Stepan
The way my heart twisted so impatiently in my chest as I had to walk away from Marina in that club was almost painful.
I walk across the street to my car, parked under a streetlamp, and climb in.
It's a cooler night but the chill isn't biting yet.
Still, the windows fog up as soon as I start the engine.
This evening's rain did a number on the humidity.
As I pull out into traffic, heading home to have a drink and hopefully let go of some stress, I let my mind drift back to that dance floor and the way Marina was so pliable in my hands.
We have some very real chemistry. If this weren't just a job, maybe I'd think about taking her seriously despite her being born a Belova.
It's not her fault her father's business stands at odds with one my brother just took on.
She's funny and from what I can tell, she has a good head on her shoulders.
Besides the fact that she has curves for days, and damn, can she dance.
I wasn't expecting to click with her so easily, either.
I'm still so swollen it hurts over that interchange, so forcing myself to wait will be torture, but if my gut is right, it'll be well worth the wait.
But I could see a sadness in her eyes when she spoke about her family briefly, and she changed the subject quickly too.
I can't ever remember a time I felt like talking about my family was a negative thing.
Maybe it has to do with the arranged marriage—I've heard a lot of women that happens to aren't happy with it.
Or maybe it's something else. Either way, I sensed the distaste for the topic so I know to avoid it.
It makes me wonder more about this Maksim character she's planning to marry, what he's like and what sort of power he has over her father's businesses.
The only reason men force their daughters to marry someone else these days is to align families, which is evident, but typically, it's with a family who has a lot to offer.
Outside of the fact that both families hate the Kuzin name because we've sparked an alliance with the Radins, I'm not sure what I'm dealing with.
The only way to find out is to do the research, so I call the one man I know who will get me the information I want.
"How'd it go?" Timur asks when I call, and I can hear him typing in the background. Always typing.
"Yeah, good... Didn't cross the finish line tonight, but soon..." I'm ready for a stupid joke about taking her to bed but he doesn't take the opportunity. That's more of Kazimir's gig, and he's busy with his new woman.
"When?"
"Soon. I'll set it up this week." I turn onto the bridge and the river opens up reflecting the city lights reflecting in broken lines.
"Where are we on the teams?" he asks, and I scowl, wanting to forget about my responsibilities tonight and figure out what sort of man Orlov is, see why this woman is so hot for me when she's got one on the line already. But a job is a job.
"Kazimir's got about twenty guys in his regular rotation. I can pull files on all of them, but I'll run evaluations too." I change lanes around a delivery truck parked with its hazards on. "Kazimir can help. He knows his guys."
"That works for me, and Roman's been asking. He wants his men yesterday, you know?"
"Tell him it's moving." I rub my forehead and relax in my seat, turning the defrost on to keep the window fogging at bay.
"He wants dates."
"End of next week for placements, alright? I understand the job, Tim." The frustration in my voice must be evident because he drops it.
I hear more typing as he says, "Anything else?"
"Yeah. I need more on Orlov. Not the surface stuff—I want you to dig deeper, find out more about his personal life...
" This request must sound off the wall to him.
Knowing how he runs his business is one thing.
Finding out his hobbies and interests isn't really in Timur's purview or mine, but I have this strange compulsion to know my competition.
"Why? That won't help us if they attack, Step..." I hear his typing stop, as if I've intrigued him enough to make him finally pause his work. "What's going on? Why do you want to know what color of boxers he wears?"
The comment is somewhat of an insult, but I let it roll off my back. I'm used to Kazimir bashing me. I can take a little scrutiny from Timur.
"Because if this thing falls apart and the alliance goes through anyway, we need to know what we're dealing with.
I don't want to be scrambling for intel after the fact.
" I drum my thumb on the steering wheel.
"Pull everything for me. I want to know him inside and out, his business, his life, and yeah, for lack of a better term—what color boxer shorts he wears...
Friends close, enemies closer... You know? "
After the few fuckups we've had in the past year, I'm not taking chances. If Timur can get me intel on the man, I can use it against him to lure his precious bride to be away.
"I'll pull what I can," he says, sounding annoyed, but he doesn’t question me. "Give me a few days."
"Thank you."
The light in front of me shifts and I'm forced to stop and wait for an elderly man walking a dog across the intersection.
"Why are you taking so much interest in this woman, Cousin?" He's cautious as he asks, and I don't answer right away because I’m asking myself, why am I so interested? Why do I feel the compulsion to know about this man so badly? Timur's quiet for a moment. "Stepan."
"Yeah."
"She's a job."
"I know she's a job," I grumble, pulling away from the light and down my street.
I've never had a job I failed at or let something distract me from doing what I needed to do.
So what if I let her get under my skin or like it a little too much?
If I stop her from marrying Orlov and making an alliance between her family and his, I've been successful.
But I let the anger burn off as I pull up to my house.
"Let's just focus on what's important. We have too many irons in the fire to go snooping up his tree when he's not the important one."
I pull into my driveway and kill the engine. "You're right," I say. "Forget it."
"Forgotten," he responds. "I need those teams by the end of the week, got it?"
"Got it."
I punch the End Call button and sit there staring up at the front of my house wondering why Marina Belova, of all people, is getting under my skin. If it's obvious enough to Timur that I'm taking too much interest in her, maybe it should be more obvious to me.
Am I being too dismissive? Or is this tiny spark of curiosity turning into an obsession? I was just with her, and if she'd have agreed to come home, I'd never have called Timur at all. Id' be in my bed fucking her right now. So maybe that's it.
The hormones just got to me and I need to let them fizzle out a little. I'm still half-chub as it is, waiting for the arousal to wane. If it's just hormones driving me, they'll pass as soon as I've had my fill of her body. If not, I'll deal with that bridge when I come to it.
For now, I need a drink.
And a cold shower.