Chapter 24
ALEKSANDR
I sat in Eva’s driveway, debating whether to call her and tell her to come out or walk up to her door like a fucking gentleman, when she solved the problem for me, popping out in an emerald wrap dress that emphasized every luscious curve of her body.
She wore mascara, and her lips were a bright ruby red in the flickering light of her porch.
An odd pressure grew in my chest, expanding with each breath until my ribs ached with it.
Eva had dressed up for me.
Then, she shivered from the cold, lifting her hands to rub her arms through the fabric.
Why the fuck wasn’t she wearing a coat? I flew out of the car and up the steps, only to stop when her eyes met mine, blinking back vulnerability, a far cry from the fierce woman I’d fallen in lo—whom I missed more than I cared to admit.
Visibly, Eva gathered herself, straightening her spine, her face blank, before transforming into a vixen, all practiced seduction and calculated heat, a role I’d never seen her play. It didn’t quite suit her—like ill-fitting clothes.
My cock hardened instantly, even as my chest constricted with understanding.
She thought she needed to seduce me, that her body was the only currency she had with me.
Blyat.
“Hi,” she said with a bold smile, and fuck, if I didn’t want to lick that red lipstick off her. I blinked, realizing that even with everything we’d shared, all the times she’d dropped to her knees in my office, I’d never kissed her.
Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and guilt threaded through my veins.
When I didn’t say anything, she wilted almost imperceptibly before straightening herself again. I hated that, hated that I’d had any part in destroying her confidence.
“Look at me, baby girl,” I said, and her cheeks flushed when she did. “You’re beautiful.”
Her expression smoothed into blankness. “Don’t call me that.”
I swallowed. I deserved that. I shrugged out of my large pea coat. “Put this on.”
“Oh, no, thank you,” she said, smiling brightly—falsely. “I’m fine.”
“Eva,” I growled. “I told you to do something.”
She set her jaw, and then, to my shock, she shrugged and reached for the coat.
Instead of handing it to her, I slipped it on each arm.
It dwarfed her, and satisfaction welled in my chest at seeing her wrapped in my clothes.
And when she subtly sniffed the collar, closing her eyes and snuggling it tighter, as if my scent gave her comfort, dangerous possessiveness beat in my chest.
As I buttoned her up, she trembled. Uncertainty flickered across her face, as if she didn’t know whether to trust my gentleness. I wouldn’t either, not after what I’d said to her when her secrets came tumbling out.
Eva opened her mouth then closed it, then opened it, and it was so fucking adorable, I wanted to sweep her into my arms and keep her.
Mine.
The thought should have terrified me. Instead, it felt inevitable. It felt right.
“Let’s go have dinner,” I said finally, curious to see where this was leading, fascinated by this drop-dead sexy side of her, even if my chest ached at what it meant.
“Thank you for the coat,” she finally said, a delicate blush staining her cheeks as I examined her instead of leading her to the car.
When she reached for her car door, I made a low sound in my throat, and she snatched her hand away from the handle as if burned.
I opened it for her, holding it as she slid into the front seat of my car, her stockinged thigh peeking out from the wrap of her dress, high enough that I could see the lace of her garter.
Unable to hide my smile at her determination, I reached across to strap in her seatbelt, and she rolled her eyes. “You men, unable to believe I’m capable of taking care of myself, even though I’ve been doing it my entire life.”
I let my fingers slide over the lace of the garter on her left thigh, my entire body hard at the feel of her satin skin beneath my fingers.
“It’s not about trust,” I said finally, caging her in with one arm on the console, the other on the top of the seat behind her. “You shouldn’t have to take care of yourself when you’re with your Dom. That’s my job.”
“You’re not my Dom,” she snapped, “and you never were. You know what I had time to do while lying in the hospital, alone, abandoned by the men I’d trusted with my secrets? Research BDSM. And what you did to me was bullshit.”
“So was spying on my team,” I murmured, my hands still on either side of her waist as I inhaled her scent.
Her eyes flew to mine, shocked and hurt.
I swore quietly in Russian then shoved myself away from her. “Let’s get dinner.”
“Where are we going?” she asked when I slid into the driver’s seat.
While I was walking around the car, she’d arranged my coat and her dress to hide the expanse of skin she’d revealed earlier.
If she were really my sub, I’d punish her for it.
But now, I didn’t have any right to Eva.
I’d planned on a pizza joint, an appropriately public venue for a mentor and student to discuss a private matter.
Now, with Eva dressed up and trying so hard, the urge to spoil her upended my plans.
I was so fucking tired of resisting her pull.
Instead of answering her, I put my SUV in gear and asked, “Why weren’t you wearing a winter coat?”
Eva blushed and turned away from me, her body hunching over with shame. Instinctively, I reached for her hand on her thigh, covering it with mine. Pain lanced through me when she jerked away.
“I don’t own one nice enough to wear with this dress,” she muttered.
Oh yes, my sweet and determined baby girl had an ulterior motive. Eva was too smart to forgive me this quickly, and nothing about her body language indicated she was ready to jump back into a relationship with a man who’d taken advantage of her like I had.
I shouldn’t want it either.
Fuck.
I parked in front of a shabby apartment building, not in the best part of town, with faded brick and boarded-up windows.
Eva arrested her move to open her door when I growled at her, and then she smirked, the brat, and the terrible pressure in my chest expanded until I could barely breathe around it.
A moment later, she allowed me to hold her hand to help her step down from my vehicle then looked around with faint surprise at the run-down neighborhood.
“Trust me,” I told her as I tucked her hand in the crook of my elbow.
“Easier said than done,” I thought she muttered, but she didn’t pull away from me.
I knocked on the door, and it was opened by a tall Russian man who blew his cigarette smoke in my face as he looked me up and down. He glanced at Eva, and I shifted, taking a step up toward the door to block his view of her.
The man smiled, genuine warmth in his eyes. “Welcome back, Aleksandr. I’d wondered when we’d see you again,” he said in Russian.
“Come in,” he continued in English, standing back from the doorway so we could enter through the cloud of smoke. Eva tightened her fingers around my arm.
The lights flickered above us, emphasizing the dinginess of the faded damask wallpaper and illuminating the spiderwebs that hung between the tarnished sconces.
At the end of the hallway was a dark green door, warped and as faded as the carpet beneath our feet.
With every step, Eva drew closer, as if my presence could protect her from the atmospheric menace.
I pushed the door open, revealing a cozy restaurant.
Eva gasped with delight, and that terrible pressure in my chest returned. I loved her smiles, loved surprising her, loved eliciting joy rather than misery.
“Alek, this is amazing,” she murmured, fucking stars in her eyes as she gazed up at me.
An older Russian man with an apron covering his worn clothes nodded at me, and I walked Eva to a table in the corner, pulling her chair out for her. We sat at connecting sides of the table rather than across from one another, so I could touch her.
I pushed her chair in under her as she sat, and she looked up at me with more delighted surprise. Guilt wracked me. Eva didn’t have anyone in her life who treated her well.
While she was looking around the dining room, I pulled out my phone, debating whether pulling the boys back in was a smart idea. She hadn’t forgiven them—that was clear from the way she and the team still iced them out at practice.
But she needed them.
And more importantly, they had as much work to do to earn her forgiveness as I did.
Me
Eva doesn’t have a winter coat.
Cole
On it.
I’ll have one delivered to her house.
Me
Have it delivered here.
I sent a pin to our location, well aware Dmitri would kill me if he knew I was sharing one of the bratva’s hidden meeting places.
Me
Tell the courier to knock on the door and say it’s for Aleksandr.
Tristan
Why is she in a shit part of town?
Me
Get the fucking coat.
I didn’t like Eva’s willingness to accept my inattention when we were on a date. I slid my phone into my pocket and shifted so our knees knocked together under the table, just so I could see that cute blush spread across her freckled cheeks.
She didn’t shift away, though, just pressed her thigh into my knee.
Oh yes, Eva wanted something from me.
“Alek, what is this place?” she asked.
“Sir,” I said, my voice unexpectedly gravelly, wondering just how badly she wanted whatever it was she was going to ask me.
She pressed her lips into a thin line and stared down at the tablecloth.
“Baby girl?”
She took a big breath and stared at a fixed point on the wall in front of her. “I need your help.”
Before I could answer, an older woman with a scarf tied over her greying hair walked over to our table, her posture stiff and proud, despite her diminutive height.
“Aleksandr Novikov,” she pronounced in a thick Russian accent. “It’s been too long.”
“Babushka,” I said, rising from my seat. Eva did the same, but my adoptive grandmother quickly stopped her by leaning over and planting a kiss on her cheek.