Chapter Sixteen
Ivan
Leaving that piece of shit, I call one of my men and give him Juarez’s address.
We will handle this—just not so early at night and in public. Nobody fucks with the Bratva and lives to tell the story. Nobody.
In a minute or two, it’s clear to me that this stupid loser isn’t my biggest problem tonight. It’s in the passenger seat. Silent. Staring into the void. Sighing every two or three minutes during the drive back. I wish I was a good talker like him—I really do. If I were, I would help him get over this shock. Because that’s exactly what this is to him. A shock. All I can give him are a few sentences.
“You must have done something to tick them off. They wouldn’t come after you for no reason. Get your shit together, Leonid. We must take this to Viktor.”
To me, this development isn’t so unbelievable. It’s a surprise, yes, but it’s not shocking. This danger is part of our world. I might have told Leonid that the Italians had motive to kill him, but that was just me trying to provoke some kind of response.
The truth is, they don’t always operate like that. Wise guys shoot each other all the time. They do have some rules in place, but some of those mobsters just don’t give a shit about them. So, if they’re crazy enough to go after each other, why wouldn’t they try to sabotage a rival’s car, just for the fun of it?
I drop him off at his house in the city, feeling unsettled. I know he’s going to have trouble sleeping. Still, Leonid can take care of himself. By tomorrow morning, he’ll have bounced back and be the brother I’ve known all my life. Determined. Lethal. Ruthless. Ready to destroy his enemies, no matter the cost.
Clare’s smiling image flashes through my mind. I have an idea. I need to unwind. I need to see a fresh face. Does she have a lot to do with this situation? Yes. But being with her will take my mind off Leonid. Spending just a few minutes with her will help me focus on something other than the shock in his face.
More than thirty minutes later, I’m holding the keys to the safe house in my hand, a cool breeze blowing through my hair. I acknowledge Yuri as I step onto the property. I turn the key in the lock, my anticipation growing. The sight across the living room wipes anything unpleasant off my brain.
Clare is in a purple babydoll, legs gathered to her chest. The light from the TV helps me get a proper glimpse of her lush thighs. My dick is protesting in my pants in an instant, aching to plunge back into her creamy folds. I swallow hard, deciding to keep my hands to myself for the moment. I know touching her will distract me, but this is Clare, not some whore I picked up in a bar.
“Hey!” she chirps, offering me one of her glorious smiles. “How are you? It’s been a while.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I say, my voice coming out slower than usual. “I’ve just been busy looking into you know what. What about you? I never got to ask you if you liked your new hideout.”
“It’s gorgeous,” she replies, her smile staying on. “Oh, if you want to talk to the other guys, I sent them upstairs. I wanted some privacy. I hope that’s okay.”
“Sure.” I shrug my shoulders. “Listen, why don’t you go put some clothes on? I have an idea.”
“What is it?” She giggles. “I’ve already had dinner, and it’s getting late...”
“Nothing fancy,” I assure her. “Forget your heels, too. You won’t be needing them where we’re going. In fact, sandals would do just fine.”
“Sandals...?” She frowns, leaning back in surprise. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely,” I say with a small smile on my face. “Take your time. I’ll be waiting.”
“Okay, Mr. Mysterious,” she says in a happy voice, setting her feet down on the floor.
I don’t know if she likes my little plan. Her idea of a great date may be different than mine. She might think that a nice restaurant or a posh bar are ideal for a night out. Still, even though I wouldn’t mind visiting a famous Italian restaurant or a downtown bar in normal circumstances, I can’t do either tonight. I’m just not in the mood. I have a lot on my mind. I need to relax and enjoy her company, not food or drink.
Clare
Ivan is difficult to read.
Unlike his buddy, he’s not going to give away much of what he thinks or feels. The man just loves his mysteries. He likes to keep me on my toes. Honestly? I’m enjoying that, too. I don’t want to know everything in advance. I like adventure; otherwise, I wouldn’t have considered dating either of them. It’s the unpredictability that has kept me interested in them. Of course, there are other factors at play as well.
Back up in my bedroom, I choose a pair of red shorts and a black tee. I’m not going to ruin whatever he’s got in mind despite the voice in my head when I notice a gorgeous, deep blue Dior in my closet. It’s a great chance for me to wear designer clothes. I’ve never done that, but it’s not appropriate for tonight. After all, he was clear. No dressing up.
Walking down the stairs, I revel in the lingering hunger in his gaze. The admiration in his eyes is palpable. The heat emanating from his body tempts me to ruin his plan in a different way. Why not just... bend down in front of him? Roll off these shorts and parade around the living room to flaunt my legs?
Oh my God. Stop it, idiot. Just play nice.
“Are you that happy we’re going out?”
Red heat flushes my cheeks at his question. My smile must have given me away. I regret my dirty thoughts, offering my hand to him. “Something like that.” I give him the only answer I can. He can have his secrets, and I can have mine. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?
As it turns out, our destination isn’t far from the safe house.
In less than ten minutes, his car rolls into one of the parking lots around Surfside Beach. I can smell the salt in the air. Wave after wave rolls in and splashes on the sand before the water subsides. I take in the moon’s silver reflection on the surface, watching the ripples of waves as a breeze blows tufts of my hair back. I glance right and left, wondering if there are more people around.
To my surprise, there’s nobody else here. There are two boats to the right, several hundred yards from the beach itself. There are also several piles of stones near the wave breaker separating the beach from the pier.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Ivan remarks, the two of us walking into the sand. “If you don’t like it, we can—”
“I love it,” I interrupt him. “Of course I love it. I mean, we have the beach all to ourselves. Is that why we’re here? Because you knew we’d be alone?”
He laughs, throwing a quick, sideways glance down at me. “That, too.”
“I’m waiting to hear the other reason. Or reasons.” I assume a sweet tone. “Please?”
“There’s been a development, Clare,” he informs, his smile evaporating. “I won’t lie to you—I don’t like it. I doubt anyone else in the Bratva will be thrilled to know about it, either.”
“Why? What happened?” I keep my attention on him. “You’re scaring me.”
“It was a little too...” He pauses. “Unexpected. Let’s leave it at that. I can’t
talk about it yet. Let’s just enjoy our night, okay?”
“Ivan, if this affects me in any way, I need to know,” I insist, a touch of discomfort in my tone.
“It doesn’t,” he assures, his voice softer as he turns his head to face me. “All you need to know right now is that you’ll be kept safe until we resolve this. No one’s going to lay a hand on you, Clare—unless they have a death wish.”
My sandals sink into wet sand as I stop and face him. His eyes are a shade of silver in the moonlight. I can tell he’s exhausted. His slow blinking speaks volumes. I gaze up at his curly eyelashes, the scent of the sea getting stronger in my nostrils.
“I’ll never be able to thank you enough for this,” I confess, my voice just a little more than a whisper. “I feel protected. Cared for. Important. My God...” I heave a sigh, my gaze dropping to his lips before shooting back up to his eyes. “I’ve never felt more important in my whole life.”
“You are,” he declares, intensifying his stare.
I cup the sides of his waist and lean in. A gust tosses my hair about, some strands whipping the base of his neck. He leans in, angling his lips as I savor the sound of those waves. Our lips lock, his long arms snaking around my lower back. I am trapped in his warm embrace, his words replaying in my mind.
“No one is going to lay a hand on you.”
In truth, he didn’t have to utter them. I know. I’ve known for a while how determined he and Leonid are to protect me. However, hearing him say this is just... precious. I matter to them. They would destroy just about anybody if it ensured my safety.
He twists my body and rolls me around before pushing me down on the sand. I bend my knees, my back making contact with the cool sand as his fingers travel down my dress. Reaching the hem, they ease it up. I wrap my arm around his neck and pull him down, feeling his warm hand on my outer thigh. His idea was wonderful. I’ll gladly surrender to him, right here and now. He’ll take care of me and consider my needs. That’s what he does. And God, he does it so well that it takes my breath away...