Page 4 of The Pakhan’s Arranged Bride (West Coast Bratva Pakhans #2)

The first week living with Benedikt has had its challenges. Okay, mostly only one challenge.

I have to keep reminding myself that his charm is not something I should fall for.

His reputation as a playboy is well known and all of this magnetic, fun flirtation—despite it making me feel like he thinks I’m the most beautiful girl in the world—is just the way he is. He does it with all the girls.

I’m not special to him in any way. Just another woman to conquer.

Sitting across from him at dinner, his dark blue-gray eyes keep drifting over me. The suggestive undertones of his stare have my skin tingling and my heart racing a little faster than it should be.

“You look lovely this evening,” Benedikt says, picking up his knife and fork.

He always compliments me. No matter what I’m wearing, even when I’ve just woken up and I look like a mess, he still has the sweetest things to say to me.

“How was work?” I ask, trying to distract myself with a different direction of conversation.

“It’s going well. I’m looking at buying another casino.”

“Oh, that’s exciting.”

He smiles and nods briefly. “Just business, I’d rather hear about how you’re doing. How are you settling in?”

“I went into town today and walked around. It’s so much louder here than San Francisco. It takes some getting used to. I’ve been here for weekend parties, but living here has a different energy. I like it, though. I have nothing to complain about.”

He studies my face, his eyes narrowing.

“And at home? Are you keeping busy or is there anything I can get you?” he asks.

“I found the library, and the gym, I’ve been making use of those.”

“Anything you need, Ulyana, just ask.”

I smile, he can be really sweet. My heart flutters and I shove it back down. “Thanks.”

We’ve been sleeping in the same room at night. At first, I thought it would be okay—just part of playing the role as his wife—but the moment I climbed into bed next to him, I could feel the sexual tension. His scent haunts me, a strong, masculine energy that makes me want to melt in his arms.

Like pine trees after a rainstorm. Fresh and enigmatic.

I spend most of the night right on the edge of my side of the bed to try and keep as much distance as possible between us.

Last night, though, I woke up curled against him, and I was utterly horrified by how good it felt.

I’m so relieved he was asleep and didn’t notice.

***

Every dinner, as the evenings go by, I am dutifully seated at the table with him, asking him about his day. In the mornings, he leaves for work, and I do my own thing.

On this particular morning, I’ve decided it’s time to start searching around for anything that I can find on Miron.

I’ve been waiting until I learned Benedikt’s routine, because I don’t want to get caught in an awkward situation snooping around, but I’m confident that he’ll be gone for most of the day today.

I’m standing in the sunroom on the top floor. It has a view of every angle of the property, and right now I’m at the window facing the driveway.

Benedikt walks towards his car, and as though he can sense me watching him, he looks up at the wide glass walls of the sunroom. Even from this distance, his smile makes my body spark.

He waves at me, and I wave back.

It’s still shocking to me how attractive that man is. I often find myself just staring at him, daydreaming, embarrassed when he catches me.

Benedikt climbs into his car and starts the engine.

I wait, sipping my coffee as I watch.

Once Benedikt’s car has pulled out through the massive security gates around his mansion, I set my half-finished coffee down and get to work.

The two places I want to look at today are his home office, and at the back of the library—he has a store room of files there. I don’t know what they’re for.

I start with the office, thinking that any current projects would be kept close at hand and not filed away.

His office is immaculate.

Sitting at his desk, I can smell his cologne. Closing my eyes, I let myself breathe it in, leaning back in the chair and picturing him.

Dammit, Ulyana, what are you doing? You haven’t got all day.

I shake my head to force myself to focus.

Drawers. Start there.

While his home is filled with interesting pieces of art and unique statues and odd, rare ornaments, his office is organized to a T.

As I open each drawer, I notice that every item has a place. If I don’t put something back exactly the way he has it now, he’s going to know that I was in here snooping around through his things.

The bottom drawer has tech equipment. Nothing that would tell me anything about Miron, though.

The second drawer has a notebook and some pens in it.

I go through every page of the notebook, reading endless notes, written in a slanted, firm cursive. A man’s handwriting. If it’s Benedikt’s, and I assume it is, he has a beautiful style.

But there is nothing in here about Miron, just day-to-day operations and notes about shipments.

Again, not useful.

I’m getting frustrated.

The top drawer has a wad of cash, a voice recorder and walkie-talkies along with a spare clip for his Glock. In excitement, I press play on the recorder, but a light flashes ‘0’ on the little screen to say it’s empty.

He must have cleared it after taking notes somewhere. Maybe in the notebook that was also useless.

My eyes trace over his laptop. Chances are slim that it doesn’t have security on it. But hey, might as well try.

I open it, and as expected, it asks me for a password.

If it’s like my brother’s laptop, it will basically self-destruct and fry the hard drive if I put the wrong password in too many times, so there is no point in sitting here guessing.

Shit. I’m not getting anywhere.

Stretching under the desk, I run my hand over the bottom panel, and my fingers brush over another notebook.

Yes . What’s this? Finally, something a bit more enticing.

Before I pull it out, I move the chair back to examine exactly how it’s clipped under there so that I can put it back in the same way.

Then I sit cross legged on the floor, carefully remove it from the straps, and flip it open.

It’s not about Miron.

It’s coded, so technically it could be about anything, but I recognize this because my brother has a similar record. It’s the movement of money. Laundered money. I flip through the entire book and it’s all the same. A very detailed account of every transaction done over the past few months.

Dammit.

What I need must be on his laptop.

I wonder if he has the password written down somewhere. Maybe I need to go through the first notebook again and look more carefully for a single random word.

“Ulyana?”

His voice makes me jump and hit my head on the edge of his desk. Fuck! Oh no. This is so bad. How do I explain the fact that I’m sitting on the floor of his office looking at his personal notebook?

“Hi, I—thought you were out,” I stammer, my cheeks heating.

His eyes are dark as they lock on me. My throat goes tight and I swallow hard. Anxiety bubbles in my stomach.

His voice is low and dangerous when he speaks. “Yes, clearly you thought I was out. What are you doing in here?”

He steps around the desk and his eyes drift to the notebook in my hand. He doesn’t move to take it from me, but the tension in his jaw tells me he isn’t pleased.

I laugh nervously, lifting the notebook slightly. “Um, Nestor has one just like it.” I duck under the desk and put it back where I found it. Blood is draining from my head as adrenaline rushes through me.

When I’m done, I stand up and face him, trying to remain calm as though I wasn’t up to anything at all. As though this is all innocent.

“What were you looking for, Ulyana?” he asks.

I don’t want him to know I came here to investigate my step-brother. Even my brother doesn’t know I have my own plot against Miron and why that might be. It’s my secret to carry.

If it comes out that I’m interested it might causes issues between Benedikt and myself.

“Mm. Nothing. No, I was just curious about your office setup. I know how Nestor does things, but I wanted to know if yours was similar.”

I’m confident my explanation will work. Especially because I made sure to mention my brother’s name. Letting Benedikt know that I know the ropes, that Nestor shared things with me—that I can be trusted.

It’s plausible I’d want to know if he does things the same way. Just simple curiosity. Nothing more.

I’ve been tricking my brother ever since I was little. He was always so bossy. He made so many rules. I know he took on the role of keeping me out of trouble, but even when he caught me, I always managed to talk my way out of it. So, I know how to handle men. Benedikt will be no different.

I smile at him, giving him my most confident yet innocent look.

But his eyes haven’t changed. They are still dangerously set on me as he steps closer.

I try to back away, but my ass hits the desk, and now he’s pressed against me.

Pine. Fresh rain. That masculine scent that keeps teasing me.

His muscular body locks me in place, and his solid form pours heat into me. I can feel his breath against my lips when he huffs in annoyance. His eyes flare as he glares down at me.

I stare up at him, bewildered. I don’t know what to say or what he wants. I’ve never felt so small and vulnerable before. No matter how many times Nestor reprimanded me, it was never like this.

“What were you looking for, Ulyana?” he says my name like I’m in trouble.

My heart races wildly, my legs going weak.

A strand of his dark chocolate hair falls in front of his eyes, and I am tempted to brush it away for him.

But it would be too intimate. I don’t want to be intimate.

As it is, he’s too close to me, and it’s doing things to me.

A nervous giggle spills from my lips, and I press my hand against his chest, wanting to push him away, but instead distracted for a moment by how solid he is.

If he tried to kiss me now, would I stop him?

Why are you even thinking about that?

His dominance and that stern look on his face are making it hard to focus on anything else except for how he’s making my body scream with need. Heat is pooling between my legs, as I picture him bending me over this desk and punishing me for catching me in here.

Think, Ulyana, before you do something stupid. Think.

He asked what I’m looking for, but I can’t answer that.

I bite my lower lip.

“You’re home earlier than usual. Did you miss me?” I ask with a grin, trying desperately to distract him from his question.

“I thought I would come home for lunch.” His smooth voice rumbles over me.

“Oh my word—is it lunchtime already?” I’m genuinely shocked. Was I really in here for that long? I was studying those notebooks for a while, trying to be thorough.

For a moment, Benedikt doesn’t move, and my body tenses even more. Finally, he steps away.

“Come and join me,” he says, more a command than an invitation, and I don’t dare decline after being caught in this awkward situation.

“I’d love to, I’m really hungry,” I say cheerfully.

He gestures for me to leave the office, and I duck past him, hurrying towards the door while he follows me downstairs.

As we pass the kitchen, Benedikt sticks his head in and tells the chef we are ready for lunch.

Apparently, he called ahead and ordered something, because the chef shouts back that it’ll be served in a minute or two.

I’m incredibly awkward sitting with him at the table, unable to make eye contact, scuffing my feet against the floor and wondering what he must be thinking about me. Is he still angry? What will he do?

“Do you like Moroccan food?” he asks, taking me by surprise. When I look up at him, it’s clear that he is as uncomfortable as I am about what happened in the office.

“I think so. I can’t say we eat it often, though,” I say cautiously.

“Some people really don’t like coriander, and it’s in most Moroccan dishes. I love it. I’ve been craving some chicken with Tajine, and the chef happens to be really good at this dish.”

“I’m looking forward to trying it.”

I wiggle in my seat, trying to relax a bit.

“Have you ever been to Morocco? Or did someone use to make this for you?”

“I’ve been to Morocco. It’s a beautiful place. I love the color, the energy—and the food, of course.” He smiles, and finally, that angry look dissipates from his eyes.

“I’ve never been. I’d love to go.”

“One day I’ll take you.” His eyes meet mine, and my heart spins. How is it so easy for him to set me on a daydream with one glance?

The chef walks in, breaking the moment, and I pause to gather my thoughts again.

We start lunch, and I’m blown away by how incredible the dish is.

“If I had had this before, it was nothing like this. This is amazing,” I say, impressed.

“I can make it, too. I didn’t have time today, or I would have. I rather enjoy cooking.”

I giggle and he looks at me through narrowed eyes. “Is that funny to you, Ulyana?” he asks, amused.

“I can’t really picture you cooking anything.” I shrug.

“What, then? You have a single-minded notion of who I am? I do business, I got home, that’s it?”

“Perhaps a few parties in between?” I reply, a cheeky hint to my words.

“Mm,” he says, clearly knowing I’m referring to his playboy reputation. “There are a lot more layers to me than that, Ulyana. For example, I happen to love collecting rare and vintage books.”

“Really?”

“Hmm. You haven’t found the room behind the library in your…explorations?”

I bite the inside of my cheek and drop my eyes, pretending to be cutting my food. “I noticed a door,” I say innocently.

“There is a room behind that door, a glass room with environmentally controlled atmosphere designed to preserves the pages of old books. If you ever want to look at them you, can let me know, I’ll take you in there and show you the correct way to handle them.

I noticed you spend a lot of time in the library, so I assume you have a fondness for books. ”

“I do. I love reading. And I can spend hours in a secondhand book shop, but I’ve never had an opportunity to look at proper vintage books.”

I watch Benedikt as he talks about his collection, excited to tell me how he came across the extremely rare ones. His eyes light up and I start to see that he’s right. It was presumptuous of me to see him as this shallow person. His reputation is not the be-all, end-all of who he is.

I realize that there is so much about Benedikt that I don’t know, and suddenly I’m curious to know more.

I catch myself staring again, lost in thoughts of him, and I quickly sit up, pulling myself together.

Next thing I know, I’ll find myself in another awkwardly intimate moment with him.

No.

I have to keep things professional. I can’t let things go in any other direction.