Page 9

Lara’s questions are still bothering me the day after she asked them.

She wants to know who I am.

I’ve been toying with the idea of telling her the truth, but I don’t think she will take it well if she finds out I am the leader, the boss, of a complex crime syndicate running the entire city of San Francisco.

She probably won’t enjoy hearing that she is living with someone in charge of the Russian mafia in this city.

I remind myself that she isn’t even aware of her father’s bratva connections. He’s obviously hidden it from her.

Finding out from me would be a complete shock.

Totally unexpected.

I don’t think she’s ready for it.

The only dealings she had with the criminal underworld were through the debt collectors, and they were a nasty bunch. She will immediately associate me with them.

No. She isn’t ready.

Perhaps one day I can approach the subject with her. But not yet.

For now, she can just carry on believing I am a businessman with some good connections. Money does buy most things, after all.

Lara is sitting outside in the garden, enjoying the morning sunshine on her bare legs. Her long floral dress is pulled up over her thighs as she stretches her legs out on one of the sun loungers near the pool.

I’ve been watching her all morning, admiring her quiet beauty, the way she shifts and bends her leg. The way her dress slips a little higher over her thigh when she moves the book she’s holding.

She has such an elegant beauty, it’s mesmerizing.

She’s lost in thought.

Despite having a book in her hands and her eyes turned towards the pages, she hasn’t actually flipped to a new page for the last thirty minutes.

She’s just staring blankly at the black-inked words on the cream-toned paper.

I’ve been wanting to approach her for a while, but without any real reason to do so, I find myself hesitant.

“Lara?” I say her name quietly, trying not to give her a fright.

“Mm?” she lets out a soft breath, her blue eyes lifting from the book to meet my gaze.

“I made you some tea.” I lean over the sun lounger, setting the tea down on the little table next to her.

“Oh, thank you, that’s sweet,” she answers, as though she’s surprised I’d do anything kind for her.

I smile, sitting down on the lounger next to hers.

“Are you okay here? Is there anything you need?” I ask.

I’m happy that she’s agreed to stay. Whatever she’s thinking about, whatever’s worrying her, I want to try and ease her concerns, because I want her to be comfortable here.

I want her to stay.

That’s why I offered to pay for her debts in exchange for her living with me and not carrying on with this escape nonsense.

We’re already married, so it makes sense. And I don’t want her to go back to her old life.

From a personal aspect, she intrigues me in ways no one has done before.

“No, I don’t need anything.” She smiles tightly.

“If you do, you’ll tell me?”

She nods.

She’s been a bit awkward towards me since I paid her bills. I think the unanswered questions are bothering her. And she might feel like she sold herself to me, but she doesn’t realize that what seems like a staggering amount to her, the debts I cleared for her, to me, is nothing.

Nothing in comparison to her agreeing to stay here.

My eyes trace up her legs, glowing from the warmth of the sun, over her narrow waist and across the low-cut design of her dress, showing off her beautiful cleavage.

She is feminine and beautiful.

Lara bites her lower lip as my eyes reach her face, and she shifts shyly. “Did you need something?” she asks, her hand moving self-consciously over her chest, making me aware of how blatantly I’ve been staring.

“No. Nothing,” I answer quickly, standing up. “The chef is making stir-fry for dinner tonight.”

“Lovely.”

The conversation is as awkward as it can be, and I throw her one more tight smile before I hurry away.

It’s not like me to feel uncomfortable around women.

It’s also not like me to be so captivated by someone. That kiss is still haunting my thoughts. I am both desperate to feel her lips against mine again, and definitely want to avoid it because of how much it affected me last time.

I’m not used to being out of control like that. The vulnerability she brought out in me was unexpected and new to me.

I didn’t like it. And I don’t want to give anyone that kind of power over me.

***

Over the next few days, the awkwardness between us doesn’t get any better.

Seeing as Lara is now staying here voluntarily, the dynamics have shifted somewhat, and neither of us knows how to handle the other.

It’s like we’re choosing to live together, but we know nothing about each other.

There is a lot of tension every time we bump into each other, and sometimes I find it rather amusing, but other times frustrating. And the chemistry is starting to drive me crazy. No matter what she wears, she’s too beautiful to keep my eyes off of.

It’s late, or very early, depending on how you want to look at it—just past three in the morning on Thursday night.

I can’t sleep, and I’m tired of tossing and turning and getting tangled in my blankets, so I get out of bed and make my way through to the kitchen in the dark.

The house is quiet. I enjoy it when it’s like this. At this time of night, I feel alone in the world. No one is calling. No one is asking me for favors. My phone is mostly quiet, unless it’s an emergency, and even then, Roan handles a lot of it on my behalf.

As I near the kitchen, I hear noises and smile, because it can only be one person.

I step inside and find Lara with her head in the fridge, leaning forward and rummaging around looking for something.

She’s bent over and the long T-shirt she is using as pajamas is not quite long enough to cover her entire ass.

My lips curl into a smile, and I pause in the doorway, leaning on the frame.

“Looking for a midnight snack?” I chuckle.

She jumps up and squeals in fright, spinning around to face me with her hand pressed over her heart.

With a grin, I tease her, “You’re like a thief in the night, stealing my leftover pizza.”

“If you wanted the pizza that badly, you should have finished it when you had the chance,” she chirps back at me, leaning back into the fridge. “Do you always sneak around in the dark?”

“It’s hardly sneaking when it’s my house.”

“Mm,” she says, pulling the pizza box out of the fridge along with a can of flavored soda water.

“I knew it. I knew you were after the pizza.”

“If you’re polite to me, I’ll consider sharing it.” Her eyes glint with mischief as she carries the box to the microwave and sets it down.

She grabs a plate and throws two slices onto it, sliding it into the microwave.

Then she turns to stare me down with her arms folded over her breasts.

“So, what do I have to do to show you I can be polite?” I ask, walking towards her.

She shrugs, her eyes tracing up and down my body.

I’m shirtless, in a pair of sweatpants. Under the scrutiny of her eyes, I catch myself pulling my stomach muscles tighter, and then laugh inwardly, amused that I’m worried about what she thinks of me.

I’ve seen her staring at me a number of times. I know she finds me attractive.

“Or maybe ‘polite’ isn’t what you really want, Lara, and you’re just too shy to ask for what you want.” I step even closer to her, my eyes narrowing as dark thoughts fill my mind.

Lara instantly catches my drift and takes a sharp breath, biting her lip as her cheeks flush pink.

I notice a delicate silver chain around her neck that she wasn’t wearing before.

Reaching out, I lift the tiny pendant with one finger.

“A rose,” I say, admiring the detail as my fingers brush over her chest.

Her blush grows darker, spreading between her breasts.

“It was my mother’s.”

“I didn’t notice you wearing it before.”

“I wasn’t. I only put it on this morning. I’ve been carrying it with me since her death, but it didn’t feel right to wear it.”

“Why does it feel right now?” I ask, letting the tiny silver rose drop from my fingers.

She reaches up and touches it.

“The debts are cleared. It just—it gives me a chance to remember her without that weight on my shoulders,” she says, almost a whisper.

My heart tightens as I watch emotion flicker over her face.

The microwave pings loudly, and she jumps, giggling at herself as she turns to open it. “So, did you want pizza?” she asks, happy to change the subject.

“I think pizza makes the perfect midnight snack,” I answer, stepping forward to grab an extra plate at the same time as she steps away from the microwave.

“I’ll grab the chili sauce,” she says, turning straight into me.

Our bodies bump against each other, and she trips. I wrap my hand around her waist to steady her, her hands pressing against my chest. Instinctively, I pull her even closer. She looks up at me with those gorgeous blue eyes, and my heart beats faster.

“You should be more careful,” I grin.

“It wasn’t me,” she says, slightly breathless as her eyes study my face. “You’re the one who gatecrashed my pizza party.”

Her playful attitude is amusing and fun. The glimmer of mischief in her eyes teases me.

I lean down, my lips moving closer to hers.

My hand brushes down her back, over the smooth fabric of her oversized t-shirt. My mind taunts me with images of lifting her onto the kitchen counter and pushing her legs apart.

Of kissing her and pushing my tongue into her mouth.

My cock stirs at the memory of our lips against each other.

Suddenly, I remember how quickly I lost myself last time I kissed her. How she broke down my walls in an instant and left me confused.

I clear my throat, dropping my hand away from her body and taking a big step back.

“Um. So. Pizza,” I stammer.

“Oh, right,” she says, snapping out of the spell and turning away from me.

We both move around the kitchen, keeping a good distance between us.

She puts a slice of pizza on my plate for me and leans against the furthest counter from me. It’s annoying, but also a relief. If she were any closer, I’d be unable to control myself. Even as it is now, I’m struggling.

I practically swallow the pizza slice whole in an effort to get out of the kitchen as fast as possible.

She’s taking small, nervous bites and not looking at me.

I set my plate down in the empty sink.

“That was good. Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning,” I say hurriedly.

“Sleep well,” she smiles sweetly, taking another bite of pizza.

“Oh—I almost forgot. Tomorrow night, you should be ready for dinner at seven. We are going out.”

She tilts her head to the side, questions in her eyes. But she’s chewing, and I need to get out of here.

I throw her one last smile and then hurry up the stairs back to my room.

I need to be more careful around her.

Last time I kissed her, I almost lost my mind. And it’s still haunting me. I don’t know what will happen if I get into that situation again.

I don’t trust myself.