Chapter Three
“This is bullshit.” Nika fumed. She stared out the window, trying not to be so interested in the scenery as they traveled down a highway bordering the Florida Intracoastal Waterway. “I cannot believe you Petrov cowards are leaving my father there by himself.”
That wasn’t entirely true, but Maksim really didn’t want to go into the details with her. Denis was actually acting under orders to try and find out more information about the policemen who had been badgering him. Ivan and Maksim needed to know how many men had infiltrated the police department, and Denis was their best shot at getting that sort of intel. Again, Nika probably wouldn’t have appreciated that information.
“What if my father gets killed because of this?” Nika moaned. “It will be all stupid Katrina’s fault, that’s what!”
“Okay, settle down,” Maksim told her gruffly. “You’re going to give me a headache and I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”
“A headache?” Her head whipped around and her blue eyes pierced him with their derision. “My father might die and you’re bitching about a headache?” She paused to take a breath and he mistakenly thought he was going to enjoy a few minutes of peace. Then she picked up again. “And explain to me why we couldn’t stay at the beach house. That place is kick ass and they don’t even use it.”
Maksim didn’t particularly want to tell her that the beach house was nice, but it only had one bedroom and he was not staying in the shack while she took the house. Instead he gave a grunt that could have meant anything.
“Do you ever speak actual words?” she snapped.
“Do you ever stop?”
She made a sound of pure feminine outrage and Maksim realized he’d probably just earned himself another ear blistering. One thing he did have to admit was that Nika Sokolov was damn adorable when she was mad. Her cheeks flushed bright red and her eyes got very bright. Her curly blonde hair was in all kinds of disarray and she looked so damn kissable he could hardly keep his hands to himself.
“What kind of spoiled brat is your brother anyway?” Nika muttered. “Why does anyone need six houses? Six cars? Hell yeah. If I was a mafia kingpin I would have, like, fifty cars.”
“I believe we do have somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty cars if we count all of the vehicles we use for business.” Maksim offered this tidbit to distract her.
Her derisive snort would have done any sarcastic bitch proud. “I bet he’s such a pansy that he doesn’t even have any good ones.”
Maksim couldn’t help but laugh. “You think my brother is a pansy, hmm?”
“Look at him sometime and you’ll see why,” she retorted.
Maksim responded immediately. “Get to know him and you’ll think different.”
That seemed to slow her down enough to think. Fortunately it also gave him a few moments of peace and quiet. It was dark and he was driving to a place he’d only been to a handful of times. When he finally spotted the turnoff, he spun the wheel of the SUV quickly to make the sharp right. Their wheels skidded just a little and then caught. When they finally pulled up in front of a one story doublewide manufactured home with a nice square deck on the front and another in the back, Maksim knew he was about to have a tantrum on his hands.
He hadn’t remembered exactly what this place looked like, only that Maksim had picked it up for a song and then stuffed a bunch of money into it as a giant monetary placeholder. At least he knew that the inside was nice. Just a little shabby compared to the rest of the Petrov safe houses.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Nika said in obvious disbelief. “My sister gets whisked off in a helicopter to a private island in the Florida Keys and I’m staying in a shack on wheels?”
“No wheels.” It was all Maksim could come up with. “And it’s a really nice place on a nice piece of property. It might surprise you.”
“I’m not going in there.” Nika crossed her arms and set her jaw. “I want a penthouse with a view of the ocean. I want butlers and maids and cooks and a chauffeur. Katrina got to live in the lap of luxury while she was on the run with Ivan. Why do I get stuck with this?” She finally turned and gave him an evil look. “Is it because I’m here with you?”
“Look,” Maksim said firmly. “I don’t particularly want to be here with you any more than you do with me. So how about we bury the hatchet somewhere other than each other’s backs and just get out of the damn car. I’m tired and I’d like to get something to eat.”
“I think I saw a greasy burger joint a mile or so back.” Nika nodded off down the road. Let’s head that way and get food.”
“There’s food in the house.” He tried to be patient, but he was so done with her attitude.
Maksim got out of the SUV and slammed the door closed. Stomping around to Nika’s side of the vehicle, he yanked her door open. She jumped a little. Obviously she hadn’t expected him to actually make her get out.
“Now,” Maksim told her.
“Fuck. Off.”
Feeling as though he were actually about to blow his stack, Maksim reached in and swept Miss Priss into his arms. She weighed next to nothing and every ounce of his irritation was wiped away at the first brush of her soft skin against his. She felt like heaven and smelled even more divine.
***
When Nika got her wits back she was going to murder Maksim with her bare hands. The asshole had plucked her right out of the SUV and then he had carried her into the house! He had no right to touch her. No right at all.
Just like I have no right to enjoy it.
Every step Maksim took jostled Nika closer to his chest. He was warm and solid against her. And how was it possible for a man to smell this good? His scent lingered around her. She could have sworn it had permeated her skin. Something earthy and utterly male, like the outdoors with a hint of sandalwood spice. Whatever the official combination, it woke her up inside and gave her naughty thoughts.
“Put. Me. Down,” she ordered.
He grunted as he shifted her weight to one arm in order to open the front door. “Oh I will. Believe me.”
For some reason, that felt like a rejection. Nika’s eyes stung and she actually felt as though she might cry. It was so stupid. She shouldn’t care what this man thought of her or whether or not he found her attractive. She didn’t need his validation. She was a strong, independent person and she could get along fine whether or not Maksim Petrov thought she was attractive or not.
They entered a living room filled with plain but comfortable furnishings. It looked like any other house. There was quite literally nothing special about it. No white leather couches, no art, no housekeeper or butler to greet them. It was just a room lit by one dim bulb in a lamp on the side table.
“Wow.” Nika glanced around, completely unimpressed. “Way to underwhelm me.”
“This is about safety, not luxury.” Maksim set her gently on her feet.
Nika immediately stepped away from him. “I call the master bedroom.” She was thinking that it was the most likely to have an en suite bathroom and she really wanted a nice, long soak in the tub.
“The hell you do,” he growled. “It’s the only room with a bed big enough for me to sleep comfortably. You can pick something on the other side of the house.” He gestured vaguely to his right.
“Guess that thing about guests getting to pick doesn’t hold water with you, hmm?” She shot him a dirty look.
“You’re not a guest.” One massive shoulder lifted in a shrug. “At this point you’re a dependent.”
She opened her mouth to give him a real piece of her mind, but he walked away. The man actually walked away! Maksim disappeared into what was most likely the master bedroom and left her standing there, vibrating with the force of her anger.
Feeling even closer to tears because she was now filled with impotent rage, Nika turned on her heel and stalked off to choose a place to sleep. It became quickly apparent that whoever had owned this place before Ivan’s purchase had simply left their things and walked away. Her mind immediately began spinning stories of Ivan murdering the occupants, or taking their home as payment on a huge gambling debt. The mafia did that sort of thing, right?
One of the bedrooms appeared to have belonged to a teenaged girl. There were ruffled curtains and white wicker furniture. Nika gazed at the cozy space and hated it on sight. Once upon a time she had wanted to be this girl. She’d wanted the room all to herself and evenings spent giggling on the phone with her friends. She’d wanted to curl up in a chair with her stereo playing in the background while she painted her toenails. Then at night she had longed to curl up beneath a soft duvet and drift off to sleep without worrying that some Russian mob enforcer was going to show up in her father’s shop and demand money they couldn’t repay.
Nika turned her back on the room, thinking about Maksim alone in another part of the house. He had been the one to show up in her father’s shop. Maksim had thrown things and made a mess while demanding money they couldn’t produce. It wasn’t that the shop didn’t turn a profit. It was that her idiot father had used every bit of the money to send his precious Katrina to school.
Nika had always wondered why she was such a disappointment to him. She wasn’t academically inclined, nor did she particularly want to be a florist. But that didn’t mean she had no value. Still, he had never asked her what she wanted or whether or not she had plans and dreams outside the shop. Papa had made assumptions about her just like everyone else always did.
Stalking down the hallway to the third bedroom, Nika decided that it didn’t matter what was inside. She was going to wind up sleeping there. Holding her breath for the worst, she pushed open the door and was pleasantly surprised by a sedate looking room in shades of cream and navy with a comfortable double bed. The furniture was simple, dark wood. There was a bed, a chest, and a nightstand. Nobody had left anything on the walls, and there was no clutter. It was sterile.
Just like me.
Nika sat quietly on the bed for a few moments before deciding that she was hungry. Since Maksim hadn’t thought much of her suggestion to go back to the burger joint and grab food, she figured he must’ve had another plan in mind. Getting to her feet, Nika headed out to the kitchen to get the lay of the land.
To her surprise, Maksim had beaten her to the kitchen. He had deli meat, a variety of cheeses, lettuce, sliced tomatoes, and condiments strung across the counter. The sandwich he was assembling actually looked intimidating.
“Where did that come from?” she asked, confused by the seemingly magical appearance of fresh food.
He didn’t even bother to look up and make eye contact. “We hire caretakers for every property we own. They keep things stocked according to a list. That way if we need to hole up for a while we have supplies.”
“And if nobody had showed up to eat this stuff?” She poked at the package of salami, her mouth-watering.
Maksim shrugged and prepared to take a bite of his culinary creation. “The caretaker would have thrown it out when he brought the new stuff.”
Nika couldn’t even comment. The notion was quite simple and made a ton of sense. It also boggled the mind. The Petrovs literally threw away thousands of dollars of food and supplies every month just in case they needed it.
I wonder if Ivan has a money tree somewhere.