Apparently, seduction wasn’t her strong point. Sasha brought Kallie to the living room to join the men working on his security system. She was embarrassed. There was an unmistakable feeling that the men were offended that she had reacted so dramatically. They never so much as looked up from their work, even when she apologized to them for her behavior. Put out and unsure how to remedy the situation, she went with humor. “I don’t think you’re aware what your boss did here,” she said, poking Sasha in the chest.

He wore a mischievous grin.

“Okay, I confess,” he said, with a certain note of pride in his voice, she noted. “I told her you two were bad guys and to run for her life.”

His disclosure broke the tension. The IT guys shook their heads and shadow-boxed Sasha.

“Well, that wasn’t very nice of him,” Alex said. “But that makes perfect sense. Textbook Sasha.”

“Yes, it is,” she continued with a quick smile. “And I think he should buy us all lunch for causing the commotion.”

“Hey,” said Sasha, but he winked so she knew it was all right. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll come back to pick you up in an hour. These guys get paid enough and don’t need a free lunch. Especially one with a pretty girl.”

“We can clean up,” Alex teased.

“Great. Do that after you finish your job,” Sasha countered with a grin.

Kallie took in the view. All three guys were so handsome, and their playful exchange was as warm as it was fun. Sasha brought out the best in a lot of people. “Just you and me, huh?” she asked, lifting a hand to brush his hair off his face. “Do I get to ride in your cool car?”

“Moye prinadlezhit tebe.”

Oh, those Russian phrases...one day she would melt and all that would be left of her was a silly grin, all as a result of him reading her his shopping list. He claimed his Russian wasn’t perfect, or even fluent. It had been Americanized over the years, and was probably a watered-down version of the original thing. But who cared? It didn’t matter that she had no idea what he said; it just made her nearly faint when he did it.

The IT workers growled their approval. Alex wolf-whistled. Thankfully, Dmitry translated.

“He said what is his is yours,” he explained with a smile. “He also said to wear a pretty dress to lunch.”

Sasha gave Dmitry a light shove. “I didn’t say that,” he admonished with a fake scowl. “But wear a pretty dress to lunch,” he said over his shoulder to Kallie, and she felt that warm feeling in the pit of her stomach again.

Dmitry laughed. Alex rolled his eyes. It was so obvious they looked up to him.

“Okay, I added that last part myself,” Dmitry admitted with an expressive shrug. “But the first part he did say.”

“You like the cool car, huh?” Sasha asked, nudging her a little with his shoulder.

“Sasha, everyone likes the cool car,” Alex said, as if that fact were obvious.

Sasha quelled him with a glance. “I was asking my woman, not you.”

His woman. It was an old-fashioned phrase, no longer politically correct. But Kallie loved hearing it from his lips, especially in front of the other guys. There was something kind of nice in having a guy want to possess you, though she’d never admit that out loud. Phrases like that weren’t supposed to make a girl melt.

Did men like Alex and Dmitry understand such things? Alex had a heavy accent. He probably wasn’t American-born. He would be more accepting of Old-World mannerisms, she guessed. At least he didn’t look put out by the phrase. Actually, neither of the men did, which made them that much more interesting.

Sasha was looking at her. His eyes were soulful, filled with need. Their magnetism was so incredibly powerful. She felt it draw at her core. How could it be that no one else in the room even seemed aware of the fire that burned between them? She watched the two men resume their work, discussing routers and splitters, and other things that made no sense to her. She was so preoccupied with keeping her own reactions under control that it was all she could to not moan in front of the workers when Sasha’s eyes met hers in that way.

But even without his smoldering gaze Kallie had been touched by Sasha’s words, spoken so romantically in Russian. Everything that was his was hers. What did that even mean? Was he trying to be charming? Or had he truly meant it? And to what extent? This was a breathtaking thought. No one had ever spoken like that to her before. Was he truly just that generous?

She wanted to touch him, but couldn’t move. In fact, she could barely breathe so caught up was she in her emotions. Sasha wasn’t like any other man she’d ever met.

And what about me? Am I like any of his other women? Did he make them such generous offers, too? Or am I... special?

As though reading her thoughts, he leaned forward and kissed her. It was a chaste brush of his lips against hers, and she bit back a cry of disappointment. He was too careful in front of the guys. Too old-fashioned sometimes.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” he said softly, and left. He slipped out the front door as easily and suddenly as he’d appeared. It didn’t occur to her to ask where he was going. She had accepted from the beginning of their courtship that if he wanted her to know that sort of thing, he would tell her. She wasn’t to ask, a fact she still struggled with. Especially when he offered so little information.

With a murmured thanks to the men who continued to work, so immersed now that she doubted they heard her, Kallie retreated to her room.

She loved her room. For a house in this neighborhood, the interior had surprised her immensely. The suite had its own full bath, which she absolutely adored. Everything was so beautifully, richly decorated that it made taking a bath a guilty pleasure. It was kind of weird, though, to bathe while the guys were there, and Sasha wasn’t. But after meeting them, and Sasha’s assurances, she felt sure she would be fine. She locked her bedroom door and the bathroom door for good measure, feeling comfortable with that.

Kallie’s stomach rumbled as she bathed and dressed. Running always made her famished. She felt a little impatient to be on the way to wherever Sasha intended to take her. This was one of wonderful perks of being his girl. His whole world was new to her, and he took her to places different from anywhere she’d ever been.

He treats me so well. I don’t know why the rest matters so much when he’s so good to me.

The restaurants he took her to were classy places. They were the kinds of restaurants you’d see in old movies, the kind where she imagined a fifties movie star might have dined at. The waiters were classy, the kind to wear suits and smiles, who spoke softly and recommended and served as though you were the most important person in the world. These kinds of restaurants were a fun change from the affected bistros she frequented with her ex-fiancé, Jeremy Corcoran, and all the unsatisfying trendy meals she’d pretended to like.

Jeremy was the exact opposite of Sasha in all ways. Jeremy was a string bean, Sasha was buff; Jeremy was beta male, Sasha was pure alpha. Jeremy was handsome in the way a model in a magazine was handsome. Like those models, he’d take a good picture. The kind of picture you’d use to sell cologne or menswear.

Sasha...well, he’d take a good picture as well, but more of the kind you’d see in a gallery of high-end photography. His picture would be the kind of portrait that would take your breath away and leave you somewhat disquieted, as though somehow, in capturing the image, the photographer had also captured some of the wildness.

How could she even begin to compare him to such men? It was really no contest.

As she stripped out of her running clothes, it occurred to Kallie that in the couple of months they’d been together they hadn’t taken a picture together. Yes, maybe a little odd, but it wasn’t as though she had tried to, and he’d denied her. They were just so engaged with each other that it just hadn’t happened.

With Jeremy, Kallie felt she had to be hot...and to look hot at all times. She’d taken naughty pictures of herself to send to him, fishing for compliments. With Sasha, she felt like she didn’t have to prove anything anymore. How could you not feel beautiful when a man like him treated her as though she were... amazing. He straight up told her so.

And how could you not respond to something like that? Sasha stirred an ancient, deep passion that had been buried deep inside of her. This was a heat and sexiness she couldn’t deny, and certainly never had to put on. Never before had she felt so womanly, so female as she did when she was with Sasha.

Kallie stepped into the shower and ducked her head under the cascading water. As she washed her hair she thought about these things, still deep in thought later as she brushed it out. She was thankful that, despite its length it dried quickly, its damp wisps eventually spilling down most of her body in a slick, straight fall.

Most people liked her hair. It’s naturally pale-blond color didn’t come from a bottle, and its length drew attention. She got random compliments on it just standing in line at the grocery store. Funny how she’d hated it when she was younger, and kept it cropped short. She was thankful that she’d come to love the color of it, the way it fell so straight as she grew it out. No, she’d likely never cut it again, except to trim the ends. Maybe to keep it from getting too long, though at this point she wasn’t sure that was possible.

Besides, Sasha loves it.

And for that reason alone, she made sure it always looked fresh and smelled amazing for him.

When she rose from her dressing table, she had a new problem to think about. Dressing presented an interesting challenge. With the spring weather warming up, it was still too early in the season to wear the white Lycra dress that clung to her body like a second skin, though she desperately wanted to. Finally, Kallie opted for a denim number that showcased her curves, even though she’d worn it for Sasha before.

After she felt presentable and ready, she ambled to the kitchen to nibble on something to quiet her growling belly. With an eye on the clock, she spilled some tortilla chips onto a plate. She took an avocado from the refrigerator and mashed it up, creating a quick guacamole to go with it. On impulse, she went out to the living room to offer the guys some.

She stopped short when she saw something strange out of the corner of her eye. It wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world, yet she zeroed in on it. One of the bags they brought in was slightly unzipped, and she clearly saw bundles of cash. Lots of bundles of cash.

Kallie’s imagination went crazy. It was the kind of thing she only saw in the movies. Cash like that was never a good sign. It made this whole ‘security’ thing seem like something underhanded was going on, even though there was probably a reasonable explanation.

Right? Tell me there’s a reasonable explanation...

There wasn’t a way to estimate how much there was, but the fact that the money was tied off in neat bundles made it seem like a lot. She probably had a funny look on her face, and the more she tried to act natural the less she was able to.

Dmitry caught her staring. His eyes were dark, though his tone remained pleasant. “Do you want something?” His tone. She didn’t like his tone. Nor where his eyes went when he added, “Don’t you look beautiful.”

His compliment stirred her some, fool that she was. She brushed that aside, noting that he looked as tense as she felt—like he knew what she saw, and he was daring her to say something. Kallie hesitated, but she backed down. She felt more nervous than curious.

But if you can’t even ask about the bag of money, what does it tell you about these men? You don’t trust them. Why are you still standing here when you don’t trust them?

Hoping the conflict didn’t show on her face, she stepped backwards. “No,” she answered with the sudden realization that this was Sasha’s house, not hers, and she would do well to remember it. If she was going to be surrounded by him, and whatever he did, she couldn’t help but become a part of things. Things she might not want to be part of.

“Of course, you do.” He laughed, but the laughter seemed strained. “You’re gorgeous. Sasha is a lucky man.”

“I mean no, I don’t want anything,” she retorted, not liking the way he leered. Neither did she like the way he nudged Alex who, thank goodness, never once looked up from his blinking lights.

“I mean, I was just seeing if you guys wanted chips and guac,” she said, with a smile she hoped wasn’t as strained as it felt.

Dmitry laughed politely while Alex silently worked.

“That’s very sweet. But we don’t want to get food on our work.” He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers like spider legs. “Sticky fingers, you know?”

He was taunting her. Playing games. Where was Sasha? Shouldn’t he be back by now?

She fled to the kitchen, though she no longer had an appetite. She shoved the plate of chips and dip into the refrigerator with shaking hands, wondering if Dmitry would follow her. He had to know how rattled she was. What would she do then?

A knock sounded on the front door, making her jump. It’s just Sasha. He’s here. Everything will be okay.

She heard the door open. Of course, he wasn’t asking for admittance, Sasha wasn’t like that. He just liked to announce his arrival. He owned the place, after all. She heard his boisterous greeting all the way in the kitchen, and almost wished that he’d come in silently, without giving warning.

So that he could see...what, exactly? That one of his workers was looking at her? She’d dressed to be looked at, hadn’t she?

Or worse... to see the cash that he knew all along was there?

Kallie stayed in the kitchen, trying to shake the tension from seeing all that cash in the living room. She tried eavesdropping, but it was a fail because the men chatted in Russian. Dmitry said her name. He was tattling on her, half in whispers as though she could understand a word he was saying.

She pretended to be tidying as Sasha approached, grabbing a cloth to wipe down counters that were already clean.

The fact that he knew exactly where to find her—in the kitchen, not in the bedroom still getting ready—confirmed that she had been discussed.

“Beautiful,” he said from the doorway, as though nothing had happened at all.

She smiled, but couldn’t look him in the eye. He kissed her forehead, one hand cupping the back of her head, tangling in her hair that she’d left down just for him. He didn’t say anything about what she had seen, and she didn’t know how to bring it up.

Let it be. Just...let it be. It’s his house. His money. Do you really want to know?

“C’mon,” he murmured against her hair. “I’m taking you to a new place for lunch.”

“Every place you take me is a new place,” she replied. Why did she have to melt into his embrace like this? Why did everything bad in the world fade away at his mere touch?

“Yeah,” he said with a touch of mischief. “But there’s still always a chance you’ve been there before, at least once.”

“And you’re sure I haven’t been to this place?” she asked curiously.

“Yep.” He nodded vehemently. “I’m positive. I’m torn between telling you and keeping it a surprise.”

“Keep it a surprise,” she said, liking the distraction. Or, more honestly, needing the distraction. Suddenly it was killing her not to know.

“I’ll see,” he replied, seeming to think about it for all of five seconds before shaking his head. “Come, let’s go.”

“Are we going in the muscle car?” she asked, feeling a little like she’d wasted her earlier trip in the car, all thirty feet that they’d driven.

He grinned. “Yes, we have the muscle car.”

She loved his deep voice and the way his laugh rumbled in his chest. He wrapped his enormous arms around her and drew her close as they strolled out of the house. The weather looked clear and perfect, and it made the sometimes-daunting neighborhood look like a postcard.

“So what kind of car is it? I thought it was a Mustang earlier, but I see now I was wrong.” She craned her neck to study the name of the car. She’d worn glasses when she’d been in business, but she gotten by without them since then. And vanity prevented her from wearing them in front of Sasha. She squinted until she made out the words. “Gran Torino,” she read. “Nice.”

“Very nice,” he whispered in her ear as he held the door.

She could easily step back and relax into the comfort of his body. He was such a big, solid guy, body and soul. He was so present with her, like she was the only thing that mattered to him. She loved the attentiveness. It made all the other questions seem unimportant. “I don’t know anything about cars.”

“I would love to teach you,” he replied, and the suggestion sent tingles through her body. “I’m a wonderful...teacher.”

Her breath caught as her throat went instantly dry. He was an amazing teacher. She hadn’t thought she was a novice until she met him. Just the notion of him in bed made her want to faint. He had to nudge her to wake her from her daydream, his smile letting her know that he’d guessed her thoughts. The rat. He didn’t need to look so smug.

She slid into the passenger seat and waited for him to get into the car.

As he sat down his hand went straight to her thigh, more protectively, more possessive than anything else he’d done that day. His touch made her insides melt. “You okay there?” He winked at her.

The feelings he stirred in her just by simple contact were so powerful, so intense, so delicious that they made the two bags of cash that she saw in her entryway seem completely unimportant.

His hand had to move to the stick shift as he eased the car from the curb and into traffic. Her leg felt cold, bereft of his touch, and she stared at the gear shift jealously. When they stopped at an intersection Sasha leaned over and, just like that, kissed her.

This was a real kiss, not like that little peck back at the house in front of his friends. It felt like forever since he’d done this, but it had only been less than twenty-four hours. He was in no hurry as the masterfully restored vintage car idled. He took his very sweet time, his tongue gliding into her mouth.

The man tasted of coffee and something sweet. Had he grabbed a snack as well before leaving? It was an interesting puzzle as Kallie pressed into his mouth hungrily, probing him back. Forgetting that they were sitting in traffic, she hooked her arm around his neck like she wanted to keep him there forever, tangling her fingers in his lusciously thick hair, steadying herself as she kissed him.

A horn from behind them woke them from their growing passion. Sasha waved to the driver and drove on. “We’re making a spectacle,” he announced, a certain amount of satisfaction in his voice.

“Why, does he know you?” she asked, twisting to look at the SUV behind them.

“Yes.”

“So, will it be neighborhood news that you were kissing someone in the intersection?” She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that.

When he raised his eyebrow like that, it gave him the most devilish look. “That’s kind of a loaded question,” he said.

Oh, he’s up to something...

“I mean, no one could blame me for kissing you in the intersection. I mean, look at you. And maybe it will be...discussed.”

She blushed and looked away, fingertips coming to rest on her swollen lips, knowing her hair was tangled about her face after such a wanton display. She didn’t know what to say, and was somewhat pleased. She shifted in the seat, crossing her legs to press her thighs together, enjoying the delicious feeling of being aroused, of feeling like this amazing sensual being when she was with him, something she’d never known she could be before Sasha.

Then, knowing full well what he did to her, he changed the subject just like that. “So, you want to know where we’re going?” he asked with a spark in his eyes as he glanced over toward her.

“Your place,” she guessed, near to fainting from the very idea of it. Oh, please...

His house in Federal Hill, an understated but very high-end neighborhood, wouldn’t be a bad place to go, but the likelihood of actually eating anything would be practically nil. This was his primary residence, much statelier than the townhouse. She’d been looking forward to exploring such grandeur.

“That’s a pretty good guess, but no.”

Damn, he was smug.

“Do you have yet another house, Mr. Petrov?” she asked, enjoying how easy it was to flirt with him.

“I do,” he said with a sly smile. “And I don’t live in that one either.”

“Oh?” she asked with just a pang of jealousy. Sasha made her feel so incredibly special...was it all a sham? Were there other women in his life? “Is there something you mean to tell me?” she teased, hoping he didn’t hear the desperation in her voice.

She was so not prepared for his answer.

His eyebrows raised up with surprise. “Yes, as a matter of fact, there is, actually. I think you’d like her.” He chuckled.

“Who?” she demanded, fingers knotting over the strap on the purse she held in her lap.

“Someone near and dear to my heart lives there,” he said with a wink.

Easy, girl...he’s spends way too much time with you to have another woman in his life. Don’t be ridiculous.

Funny how she could handle the questionable criminal background, but not another woman.

Sasha shot her a look. He knew everything she was thinking, didn’t he? Why in the world didn’t he say something?

It was stupid to feel this way, really. But was it so impossible? Sasha was such a virile, charismatic man. Anyone who was this much of a die-hard romantic somehow translated into the supposed reality of him being a player now and again. Because, of course, good-looking men fooled around.

And why not? It wasn’t like she was the first woman he’d ever been with. He had his history. Did she really think there had never been another woman in his life?

His hand found her thigh, tightening almost painfully on her flesh. “Are you jealous?” he asked, darting another glance her way as he merged into another lane of traffic.

It was embarrassing. There was no denying it, not with how obvious and open her personality was. Every last thing she was thinking was plain to see right there on her face. Even if he wasn’t so damn intelligent, he’d have known every last thing going through her mind.

Sasha patted her leg before removing his hand to shift gears again. “I don’t fuck around, sweet. I don’t have any reason to play you. You’re my woman.”

She almost wept to hear those words, which only proved how idiotic she’d been acting. At one time she’d been a big-shot CEO of a lucrative business that she alone had created. Yet here she was, weeping like an angst-ridden teenager over stupid fears she should have left behind in high school.

Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re still getting over some pretty bad times. He’s not Jeremy.

And besides, isn’t it kind of nice, Sasha’s old-school possessiveness?

There was so much to explore still between them. This whole relationship had started so randomly. How could it be that two people would discover such passion, with such a delicious wicked streak through and through? But then, he’d been the criminal element lurking behind her business. To think, in the course of his criminal enterprises, he’d connected with her ex and talked him into converting her business into a call-girl operation.

She learned about it after the fact, and by then it was too late too really hate him.

That’s because you’re addicted to him, the same as if you were addicted to any drug. Sex with him had become her narcotic of choice, and she just didn’t want to come down from the Sasha high. Not that he’d ever said he was sorry for his part in things. But the fact that he took rare, amazing care of her had to count for a lot. So far, he’d proved his statement correct...he didn’t fuck around. And, to his credit, when she’d pieced together what was going on with her business he’d come clean about everything, just because she’d asked. Maybe it was crazy to think he was honest just because he’d told the truth about his crime, but she trusted him.

Keep in mind that from the moment he decided he wanted to be with you, he acted on it.

It was a heady thought. But then, the feeling had certainly been mutual. From the first instant Kallie had seen Sasha, all she’d thought about was sex. He was the embodiment of raw, carnal energy. Unlike Sasha, she might never have acted on her urgent animal desire to be with him. But he had been the one to act first. And Sasha Petrov was a man few heterosexual women would turn down, even for a one-night stand.

To think, they could have easily been each other’s conquest and moved on. They were both adults, and they both knew how life worked sometimes. Instead, he’d set her up in a plush townhouse and had been deliciously attentive ever since. He had done nothing except prove he was totally into her. Hadn’t he reaffirmed that just now?

“I got that,” said Kallie, a sheepish smile on her face. “It’s just you’re such an incredibly good-looking man, you gotta have offers.”

A wicked look washed over his face. “Are you saying you would have made me an offer if I hadn’t hit on you first?” he asked in a low growl that was pure sex. His hand slid over her thigh this time, his fingers finding their way underneath the hem of her denim dress.

The breath rose in Kallie’s chest like a sudden sea swell. She could hardly think. “I could definitely see myself having a few too many after-shift drinks and winding up on your lap,” she confessed.

“Hmmm...lap, huh?” Without warning, he turned the wheel sharply and overcorrected, bringing the car to a stop altogether, hand leaving her cold and bereft again as he maneuvered the gearshift. He looked at her long and hard. “Next time I’m taking a car that’s an automatic,” he muttered. Fortunately, no other traffic seemed to be present, save a series of cars parked along the curb. They were in a residential neighborhood Kallie had never seen before. She looked around her in surprise, as if just realizing that they’d been traveling all this time.

Sasha grabbed her for a hard kiss, and then very carefully took his hands off of her and placed them both on the wheel. “Forget the automatic. I should use a driver when we go places. You’re dangerous,” he said with a smoky look in his eyes.

Kallie giggled. She wanted to joke about how he was even more dangerous, but given he made his living on the wrong side of the law she thought twice about it, and kept silent.

“We have to be good,” he said as he set the car in motion again.

“I’m not the one being bad,” Kallie purred. “But if we weren’t going to misbehave, why did we pull over?”

His hand crept up her thigh. “Because I didn’t want to crash us. Damn,” he whispered. “What you do to me.” He shook his head. “I might as well tell you, we’re going to my mother’s.”

Kallie choked as she straightened her spine with a jerk. She looked down at her dress. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’m not dressed appropriately. I would have worn....” She gestured helplessly at her clothing, not sure what she would have worn. A business suit? Something casual, but more modest?

Sasha laughed out loud. “I am glad I saved the news till now. I needed the buzz kill or I’d have to do you just to be able to drive.”

She scolded him with a look. She didn’t really have a problem with his graphic language, but she felt the situation warranted it. “Nice. Real nice.”

“Hey,” he countered with a shrug that he seemed to use a lot to absolve himself of all transgressions. “Besides, if I thought for one second you weren’t appropriately dressed I would have said something. You look more than fine.”

“Yeah, if you were going to ‘do me in the car’,” she muttered, all thoughts of sex and flirtation gone.

His hand strayed towards her again, but she air-slapped it.

Sasha recoiled, putting his hand firmly back on the gear shift and revving the engine unnecessarily. The car responded with a lion’s roar. “You look more than fine, dammit.”

“Not for your mother,” she insisted. “This is not a ‘meet the mother’ dress.”

“It is a meet the mother dress. My mother is cool. Not that we don’t have to act respectably around her, but I promise she’s cool.”

“I wish I had a sweater,” she complained, crossing her arms across her chest.

He glanced over at her. “You aren’t showing any cleavage. When you stand up, the hem is the right length. What’s the complaint?”

“It’s a little form-fitting.”

“You have a great little form.”

“She’s going to think I’m a whore...” She was whining now, and knew it.

He laughed. “She’s going to hope, for her son’s sake, you are.”

Kallie socked him. It made no difference. His arm was solid as a rock and it frustrated her that it had no effect on him whatsoever.

“Hey,” he admonished gently. “No hitting.”

“Like it did any good...”

“It never does. Now knock it off,” he said a bit sternly. “No need to be nervous. If I didn’t think my mother would like you, we would be going to some place in downtown Pikesville.”

She stared out the window, refusing to even look at him. “How come you didn’t give me any warning?”

“Well, look at you now,” he remarked, his own voice tense and angry. “Maybe I was afraid you’d do just this.”

That stung. She swung back around to face him. “Don’t you think my reaction has something to do with the fact that you caught me off guard?”

“I think it has to do with the fact that you think you have to be on guard,” he replied gently. “I’m going to be there. You’ll get through this. This is my mother. It’s not going to be as bad as you seem to think.”

“Okay.” She sighed a little, somewhat mollified. “I can be a little neurotic, can’t I?”

“Just a little,” he answered, a little too sweetly.

The Gran Torino pulled into the driveway of a perfectly-kept home. Like Sasha’s other places, it looked like something out of a movie set. She eyed it, not liking the Stepford Wives vibe.

“Does your mother live here by herself?” Kallie asked, her eyes going wide when she realized that the house stretched further back from the road than she thought it had originally. The place was huge.

“Why? Do you think you should switch places?” he asked with a wink.

“It’s just a lot of house for one person,” she remarked, a little daunted by this show of wealth.

“My mother likes to keep a home. This makes her happy,” he said, getting out of the car. “And thankfully very busy.”

Kallie’s father and mother had taught her that she could tell a lot about a person by the way he or she treated their parents. The part about keeping his mother busy despite his promises that she was ‘cool’ should have been Kallie’s first clue.

Maybe it was nerves, but she didn’t feel the same warmth in Sasha’s mother’s house as she felt with him. Everything felt cold about the place. Not that things didn’t look perfect, with everything in its place, just like Sasha’s townhouse and house in Federal Hill, but there was definitely a ‘please don’t touch’ vibe to the way everything was arranged, starting with the lawn and landscaping. She half-expected ‘Keep off the Grass’ signs as they approached the front door.

She really wished she had worn something a little more sedate.

A tall, lean, energetic woman with amazing hair burst through the door and kissed Sasha on the cheek with loud cries of welcome. The resemblance was unmistakable. And though there was an obvious family resemblance to Sasha, the woman hardly looked old enough to be his mother.

Sasha’s mother greeted him as though she hadn’t seen him months, whisking right by Kallie without acknowledging her. Surely, Kallie wasn’t the same surprise to her as Sasha’s mother had been to Kallie.

Right?

She eyed Sasha uneasily.

Sasha gently steered his doting mother back around to introduce Kallie. “Mom, this is Kallie Margolis. Kallie this is my mother, Anya Petrov.”

Maybe Anya was just socially awkward. As they entered the house, it occurred to her that maybe Anya was an introvert and this big house was nothing more than a giant place in which to hide. As Kallie followed Sasha and Anya into the entry, the smell of lunch teased her in the best possible way. Something smelled amazing...the first positive of the entire experience thus far.

Anya brought them to a beautifully-set table. The dining room was walled in part by floor-to-ceiling windows, and a glass slider that separated the room from an indoor garden. The view was lovely.

“Please...” Anya invited everyone to sit. Her name and her face were Russian, but her voice was pure American—an unexpected surprise. Kallie half-expected her to have an accent.

Sasha pulled out his mother’s chair for her, helping to seat her in the most solicitous way possible. It was a good sign, the way he doted on his mother. As he turned to seat her, she thought about the lessons her parents had given her and smiled a little to herself. A very good sign indeed.

Once seated, Kallie’s attention turned to the food already on the table. Anya had gone to a lot of trouble. Kallie shifted uncomfortably. The meal was beautiful. Everything was beautiful.

She was...not dressed appropriately for this.

Sasha dished the food out for both women. It became clear that, in some respects, he and his mother had reversed roles. He knew exactly what she liked and how much to put on her plate. He copied the same for Kallie. Kallie didn’t mind. She was floating on a cloud of adoration for him. There was something very hot about the way he took care of people.

Half-distracted by her thoughts, Kallie thought she would go through the roof when she tasted the salad dressing. It was positively orgasmic. She closed her eyes in delight, her whole body giving a little shiver of pleasure before she caught herself. Then, utterly mortified as she realized what she’d just done, she shot Sasha a panicked look, only to find him grinning at her. He’d seen. Of course, he’d seen.

Thankfully, Anya seemed preoccupied with buttering her roll.

“Excuse me,” Kallie said to Anya, giving Sasha a look that positively dared him to say anything. “I don’t think I’ve tasted anything so good.”

“If you think that’s good,” Sasha said, holding out his fork, “try this.”

It looked like salad. Just salad with chicken and some green beans. She had no idea what recipe was being used, what spices to expect. But as she opened her mouth for the tidbit he offered, she realized she’d never had anything quite like this before. It was...amazing. Simply amazing. She moaned in ecstasy as the flavors exploded on her tongue.

Enjoying this, Sasha laughed.

Oddly enough, his mother didn’t seem to be flattered by her over-the top-reactions. “Is your mother a good cook?” Anya asked stiffly.

The subject of her mother wasn’t a good one in the best of circumstances. Sitting across from another mother, one who apparently was ready to sit in judgement of Kallie’s absent parents, put her back up. Her mother died when Kallie was seven. How the hell was she supposed to know what kind of cook her mother was? She barely remembered her. So, she flinched when asked, and found that this veiled accusation hurt more than she’d expected. She stared at her salad, suddenly not hungry, not wanting to be here at all.

My mother is dead. She died when I was very young.

She could have said those words. She could have mortified Anya the way she’d been mortified herself, but Kallie was better than that. At least that’s what she told herself when she opened her mouth and lied for the sake of politeness, “She cooked, ma’am, but not like this.”

“Oh,” Anya commented. “What did she like to cook?”

Sasha was eyeing her strangely. Could he be so sensitive to Kallie’s feelings?

That would be amazing, unless she was being super obvious in her distress, which she didn’t think she was. “Standards,” Kallie replied, trying frantically to remember what her mother actually did cook. “Pork chops, chicken. Very basic. Good, but not like this.”

It seemed a safe answer. Probably even true, even if she couldn’t remember, and in fact was fighting tears now because she couldn’t remember. What had her mom cooked?

“And where does she live?” Anya asked, leaning forward a little, her eyes glittering, waiting for her response.

“Mom,” Sasha interjected, cutting off his mother. “Her mother passed.”

Kallie stared at him. He knew? She had never said anything about her family. They’d never had any kind of personal history conversation beyond the recent demise of her company and the breakup of her engagement. She looked around at the table, trying to make sense of his previous knowledge. She wanted to ask but didn’t dare. Nor was he about to answer; she saw it in his face when she looked at him, that gentle shake of the head that made her feel as if she were being scolded.

Kallie gave him a look that let him know this topic wasn’t closed. She wondered how much else he knew.

Anya looked from one to the other. She was trying to read their reactions, Kallie realized. “I am sorry to hear that.” The words sounded right but the tone was too cold, too impersonal.

Kallie stared at her plate, with no idea how to get past the moment.

Sasha came to the rescue. He reached for a chocolate truffle stacked in the middle of the table. “Open,” he commanded.

Kallie’s cheeks crimsoned. Would he seriously play such an erotic game in front of his mother? She wanted to comply...and bit her lip, uncertain. He waited her out until, finally, she parted her lips and received the sweet dessert. It, like everything else she’d tasted, was incredible.

“That’s for after lunch,” his mother scolded, returning her attention to her salad.

Young in looks, old in attitude. Anya sounded like a querulous old woman, and Kallie had to wonder just how many young women Sasha had brought home to meet her. Had she been this possessive with his other...dates? Sasha was a virile man in his mid-thirties; surely, she wasn’t the first.

Anya was competitive, too. She grasped the salad tongs and dished more onto Kallie’s plate, though she’d barely eaten more than a bite. “Here,” she said stiffly. “Have some more of this if you’re hungry.”

Sasha made a face for Kallie, as if he didn’t agree. He uncorked a bottle of wine waiting to be served and poured some in everyone’s glass. Kallie shot him a grateful glance.

He smiled, dark eyes smoldering with unspoken promises.

His mother had to sense the sexual tension between them. The very thought of it made Kallie squirm. The whole meal felt positively surreal. She picked at her salad with her fork, obediently trying to work her way through the mound of food on her plate though she’d lost her appetite completely by now.

“This is from a winery in Virginia,” Sasha said, raising his glass. “This goes with either the salad or the chocolate. Gorgeous area. Loaded with B&Bs.”

“The wine?” Kallie asked, adopting a playful tone, trying to keep things light when all she wanted right now was to go home and cry.

“No, silly. In Virginia. Near the winery. Two-hundred-year-old mansions, beautifully restored. Four- poster beds. The whole nine yards. We should take a tour sometime.”

Maybe Anya wasn’t paying attention to the subtext, but Kallie was. Anything that remotely had to do with sex seemed to have become their cue to glance at each other with dark, longing looks. Sasha’s eyes were deep, smoldering and wicked, right under his mother’s nose. He extended his foot and glided it up along Kallie’s leg. She gasped, and bit back a moan as he found her inner thigh.

Sasha’s eyes were positively wicked. He withdrew his foot.

Kallie gulped some water.

“Is something the matter?” Anya asked, shooting them both a glance.

Sasha touched his mother’s arm to assure her. “It’s fine,” he said, and then he took a slow, sensual bite of lunch.

Kallie looked away, trying to keep from laughing.

Anya glared at her son in confusion. She seemed to know he was up to something, but hadn’t decided just what. It was clear she was annoyed. He gave her an innocent look and went back to his lunch.

Kallie tried to eat as well, thinking how it was probably wrong to judge someone in the matter of an hour. Maybe Anya just wasn’t the type to be social. Maybe her first impressions had been right. And while Kallie liked the fact that Sasha took such great care of his mother, if he hadn’t had such a strong personality Anya’s neediness could very well turn domineering. Thankfully he kept things somewhat in check, even if his antics seemed...well, maybe a little disrespectful. Like he had some growing up to do.

Thinking back to the prank of that morning, maybe he did.

But what about life with Anya? She had seen the type before. What if Anya was the sort to conjure up pretend emergencies just to have him pay attention to her? It was just a hunch; Kallie hoped she was wrong. She could definitely see a mother like Anya getting in the way of her son’s relationships.

And where would that leave her?

Down, girl. No one is talking about making you a permanent addition to the family just yet. Maybe this isn’t your worry to embrace.

Feeling somewhat chagrined, Kallie offered to help Anya clean up after lunch.

“We’ll do it together,” Sasha replied, already gathering the plates. “Mom cooks but doesn’t clean up.”

Anya didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by this revelation. She took Kallie’s hands in hers in a way that reminded Kallie of Sasha. Such a warm gesture when he did it, but Kallie just couldn’t seem to relax. Nothing here felt genuine. “It was lovely meeting you,” she said to Kallie stiffly. “I’m going to retire now.” Anya kissed Kallie on both cheeks, old-world-style. She said something in Russian to her son, who took his mother’s high-maintenance air in stride. By the look on Sasha’s face, Kallie could see that Anya had said something that didn’t set well with him. Anya disappeared into the house.

“She likes to nap after lunch,” Sasha whispered, then before she could say anything else he goosed her.

Kallie danced to avoid him, biting back a scream. She was fiercely ticklish, and he knew it. That didn’t stop him from trying again, until she erupted once with laughter. Immediately he shushed her, clearly happy with his little victory. She swatted at him. He rolled her into him in a backwards hug.

The laughter relieved the tension Anya’s vibe had created. Kallie had formed her opinion: Anya was a miserable woman, and Sasha must be a saint for putting up with her. She wasn’t about to tell him this, though. He probably knew. For that matter, he’d probably been told before. Their bodies swayed lazily, in no particular hurry to untangle.

He spoke to her in a low, soft voice. “I’ll give you a real tour of the place if you like, and then you and I will clean up together.”

The house was decked out with pictures of people in every room. They showcased a history, depicting mostly Anya and Sasha throughout the years. She might be a pill, but Anya was a great-looking woman; vibrant in her way. Sasha had said she would ‘nap’ like she was an old lady, but that had to be euphemism for her own dissatisfied escape. She looked tall and graceful, like a dancer, with the energy of one, too. Likely she was somewhere in the house, pouting that her son had brought home a woman who clearly was not Russian.

Sasha had her coloring and her height, but he was by no means fine-boned. His father must have been a linebacker. Kallie looked for a sign of his father, maybe a picture even, but she didn’t find one. “Are you an only child, Sasha?”

“I am. My mother raised me alone. Well, not exactly alone. Her parents were around. I spent a lot of time with my grandparents.”

He didn’t offer whether or not his father was in his life, and Kallie hesitated to ask. Maybe another time. After the brief tour, they got to the chore of after-lunch clean-up. They made a race of removing everything from the table and bringing it to the kitchen. Sasha had Kallie laughing hard as they worked. Here she balanced what was obviously fine china, dangerously stacked in her hands, and threatened to drop them because he was making her laugh so hard. The more she tried not to laugh, the more she did. “Take ‘em!” she gasped.

Deliciously cruel, he taunted her, “What’s the matter?”, closing in behind her as she struggled. “Heavy?” He playful pinched her beneath her armpit, a vulnerable spot he knew well. Miraculously, with intense reflexes, he steadied the precious dishes before they could crash to the floor.

Fear that she would cause a disaster in his mother’s house fired a shot of adrenaline through her. Kallie’s heart raced as the disaster was averted. “You jerk!”

Sasha took the dishes from her and placed them on the counter, then turned to warmly envelop her. He kissed her ear.

She sank into his embrace. It was like trying to hold onto a massive bear. As she turned her lips to meet his she felt a surge of passion as his soft, warm lips pressed hers. Her lips parted under his assault. He was quite simply something she could not deny.

Slowly, Sasha broke the kiss.

Completely under his spell she tried to turn her attention to the task at hand, turning every now and again for another kiss, another touch. Every move from then on was an intoxicating, sensual tease. They couldn’t very well go find the nearest empty bedroom and hammer out their antagonizing chemistry, as they might have if they were in her townhouse. Even if Sasha had wanted it, she would have said no. To do so in his mother’s house would have been too strange. Too wrong.

Perhaps he felt the same.

The fine dishes couldn’t be washed in the dishwasher. They had to wash them by hand. They scraped the plates into the garbage and stacked them in the sink. Sasha sandwiched Kallie between the sink and him and sensually commandeered her work.

She remained speechless.

He turned on the water, checking it for temperature. He spilled soap over the stack, bracing her firmly in his arms. His hips fitted up against her backside and grazed her just enough as he washed the dishes. Around her.

She reached in the sudsy warm water to help, but they were playing more than they were washing.

“You okay?” he asked her wickedly.

“I think I’m going to faint,” she said, and pantomimed the graceful decline of a Southern Belle, using a dish towel to fan herself.

He grabbed at her hand, replacing towel with sponge, and glided it across a lunch plate in a slow, deliberate motion. Though he was playing with her, she realized he was making sure the dish was actually washed. He set it in the dishrack to drain. “That’s one,” he whispered against her cheek.

They were quiet for a while, focusing more on the task at hand. They had no choice; they were driving themselves crazy. The burning agony of being in his arms was getting to be too much to handle. She either needed to find a different subject, something that would defuse this wild, crazy tension between him, or the heck with her squeamishness about sex in his mother’s house. She’d gladly let him take her on the kitchen counter.

“How did you know my mother died?”

It was like throwing ice water on a fiery inferno.

“I just know.

“I know you know,” Kallie said, arching her brow. “Because you know.”

Sasha sighed and nodded. “That was clear.”

“Do you know things about everyone you meet?” she demanded, sex and flirtation forgotten when she ran up against another one of Sasha’s impenetrable stone walls.

“I don’t think you’re ‘everyone,’ do you?”

He was so damn smooth. He cleverly dodged the question, and then tried to wipe it from her mind by kissing the back of her neck with all the intensity of a vampire looking for a snack.

Kallie fell against his body, knees going weak at the intimacy of the kiss. Damn him for knowing that he could drug her with the merest touch of his lips to her skin. She cried out as he continued his exploration along her jaw, and bit down delicately on one earlobe. But before the sound could fill the room, his hand cupped and muted her mouth. He laughed. “Careful,” he warned. “We wouldn’t want my mother to hear us.”

“Now that’s just wrong, mentioning your mother at a moment like this,” Kallie muttered, still not entirely happy with him.

“Hey!” He stepped back as though she’d slapped him.

Great job. Try to keep a secret a little longer next time. I think it’s pretty clear to him that I don’t like his mother.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything that would make this better. She came up blank.

Sasha shot her a look. “Maybe we’d better finish up and go.”