Chapter Five

Anton stared at her for what felt like hours before he swallowed hard and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Do you think I’ll change my mind if we stand here looking at each other for long enough?”

Rubbing a hand over his face, he felt torn. The last thing he wanted to do was force her into it, despite his veiled threats the night before. They had been nothing but a lie. Was marriage really what she wanted with him?

A hoarse sound escaped his throat. “You’re sure that this is what you want, Viviana … Positive?”

Pushing blankets off her form, she moved from the bed to stand. Anton stood stock-still, watching as she pawed through a small pile of folded clothes he’d placed at the end of the bed. It was her clothing, stuff that Boris had brought back from the dorm. Nothing much, but enough to do her for a short while.

“Thank you for getting these. I don’t mind your shirts,” she said tugging on the end of the one she wore with a grin. “But, they’re a little big.”

“I couldn’t keep the stuff you arrived in. They needed to be destroyed, so I hope you weren’t attached to anything in particular. The guys managed to do one thing right when they packed you a bag. It’s in my closet, but anything else you need, we can buy. Your dorm was … ruined.”

Viviana coughed nervously. “And?”

“You were seen entering your dorm the night before with a friend, distraught and in a hurry. A family emergency called you back to the States. In your rush, you left a small space heater turned on, which set a blanket on fire the next afternoon and then burned down half the wing. At least that’s what the report will say. Damages will be paid in full. The university won’t want to speak with you as you’ll be … indisposed … due to said family issues, and you’re not expected to return there.”

Anton checked his watch before continuing. “Also, you’ll have a short interview over the phone with a fire marshal named Dick Stevens, and an RCMP officer by the name of Ronnie McCloud with the usual questions, approximate times, and whatever other nonsense they feel like handling. During the interview, you’ll be properly distressed over what happened, make several apologies for the recorder to hear, and show an appropriate level of guilt in regards to your irresponsible actions.”

“Okay,” she said, turning to grab the clothes.

“Just okay?” He was surprised she’d take that all so easily. Anton moved to Viviana’s side, wanting to be closer. His hand curved around her arm as his thumb swept a line back and forth at the crease of her elbow. Heat bloomed at the touch, saturating his senses with an onslaught of memories and need. “You don’t have any questions?”

Automatically, like second nature or an extension of his mind’s desires, she covered his hand with her own to calm the clear apprehension in his voice. At her touch, Anton stiffened, his thumb stopping its movements against Viviana’s skin. Despite having his hands on her bare legs the night before, this was different. Much, much different. It was intimate, so familiar in how neither of the two hesitated in wanting to reassure the other. As if they’d done this before … maybe.

Old souls …

She seemed to struggle to breathe as they both stared down at their connected hands. “Yes, just okay. I’ll do the interviews when I need to, act how you suggested, and give whatever answers they need to hear. Nothing happened, right? A friend, a family emergency, and my forgetful self somehow managed to leave a heater running. How terrible, but nothing more than a mistake. I can handle that, Anton. I can.”

“Why?” he murmured, fingers squeezing lightly at the question. She shrugged, clearly confused at what he was asking. Anton moved closer still, lips finding her temple as his free arm wrapped around her waist. With her close to his side, he felt at home. “Why are you agreeing to marry me when last night you wanted me to let you go?”

Turning in his embrace, Viviana faced him. With no men around to see where his weakness truly lay, Anton knew there was an honest vulnerability written in the way he held her tighter. If he didn’t hold on, she might disappear. Ridiculous, yes, but he’d waited so fucking long for this girl.

“You were right … I knew I wasn’t safe—that I probably wouldn’t ever be,” she replied quietly. “Like tied down, you know? I felt trapped, so I got to this point where I didn’t have to think about it. I was just trying to get from point A to point B without worrying about who was following behind.”

“That’s still not an answer, Viviana.”

She poked his chest with a finger. “Remember that night in Barbados?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a small smile, heat rushing through his blood. “Of course I do, can’t forget it. Sweet sixteen, tanned legs, and you made me yours so fast …” Anton trailed off with a low whistle. “One of my very best memories.”

“I’ve never been serious with someone.” Viviana released his hand and covered the mark on her neck with a frown. While he didn’t have room to judge her on those choices, he hated the position she put herself in with that bodyguard. “I’ve done things—”

Anton’s dismissive sound interrupted her. No way was he going to let her feel badly. “Me, too. Who came after and the in-betweens didn’t matter. I told you that, and I meant it.”

“Two meetings in all those years; that’s all we got. We weren’t allowed to see each other or keep contact in between. You were just a short drive away. There didn’t have to be other people at all.”

Two meetings, yes, but there were reasons for that. And one of those meetings had been when they were just children.

“It wasn’t safe,” he reminded gently. “Once the arrangement was out in the open, you witnessed how dangerous it turned for your father.”

“Regardless, I still felt tethered to something that I knew was out there, but just wasn’t with me yet. That’s why I couldn’t keep someone close to me, or bother going farther than just the bedroom.”

“I’m sorry?”

Anton’s confusion only led to amusement glittering in the beautiful brown eyes looking up at him. Oh God, those eyes … so familiar, yet so new. Already, he was reconsidering old promises he’d made to dead men.

“Tied down again, tethered to you.” She pointed at his chest, smiling as she said, “As if you were exactly where I was always supposed to end up someday. A moth and a flame, that’s how I felt—drawn to you. Even after my family was buried and I was told this wouldn’t happen, I still couldn’t manage to keep a relationship because it wasn’t meant to be. I didn’t even know you, not really, but all I’d ever been told was that you were going to be mine. It never felt arranged, Anton, not once.”

Her fingers traced the vines drawing up his arm before crossing the black rose that covered his right pec. He was so enjoying the silky feeling of her touch when Viviana added, “And clearly I’ve always been yours, too.”

Maybe his cold heart stuttered just a bit—missing, skipping beats when he grasped her jaw and tilted her head back up to look her in the eyes. “Always, Viviana.”

“I’m scared,” she confessed softly. “This was intended to be an easy transition for me. Instead, I watched your men shoot my bodyguard, kidnap me, and now I’m in hiding. That’s not how this was supposed to happen.”

“That excuse for a bull was nothing more than a ruse,” Anton muttered unhappily. “I won’t regret that choice.”

“Nobody likes to off a woman, right? Especially if that woman is Roman’s daughter.”

Something struck a chord with Anton at her quiet words. “Why would you say that?”

“I didn’t,” Viviana answered, “Sam did. That’s what he told me. I just didn’t hear him like he wanted me to, I suppose. Maybe he was trying to give me fair warning.”

“Another reason for me not to feel bothered over it, then.”

“Would he have done it, though?”

“No,” he said immediately. “I wouldn’t have given him the chance. In fact, I didn’t.”

“Announcements, seating placements, flower arrangements, and all that nonsense seems really ridiculous to think about right now, given everything.”

Anton chuckled darkly. “The last day has been rough, give it some time. I want you to feel safe—that this is yours, too. Maybe find a routine for yourself if you need. There’s lots to do around here; you won’t be bored. School can happen again if you’re serious about continuing, but first I want to ensure your safety. If you want, there are two spare bedrooms down the hall. Pick one, it’s yours, and when you’re ready, you’re welcome to mine.”

Teeth cut into her lip as she considered his offer. “I liked waking up in here …” Trailing off, Viviana made a face. “I don’t think I’d like waking up to another woman in the room again, especially if that woman happens to be your mother. Boundaries, you know?”

Anton choked a little on his sudden rise of mortification at the statement.

“There’s a stairwell that connects our apartments with locks on either side. While they have their own entrance, I usually keep my lock turned off so she can come and go as she gets on quite well with Clarissa. I certainly didn’t intend to embarrass you, and she likely assumed you wouldn’t be in my bed, considering everything. Sasha knows my desire for privacy and that you’re going to need time to adjust to things, but she also takes the chance to mother me when I’m close by. I suppose she was so excited to finally see you again, my father, too, though he doesn’t leave the upstairs.”

“Stop rambling. I want to stay in here. I felt safer the moment I knew you were close, but that …” she murmured, pointing at the gun on the couch cushion, “needs to stay in the drawer or something, okay? I’ll keep sleeping in here; I bet you’ll feel better with me close, too.”

“With me,” he clarified. The husky, suggestive tone behind the words had an immediate effect on Viviana as her pupils dilated and her fingers tightened their hold on his. “Because this room is the only one besides my office and the basement that has responding motion sensors to the whole house. The others are floor by floor. I’m not sleeping on that couch for one more night, Vine; it makes my back ache.”

Throwing him a cheeky grin over her shoulder as she scooped up the clothes off the bed, Viviana said, “We’ll see how it goes.”

Anton’s face darkened, want and lust suddenly thrumming deep like the race in his pulse. Eyes narrowed, and taking a step closer to Viviana, he loved how she shivered. “I like lace, satin, and silk. Something that feels nice under my hands and I can tear right off without much trouble. Anything short enough to show those legs of yours off, and heels in every fucking color, hmm? Keep that in mind when Ivan brings over your cards and a new laptop later in the week.”

Her mouth fell slack. “But …”

“Keep it in mind,” he repeated thickly.

• • •

The kitchen looked like a hurricane had passed through. With empty meat and fresh vegetable packages strewn across the counters, pans dirtied from having been used earlier, and no one in sight, Viviana wondered where the food had gone.

Anton seemed to pick up on her confusion. “Rocco is fed a natural raw and cooked diet. He doesn’t eat kibble; it’s not as healthy. It’s a good balance, keeps him happy, his coat looking nicer, and he doesn’t eat nearly as much as a dog fed on a dry-only diet as he gets sated faster.”

“That seems like a lot of work.”

He shrugged, picking up the empty packages and opening the garbage to dispose of them. “Sure, but it’s worth the results. He’s never sick, he’s more aware, and of course the most obvious, he’s healthier.”

“He sounds spoiled,” she teased.

Dishes, pans, and utensils were tossed into a stainless steel dishwasher. She helped in silence, noticing all the shades were drawn throughout the room. With dark, cherry oak cupboards, black granite, stainless steel appliances, and grey tiled floors, the space was modern and comfortable with a table that could seat a dozen people in its high-back, leather chairs.

“Far from it,” he finally replied. Then, a quiet beep sounded from a panel on the wall above the light switch. Nodding at the panel, Anton said, “Clarissa is bringing him inside from the backyard. He’ll let her enter first, but if it were me—or you—he would make his way in ahead of us to check the space out and make sure it was empty. Always let him do that, no matter if you feel it’s ridiculous or not. That’s a part of Rocco’s job, not allowing him to do it confuses him. He’ll always alert you if it isn’t safe.”

“Does he ever … I don’t know, have time off or just a day where he gets to be a normal dog?”

Anton looked up from the paper he’d picked up from the table. “Why?”

“Well, he is a dog, Anton. He should get to act like one, I suppose. You don’t agree?”

“No, I do, but for the time being he has to be on high-alert for me. He can hear things we can’t, smell things that are long faded, or search you out in a scenario where I possibly couldn’t. When he takes his walk to the small park about a mile away, he gets some time to burn off energy, play with other dogs, or whatever else he needs to blow off steam.”

“Do you ever take him out?”

The newspaper was forgone back to the table. “Usually. Some days I can’t, though, so Clarissa or Ivan does it instead, depending on their schedule. We work it out. Rocco always gets his time for him.”

Close enough to read the labeled rooms and spaces on the panel, Viviana saw just how big the ground level of the house really was. With a bedroom, bathroom, and hallway at the back of the house, there was a front entrance with another hallway that led to the stairwell and front entrance to the kitchen. A three level house with a basement and attic meant the home was huge, and she’d only managed to see just a few parts of it.

She wanted to look out the window, gauge where exactly in Brooklyn they were, but Viviana had a feeling she probably shouldn’t. “This is too big to be a normal house,” she realized.

Anton agreed silently, lifting one shoulder in acknowledgement. “Was an apartment building, but I had it renovated a couple years back to join the separated spaces and put the safety measures in. I wanted the possibility that I wouldn’t have to send you out of state somewhere to keep you safe—that we could be together instead of separated.”

“How much did it cost?”

“Enough. Five million, though it was closer to seven once I was done with everything.”

“And it is safe, right, despite the location?”

Anton looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “Of course it is, Vine! It’s not attached to my name. The feds haven’t realized this is where I’m staying after I do three car switches before coming home, and your uncle’s idiots haven’t managed to follow me here, yet. We’ll have another week or two at least before someone figures it out, I’m sure.”

“And then what?” she asked. “I imagine your clubs keep you out late, not to mention whatever else. Just … will it be safe then?”

He crossed the floor before she had time to blink, his large hand grasping tight to the curve in her waist while the other lifted up her chin. “I’ll be home every night, or at the least, I will be there for you to wake up to, always. I decided a long time ago that there weren’t a great deal of things more important to me than this right here. If I can’t be home, for whatever reason, I’ll let you know myself. No phone calls from anyone else, only me. A man at both entrances, I told you that last night. Someone capable will always be here. You must know how to shoot a gun, so Ivan will show you where the weapons are located in every room. I thought you were going to trust me?”

“I am,” she insisted. “It’s—”

A low cough interrupted them both. “Mr. Avdonin, Ivan called a half hour ago to say he’ll be a little late getting to the club.”

Anton didn’t turn around, keeping Viviana’s vision blocked. “Where is Rocco?”

“At the back entrance on the mat,” she answered.

“Send him in to meet Viviana, please.”

“Sure.”

A low whistle sounded, followed by two words spoke sharply in Russian. Anton stepped to the side as the sounds of Rocco’s nails hitting the tiled floor echoed down the hallway. It was only then that Viviana finally got a good look at Clarissa, and her older age was surprising. She assumed the woman would be younger, but the lines on her smiling face and the grey in her hair said differently. Keeping her eyes drawn to the floor and avoiding direct contact, her hands were clasped to her front. The maid all but melted into the wall, seemingly wanting to be out of sight.

A jogging Rocco entered the kitchen without hesitating to pass Clarissa by. She didn’t reach out to touch him, and he didn’t stop to acknowledge her presence, either. With a quick snap of two fingers, Anton spoke a low command and rose a palm to the air. Rocco sat, head cocked to the side and big brown eyes looking up, waiting.

He was gorgeous with his short coat, the tan, brown, and black markings brushed and cleaned. With high pointed ears, his body sitting with a disciplined straightness, and a tail that lay flat and unmoving to the floor, he looked commanding. Not at all like a carefree, spoiled house pet, but instead, an animal always on the watch and wait for his next command.

Anton’s finger cut through the air; Rocco stood and moved closer at the silent command, coming to sit at his feet. With one hand, he pet the dog’s head between his ears, lightly, speaking softly in Russian. Viviana looked up to see Clarissa had vanished from her spot against the wall, the panel across the room beeping to say she’d entered the back bedroom.

“Go on,” Anton said with a wave. “Pet him; say hello.”

The animal watched her warily as she bent down. With her knees to the floor, her face was level to his chest. A massive beast with muscles that wrapped his every surface, she could see how he would be frightening to some. But he wasn’t to her. Viviana thought he was just simply beautiful.

“Ciao,” she whispered, her hand out to pet Rocco. When her palm met the spot between his ears, the dog pushed back against the hand instantly. Warmth spread through her insides at the action. “You’re an awfully pretty boy.”

“Pretty.” Anton scoffed under his breath. “He’s a brute, just look at him.” Viviana grinned, sticking out a tongue playfully in response. Amusement spread across Anton’s strong features as she scratched the backs of Rocco’s ears. “He likes it when you rub the tips.”

She did just that, hearing the quiet thumps of the dog’s tail hitting the floor behind him. “Hmm, but he is pretty.”

Anton bent down and rubbed under the dog’s muzzle. “He’s yours, so he can be whatever you want him to be, I guess.” With one word in Russian, Anton lifted the dog’s muzzle and murmured, “Viviana, Rocco.” He repeated the word again, thumb rubbing at the animal’s mouth softly. “Good boy.”

The tail stopped thumping on the floor. Rocco’s large head pushed a little harder against the palm of her hand. “What did you just say?”

Anton smiled, making her skin tingle and lungs expand heavily. With her heart hammering, she watched him reach out and stroke her cheek with two fingers. Viviana couldn’t help herself when she turned her face into his touch, wanting the heat of his palm against her skin.

Something drummed deep in her blood, rushing fast and hard. Her instinct, maybe, recognizing how easy wanting Anton really was for her, just like it always had been. A term like “soul mate” seemed to fit, especially since she seemed to want him closer, needing the feeling of home nearer. From the very start, that’s how he’d always made her feel, scarily so.

“Tvoyo—yours,” Anton explained, his fingers still stroking, and his voice thick with emotions that underlined his words. “Like me, he’s waited a long time to have you with him.”