Chapter Eight
Knox backed his Harley into an open parking spot outside JJ’s apartment and killed the engine. At eight o’clock on a Saturday night, the world around him was anything but quiet, but it still seemed tame in the absence of his bike’s throaty rumble. Smiling to himself, he jogged up the steps. Tonight would be interesting for sure. Not only had JJ delivered the code generated from the first lesson he’d assigned her, but it had hit his inbox two hours early.
Knox,
My code is attached. Hurdle one is complete. Assuming the quality meets or exceeds your exacting standards, I’ll be ready to tackle task two at eight o’clock tomorrow.
Sincerely,
JJ
Oh, yeah. He’d definitely fired her up with his Thursday morning visit. Which sucked for him because the attitude was a total fucking turn-on. Especially paired with her crazy-quick wit and serious intelligence.
Still, there’d been a purpose behind him prodding her temper, and it had worked just like he’d hoped. She had a long way to go before she had so much as a prayer of making a living writing apps, and the best way he sensed he’d help her was with some good old-fashioned challenge.
He rapped his knuckles against the old wood door and studied the highway in the distance. Much as he hated to admit it, his head had spent way too much time the last few days rehashing the last time he’d stood in this spot. Or, more to the point, the image of her in that short robe with her sinfully long legs on prime display. No way had she had anything on underneath it. He’d been suspicious when she’d gripped the lapels between her breasts and waved him in, but seeing how much of her thighs were exposed when she sat behind her desk cinched it. How he’d stopped from dropping to his knees, anchoring her thighs over his shoulders and tonguing her cunt until she screamed was a damned miracle.
The deadbolt disengaged and the door opened.
Damn.
Talk about a gorgeous woman. Why it hadn’t occurred to him to spell out what she should wear he couldn’t say, but seeing her in her sheer white top, tight black fuck-me skirt and matching heels was damn well worth the miscommunication.
He prowled forward not waiting for an invite, taking his sweet time as he did so and giving her a solid once over. “You look great.”
Interestingly enough, she waited until the last possible second to step aside and let him pass, and if he wasn’t mistaken her lips pursed with a barely restrained smirk. “Thank you. Although, I hope you’ll forgive me if I say the effort was for your brothers and not for you.”
And there was the attitude again. It might have been veiled under a polite and formal response, but the bite was there none the less. Totally hot.
Her television remote sat on one end of the glass coffee table, perfectly perpendicular to the edge. As if her smarts, sass and sex appeal weren’t already enough of a package, she had to go and give his compulsive drive for neatness a run for its money. Sighing, he rounded the table, snatched up the remote and made himself at home on her couch. “Sweetheart, if you didn’t have them eating out of your hand with your accent, you’d definitely seal the deal with your legs. Only problem is, where we’re going, you’re going to need to dress a whole lot more casual.”
She frowned, checked her appearance, then shot her gaze back to him. “But you said this was an interview.”
“No, I said you were going to meet my brothers. Big difference. Between where we’re going and the way we’re getting there, I’m thinking you’d be smart to ditch the skirt and wiggle into some jeans. Boots, too, if you’ve got ’em.”
“Boots?”
He punched the power button and fought the need to kick his feet up on the coffee table. Comfort was one thing, but mucking up the clean surface seemed a dick move even if he was out to build some professional distance with his demanding behavior. “Yep. Whatever kind you’ve got. Or close-toed shoes if you don’t have those.”
“Why?”
Thumbing through the guide, he scowled at the screen. Basic cable only. He’d have to fix that. Assuming she got a thumbs-up from the guys and things moved forward. Then again, as busy as he planned to keep her, movie binges wouldn’t be in her future for a while. He punched CNN and dialed back the volume. “Because while you’d look badass wearing those heels riding on the back of my bike, they wouldn’t do much to keep your pretty toes protected.”
“Your bike?” It was just two words, but with them a whole new demeanor swept over her, the sharp-edged battle-ready business woman replaced with a kid pre-Christmas morning. “You mean motorcycle, correct? Not bicycle.”
For some stupid reason, his mind coughed up the ludicrous image of him peddling his old hand-me-down dirt bike with her perched in the center of the handlebars. “That depends. Is your enthusiasm in favor of the motorized variety? Or do you have a thing for self-powered means of transportation?”
The smile she shot him was blinding. Pure, unadulterated joy in the making. “I’m very much in favor of motorcycles.”
Fuck.
Her accent was sexy enough when she was throwing him sass, but mixed with the husky rasp it was downright lethal. Thank God he was sitting down and stretched out to give his dick room to swell or he’d be damned uncomfortable. “Are you a fan because you’ve ridden before, or because you want to?”
“I’ve never been, but I’ve always wanted to.”
Well, wasn’t this a delightful revelation. He’d get to feel her body pressed against him and he’d give her a first. A win-win for everyone. He jerked his head toward her bedroom and prayed she’d be too preoccupied in her excitement to notice how much he was looking forward to popping at least one kind of cherry. “Then get a move on. We need to get you saddled up and ready to ride.”
* * *
Riding on the back of a Harley with Knox Torren had to be on the top of Darya’s best-ever experience list. Everything seemed so much closer. So much more vibrant and tangible than it did from the safety of her car. With her chest pressed against his back, her arms banded around his solid abs and his rich masculine scent mingling with the whipping wind it was pure heaven on Earth. An extraordinary rush.
Knox leaned into a turn that took them through a major intersection and steered them toward a park on the opposite side of the highway bustling with at least a thousand people. A well-manicured green stretched the length of two city blocks, dotted on each side with slender pin oaks and old-fashioned street lights. At the farthest end, a huge stage had been set up, it’s red, blue and white lights pulsing in time with music that registered even above the motorcycle’s roar.
She smiled and hugged her arms tighter around Knox. JJ would have loved this. Every second of it. Although, knowing JJ, she wouldn’t have been content as a mere passenger. No, ten minutes into the ride, she’d have devised a plan to buy her own bike and would’ve launched her first solo trip shortly after. Nothing had ever held JJ back. Not her fears and certainly not her past—which was the main reason she’d been so adamant to help Darya right up until the day she’d died.
Too soon, Knox backed them into a line of other motorcycles in a makeshift parking lot. All the others were similar in size to his, but none had the same edgy appearance. Where the others were all shiny chrome and flash, his was lean, mean and all business with ebony paint and matte black pipes. He killed the engine and the thrumming beat of a blues song surged in to fill the void.
So, this was what a live concert was like. Directly in front of the stage, the crowd was thick with people standing shoulder to shoulder, but farther back clusters of attendees had set up sport chairs or thrown down blankets to enjoy the show. Most fascinating of all were the variety of people. Young, old and everyone in between. Social status didn’t seem to equate here. As if all the world’s biases had clocked out for the night and simply opened its arms to everyone.
Knox craned his head just enough to grin back at her. “If you hop off, I’ll get you in the thick of it instead of making you soak it up from the parking lot.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” She braced her hands on his shoulders, barely stifling the urge to savor the compacted muscles beneath her palms, and set about getting herself vertical. Thankfully, the dismount came off a lot less awkward than when she’d climbed on. Then again, after the exhilarating ride, she was so pumped up on adrenaline she probably could have levitated off the machine if she’d put her mind to it.
The second she cleared the seat, Knox popped the kickstand, put the bike to rest and swung his leg over the back like a modern-day cowboy.
Maybe it was the energy around her, or the genuine smile he gave her as he turned and stuffed his keys inside the pocket of his faded jeans. But in one overpowering moment, all the emotions she’d kept carefully contained since the day JJ died surged to the surface, knocking aside every scrap of common sense and decorum in favor of unadulterated gratitude.
She wasn’t alone. For this moment in time, she had companionship, was very much alive, safe and living free with the promise of a new and exciting future. She jolted forward, wrapped Knox up in a huge hug and rasped, “Thank you.”
His arms came around her, slow and gentle at first, then growing in strength. As though he’d intuited the storm roiling through her and sensed her need to be anchored. “Goes without saying, I like the way you show appreciation.” He slid his hands along her spine, splaying one between her shoulder blades and the other low on her back. Not quite on her ass, but low enough to make her body come alive and crave an entirely different connection. When he spoke, his voice was low and grated. “Not thinkin’ that’s a good idea though if I’m gonna be your boss.”
As fast as she’d lost control, reality snapped into place and she tried to pull away.
He held fast, forcing her hips more tightly against his.
He wanted her. If the heat behind his thundercloud-colored eyes didn’t convey it clearly enough, the impressive erection pressed against her made the realization irrefutable. Her heart kicked hard enough to rival the steady beat from the bass drum, and while she tried to temper her voice with a casual lightness, it came out breathy and ragged. “I’m so sorry. I was just...well, happy.”
“So am I now. Very much so.” His gaze dipped to her lips and he inhaled slow and deep, but instead of taking the kiss she hoped for, he relaxed his grip and eased her away. “Just not willing to cross that line with someone who wants to be my employee.”
“Of course.” She nodded and put more distance between them, hating the uncomfortable situation she’d created with her actions. Logically, she saw the reason behind the boundary. He was a businessman. A highly creative, driven and successful one. Unfortunately, common sense didn’t seem to be something her mind generated in high supply where Knox was concerned. “You should know, I didn’t intend it inappropriately. My family was very open in their affection and I tend to be the same. Sometimes impulsively so. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
He crowded closer, eradicating the buffer she’d created. “The last word I’d use to describe the feel of you next to me is uncomfortable. Stunned, maybe. Stoked and ready to go, absolutely. But even if I were willing to mix business and pleasure, I am not the kind of man you want to go there with. I may have only known you a handful of days, but I’ve seen and sensed enough to know you deserve a whole lot more than I’m willing to give any woman. Understand?”
Not really. Her instincts about people were seldom wrong, and everything they said about Knox was that he was not only trustworthy, but deeply loyal and caring. Then again, processing anything rational with him standing this close was impossible. She dipped her head in a crisp professional nod and forced herself to meet his stare. “Absolutely.”
He hit her with his killer smile and motioned toward the crowd with a jerk of his head. “Good, then let’s get you a tour and see if we can’t track down my family.”
The tour consisted of a leisurely stroll past five different barbecue vendors that left her mouth watering, an overflowing beer tent and three more booths specializing in wine, liquor and band merchandise. The closer they got to the stage, the stronger the music thrummed through her and the thicker the crowds grew, but throughout it, Knox kept his silence, guiding her this way and that and letting her soak up every detail.
Near the center of the venue sat a roped off section full of round tables with a private bar stationed in the middle. Knox splayed his hand low on her back, pointed toward it and leaned in close. “We’re headed there.”
To her left, a burly man with shoulder-length salt-and-pepper hair barked out a laugh, spun from a large cluster of men dressed as rugged as he was and stepped directly in her path.
Before she could dodge out of the way, Knox shifted his hand from her back to her hip, swiftly pulled her out of the big man’s trajectory and shielded her from any impact.
Burly man lifted both hands apologetically, scanned the two of them and beamed a full-toothed smile at Knox. “Hey, Knox, I wondered if I’d see you here.” His gaze shifted back to Darya for another much slower perusal before he returned his attention to Knox. “You lookin’ for your crew?”
Knox shook his head. “Nope. Clocked ’em in the VIP section already.”
“The perks of Axel bein’ the one who put this gig together I take it?”
“Something like that.” Knox squeezed his hand still anchored on her hip. “JJ, meet Seth. Seth, this is my friend JJ Simpson.”
Friend? That was an interesting choice for an introduction. Better than associate or colleague, maybe, but still not what she’d expected.
“Man, you’ve got a lot of friends and every one of them is hot.” Seth held out his big hand, heavy calluses lining his palm and two chunky silver rings adorning his fingers. A tangle of tribal tattoos snaked up and down his forearm. “Nice to meet you.”
His grip when she placed her hand in his was surprisingly gentle for such a big man. “Nice to meet you, too.”
He kept his hold, letting the possessive clasp linger as he assessed Knox, then dropped his hand and edged back. “You two hanging around awhile?”
“At least until the band wraps up.” Knox dipped his head in a way that indicated he was done with the conversation and nudged Darya toward the reserved section. “Let me get JJ situated and we’ll catch up later.”
“Oh, yeah we will. Count on it.” With that, Seth winked at her and sauntered off to wherever he’d been headed before he’d kamikazied into her path.
“Seth is a friend of yours?” she asked as they wove through the people.
“More of an acquaintance. He works for a guy who’s got business with my brother Jace.”
Before she could ask what kind of work a tough-looking man like Seth specialized in, they reached the restricted entry to the private area. Two men guarded the gate, both in tight-fitting black T-shirts with Security emblazoned in big letters on the back. Rather than ask them for names or identification as she’d expected, the mocha-skinned man with dreadlocks down to his shoulder blades flashed Knox a familiar smile and lifted his hand for a high-five greeting. “Hey, man. Wondered when you were gonna show.”
Knox greeted him in kind, an entirely different level of familiarity registering than what he’d shown Seth. “Hey, Ivan. Didn’t expect to see you on shit detail tonight.”
Ivan shrugged and rubbed the back of his hand against his chin. “You know how it goes. Axel needed help, so I ponied up.”
A look passed between them, one she couldn’t quite categorize, but seemed loaded with meaning.
“It all counts,” Knox said. “Doin’ time is worth it in the end.”
“I get it.” He jerked his head toward a table just beyond the private bar and food vendors set aside for VIPs. “Your crew’s dead ahead. Have a good time.”
Capturing her hand in his, Knox led the way, nodding and lifting his hand in greeting at different people along the way.
“You know a lot of people,” she said from behind him.
He glanced back and grinned. “My brothers know a lot of people. If left to my own devices, I’d probably never get out from behind my computer.”
Just as they approached the table Ivan had indicated, Knox released his hold. The band ended their song and announced they’d be back after a short break, and the crowd let loose with resounding applause.
A deep rumbling voice sounded from somewhere on the other side of Knox. “Thought we were gonna have to send Beckett out for search and rescue.”
She inched forward to see who’d spoken just as Knox stepped back and brought the whole table into full view. The impact was staggering. Even having shamelessly studied each of them in the picture she’d saved from the rally earlier in the year, the men Knox called brothers were twice as impressive in person. Next to three of them were equally beautiful women, each comfortably situated close to their men with happy, contented expressions.
Knox waved to the man and woman closest to him. “JJ, this is Jace and Vivienne. The two goobers next to him are Beckett and Danny. You’ll get more than your fair share of dealing with them if you end up on payroll.”
Darya nodded, all the nervousness she’d managed to ignore in the last hour surging back to the forefront along with a healthy fear she’d bungle this meeting altogether.
Not pausing to let anyone get a word in edgewise, Knox kept going. “The happy couples over there are Zeke and Gabe, and Trevor and Natalie. Both newlyweds and utterly disgusting to watch.”
The dark-haired woman he’d introduced as Vivienne frowned up at Knox. “What are we? Chopped liver?”
“It’s been a year and half,” Knox grumbled back. “You’re just a garden variety couple now. And I’m still convinced you two are piping suspicious shit into the water at Haven. All the lovey dovey’s contagious.”
The grate of metal on concrete sounded on her left, drawing her attention to the one brother she’d yet to meet. He was tall, at least six foot one, and would have been intimidating with his long russet hair and full beard if it weren’t for his tailored slacks and fine button-down with rolled up shirtsleeves. Despite the heat, he looked utterly comfortable among the rest of the casual crowd and not the least bit wrinkled.
Not waiting for Knox’s introduction, he stepped in close and offered his hand. “I’m Axel McKee.”
Darya placed her hand in his, expecting a polite shake, only to have him lift it to his lips. “It’s nice to meet you,” she managed, the sheer devilment in his wicked gaze hitting her harder than the kicks she’d earned in her last sparring session.
Axel grinned, his smile and the soft tickle of his whiskers against her skin sending goose bumps up her arm. “Christ, that accent’s gonna do me in.” Straightening, he kept hold of her hand, tugged her closer to his side and pulled a chair from behind them next to his. “What’s say you settle in next to me and ply me with it for a day or two?”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.” Knox slid the chair away, scooted it into an open slot on the far side of Jace and steered her that direction. “A word to the wise. Axel thinks it’s his God-given mission to seduce all the women in the tristate area. Sit next to Jace. He’s too busy getting into Viv’s panties to try and score yours.”
“You wound me, brother.” Axel settled into his chair, his eyes still on Darya as he raised his glass in salute. “And for the record, it’d be unsporting to limit myself to only our wee neck of the woods.”
Knox shook his head and focused on Darya. “Gonna make a drink run. You want something?”
A wide variety of wine, mixed drinks and beer rounded the table. If it were an interview, any kind of drinking would have been a horrid idea, but Knox had gone out of his way to emphasis this was a casual meeting. Plus, a little something to steady her nerves wouldn’t be unwelcome. “Vodka, please.”
“And now I’m in love,” Axel muttered as he leaned forward to catch her attention. “Ye sure ye don’t want ta set w’ me, lass? I’ll match ma scotch with yer Russian brew and we’ll break all kinds o’ international barriers.”
“Can it with the brogue, you dirty Scot,” Knox said. He splayed a hand on Darya’s shoulder, scanned the rest of his crew with a warning look and headed for the bar.
He’d barely made it three steps before Vivienne twisted in her seat. “So, you’re from Russia, right? What part?”
And so it began. She’d thought long and hard since learning Knox wanted her to meet his brothers about how to handle her past, and the only thing that had felt right was to be as honest as possible without sharing much in the way of details. “Yekaterinburg, but I moved to St. Petersburg once I completed my schooling.”
Dressed in simple navy blue tank top and cutoff jeans, the pretty honey-blonde woman Knox had introduced as Gabe piped up. “How long have you lived here?”
“Almost three years. Though most of it was spent in San Diego. I’ve only been in Texas for the last nine months.”
Vivienne chuckled. “Your first Texas summer. How are you holding up?”
“It’s different. Much warmer than Russia in summer, which is nice unless you’re on a horse. I went on a trail ride a few weeks ago and realized maybe I should have waited until fall.”
The blond brother with the ponytail perked up. Of all the men, he and Beckett had been the two she’d recognized on sight—Beckett because he’d been listed in some of the articles with Knox, and Trevor because he’d been the focus of a client request several months ago. That had been the job that had given her the courage and impetus to reach out to Knox to start with. “You like to ride?”
His wife, Natalie, snickered and rolled her eyes. “Oh, now she’s done it.”
For a second, she thought perhaps she’d stepped into a topic she shouldn’t have. Then she remembered the ranch that had been included in the pre-packaged information she’d passed on to Natalie’s ex-husband at Knox’s request. “I’d never been before but always wanted to, so I treated myself.”
Trevor cocked one eyebrow. “Yeah? What’d you think?”
“It was amazing. Though I would have liked it better with fewer people and a little less structure.”
“Well, we can swing that.” He hugged Natalie closer to him. “We’ve got horses out at our place and lots of room to roam.”
Danny leaned forward and crossed both arms on the table. “Man, I’ll take a Harley to a quarter horse any day.”
“Yeah, you said pigs would fly before you did, too,” Trevor said. “Now I can’t get you out of my Cessna.”
Shrugging, Danny lifted his beer for a drink, but smirked right before he tilted it. “That was before I knew how good planes were for impressing chicks.”
Gabe twisted enough to aim a frown up at Zeke. “Are you telling me the whole flying-on-a-first-date thing is a ploy you all use?”
Unlike the rest of the men, Zeke had a certain GQ appeal. Mostly short dark hair except a little longer and tousled on top with just enough scruff on his chin to give him a sexy edge. He smiled down at his woman, not the least bit ruffled by her sass. “You’ve got my rock on your finger, so I’m thinking it worked.”
“Mmm.” Natalie set her wineglass down on the table and cocked her head toward Gabe. “I’ll give you the pilot thing being hot, but it was seeing Trevor on the back of a horse that did me in.”
“See?” Trevor said to Danny. “Don’t knock horses. Women love ’em.”
“Screw that,” Jace grumbled. “Take the direct approach and bribe ’em. It’s faster and more effective.”
Well, that was an interesting crumb of information and surprisingly in line with the approach many of the men she knew in Russia were prone to take. She was just about to open her mouth and ask if he had any Slavic ancestry when Knox ambled up behind her, leaned in and plunked a short tumbler of vodka directly in front of her. “What are you guys talking about?”
Vivienne smirked at Jace then craned her neck toward Knox. “Somehow we’ve gone from polite weather chitchat to how best to snag a woman. Not surprisingly, Beckett and Axel have stayed tight lipped.”
Knox moved in on Darya’s right, glared at Beckett until he moved his chair over enough for Knox to sit between them, then plunked himself down. “So, basically you’re rubbing your marital bliss in everyone’s faces?”
“Something like that,” Jace said. His gaze rested on Darya for all of a second before he refocused on Knox. “If you want, we can rewind and start over so you can pick up a few pointers.”
Knox scowled back at him. “JJ’s angling for a coder slot. Not a hookup or a husband.”
Not a husband, no. But if Knox was the hookup in question, she’d absolutely sign up.
Jace winked at her like he’d overheard her thoughts then smiled at Knox. “Whatever you say, brother.”
“Knox said your real name’s Jeannie, right?” This from Gabe, who seemed either blissfully unaware of the good-natured razzing bouncing back and forth between Jace and Knox, or simply too accustomed to their banter to worry about it.
Darya sipped her vodka and nodded.
Gabe cocked her head. “So, what’s the JJ stand for?”
As fast and easy as Darya had settled in with the group, an icy wave of discomfort settled over her. It wasn’t the first time she’d been asked the question, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but every time she had to answer it drove a jagged spike through her heart. Reminded her of the woman she’d left behind and the risk she navigated every day parading herself as someone else.
One by one, she met the gazes of those around her. Every one of them stared back at her. Patient. Invested. Kind, but watchful. For fifteen minutes, she’d happily sat at their table and sensed only goodness. An open love for one another, as well as honor and protectiveness. Aside from the time she’d spent with JJ, she’d only felt the same sense of belonging with Yefim. A man who’d taken her in, taught her how to navigate the real world and saved her at high risk to himself.
Twice before, she’d trusted her instincts, and now they said to leap once more. To believe and take a chance at building something good while she could. JJ might not be beside her physically, but she could feel her steady presence as sure as a comforting hand pressed between her shoulder blades.
Live enough for both of us.
Yes, this was right. She felt it clear to her bones. “The truth is, my name isn’t JJ. Or Jeannie.” She met Knox’s steady gaze and swallowed. “My real name is Darya Volkova.”