THREE

“Could it be any hotter?” Erika complained a couple of hours later as she and Dale entered Scorch through the back door that was being manned by one of the club’s heavies. Erika flipped her honey-colored hair and yanked at her collar. “Think anyone would notice if I sewed some air panels into this thing, Kong? You know? Like the ones you see on workout gear. I could totally do it.”

Kong shrugged one of his massive shoulders and offered a crooked smile through the piercings lining his bottom lip. His intense stare went down Dale and Erika’s bodies with an almost clinical edge. “You’d probably get spanked for fucking with the goods.”

As Dale started down the hallway, Erika appeared to consider what had started as a joke. She looked deep in thought as she smoothed down the short black trench coat that came with their uniforms. All the girls were required to wear them when they came on shift, and Dale had to admit their boss had great taste. When twenty of the girls were all together in their coats, stillies, and fishnets, they looked fabulous.

Dale was about to turn and tell Erika to mention the idea to Farah, but the words never made it out because as she passed by the doors leading to the basement, one opened and a man dressed in dark clothing stepped out in front of her. She slammed hard into his back, bumped her nose against his spine, and fumbled her purse but didn’t drop it.

“Sh…ugar,” she corrected just in time. One never knew when another might take offense to cursing. “I’m so sorry.” Fuck, something smelled gorgeous. “My shoes wouldn’t let me stop in time.” Tall guy. Hard body. But that was all she got because her eyes were watering. She blinked rapidly before the tears reached her mascara and caused a catastrophe. “Not that I had any indication you were about to pop out of thin air,” she added, laughing as her vision cleared. She looked up when the big, gorgeous smelling mute turned.

Low-lidded pale-grey eyes met hers and her ability to breathe screwed the pooch. He smelled gorgeous because the man wearing the beautifully cut black suit was gorgeous. His hair was dark and had a slight wave, his square jaw a hard edge, and those firm lips looked like something she could spend hours on. Or they could spend hours on her. She wasn’t fussy.

“I’m…so sorry. I…” Small heat pockets began popping up all over Dale’s body, releasing steam that seemed to curl in the air between them. As she struggled to form some words, she was knocked further into the nether by a blast of lust so genuine and innocent she could only describe it as pristine. It wasn’t created from anything other than the chemistry weaving around their bodies. “Please forgive me,” she murmured, not sure what she was asking forgiveness for. Bumping into him. Staring. Wondering what he’d look like naked.

Or maybe she was asking forgiveness for what she would do with him if ever given a chance. Because it would be a lot. Everything. She knew it without a doubt.

“Excuse me.”

Her eyelids fluttered as his melted-chocolate voice dripped over her and permeated her insides, heating them, burning. He didn’t smile. Didn’t ask if she was okay. He merely scowled down at her for another few seconds before stepping around her and walking off down the hallway.

Unable to stop herself, Dale watched every elegant step he took. She even went so far as to bring up her shaking hand and pat around until she found Erika’s mouth so she could shut her friend up and enjoy the view until he disappeared around the corner.

She pulled a hot breath into her lungs and fanned herself as she released Erika’s mouth. “What. Was. That?” she enquired as reaction began to set in.

“That, you idiot, was Farah’s brother-in-law,” Erika hissed.

Her head snapped to the side. “Whaaaa?” she mouthed. Holy fuck. That was Lukas Zavrazin?

No one spoke about it openly—would never be so stupid—but they were all aware Farah’s husband, Samuel, and his brother, Lukas, were the sons of Kostya Zavrazin, a suspected Russian mob leader. All you had to do was chat for a few minutes with Samuel, and you couldn’t help but pick up on the you-can’t-touch-me vibe. One look at his bodyguards and friends and you’d know; mafia.

Dale stumbled when Erika snatched her arm and pulled her along to the busy staff dressing room. Erika was talking, but Dale wasn’t tracking. She felt funny. As if she’d been struck by lightning. She was dizzy. Feverish. Felt like steam was still billowing from select areas of her body. Her muscles were quivering, and her knees were shaking.

“Dale, are you okay?”

She blinked as Erika gently shoved her into a plush chair. “Did you smell him?” she murmured. “Is that what money smells like?” No. It had been too…natural. Criminal activity, maybe? Had the guy ever killed anyone? Was he into drugs? Prostitution? She tossed that one out of her head because it pissed her off. Was he an arms dealer? Into gambling?

She was pretty sure that covered what people like her thought the mafia was into.

“Smell who?” Elaine asked as she sailed by on a cloud of sweet perfume mixed with baby powder. Dale hated Elaine something fierce. Okay. She didn’t. She liked her almost as much as she liked Erika. But she did feel viciously jealous whenever she walked by the tall blonde’s locker and saw all the photos of Elaine’s six-month-old baby boy.

“Probably Kong,” Rachel drawled as she teetered by on heels that must cramp her calves something crazy. “I swear, for an ape, the man has the scent of an angel.”

“Kong is no angel.” Paula and Peyton, a stunning set of twins, came over to grab two bottles of Perrier from the tray of refreshments and snacks that were left in the dressing room every night by management. They bent and pursed their lips in the mirror before taking turns talking.

“He’s a demon.” Paula.

“We’ve had him.” Peyton.

“Will never forget the bruises.” Paula.

“He tossed us around like filthy little rag dolls.” Peyton.

“It was incredible.” Both of them.

“He stares at your ass all the time, Dale. You should try him.” Paula.

Dale couldn’t help but grin as she silently passed.

It was then Farah Zavrazin stuck her head in the doorway. Their boss had either hit thirty or was knocking on the door, but it made no difference in her looks. The woman was super beautiful, and she had a positive vibe Dale found irresistible. “Hi, girls!” Her long auburn hair was up in a stylish twist and her makeup, as always, was perfectly applied. “Dale? My husband wants to see you at the bar. Don’t keep him waiting.” She disappeared, but not before Dale saw it looked as if she’d been crying.

“Fuck.” Dale looked up at Erika to see worried eyes already staring down at her. “What happened? What did I do? Did I say something insulting to Mr. Smells Amazing?”

Erika shrugged and pulled her up. “Go. He’s waiting.”

Without removing her trench, Dale nodded and rushed out only to nearly ram headlong into Kong. “Ready?”

“You’re here for me?”

Without answering, he turned and started walking. She followed.

Fuuuck. “Any idea what he wants, Kong? Am I in trouble for something?” What the hell it could be she had no idea. She’d been at the club for almost a year, and she’d never even been late let alone missed a shift for any reason. She didn’t steal. Didn’t fuck customers. Didn’t flirt or anything because most of the guys who frequented the place were self-entitled trust-fund babies who thought they could buy anything from the drinks to the servers. The other portion of the clientele were Samuel’s friends and associates. When she dealt with them, she kept her ears closed, her eyes down, and her smile always in place.

“He’ll let you know.” Kong didn’t turn his head to give her anything resembling a reassuring look.

Stupid of her to ask. These guys weren’t into social chit-chat, which made for a quiet walk into the spacious club that was abuzz with activity. Staff were wiping down already clean tables, vacuuming the black carpet under the closed-off VIP booths, polishing the mirrors and framed prints of artistically posed body parts that were essentially tasteful porn.

They came to a stop at the end of the main bar—there were two secondary bars in opposite corners—where Samuel Zavrazin was sitting with three distinguished looking men. His brother wasn’t one of them, which was as much of a bummer as it was a good thing.

Despite the tension she felt surrounding the men, or maybe because of it, Dale’s work mask slid firmly into place. “Good evening, Samuel. Gentlemen,” she greeted, giving each of them a cursory glance that took in only the basics.

The handsome older one wore an expensive navy suit and was probably in his early forties. He gave her a nod and a not-quite-there smile that was still pleasant and left her feeling safe.

The second wasn’t so good-looking but wasn’t ugly. Until you looked into his eyes. She forced herself to remain still through a shiver that made the hair on her arms stand up. The guy’s vibe wasn’t just dark. It was black, and she felt an urgent need to get the hell away from him.

The feeling of safety came back when she got to the third man. Handsome as hell with a cocky arrogance to match, he looked her up and down with a practiced eye. Then he had the nerve to nod before bringing his attention back to the phone he’d been scrolling through as if she’d passed some sort of test.

Flattered?

Affronted?

She went with flattered when she noted his black suit was similar to the one Samuel’s brother had been wearing, only this guy with his precisely trimmed goatee, silver eyes, and pocket square, needed to upsize because he had to be about six-six or seven. He’d make one beautiful baby, but the woman who carried it had better be a freaking amazon.

“What can I do for you?” she asked Samuel who looked tired. His dark hair was disheveled, but still looked great, and he needed to shave. For the first time in their acquaintance, Dale noticed the color of his eyes. They were the same grey as his brother’s but…were different. Where Lukas’s had appeared cold and blank, Samuel’s held a hint of anger and enough apprehension to make Dale shift on her feet. Maybe he and Farah were having a tiff. That would explain her boss’s tears.

“I need a favor.”

One she wasn’t allowed to refuse? “Of course. I’m at your service.” She kept her smile toned down and tried not to appear over-eager.

“I’m pulling you from the floor schedule and putting you on a private party tonight.”

Excitement buzzed up her spine. The last private function she’d served had sent her home with enough cash to pay off her car. Maybe she could get that hotel room after all. “Yes, sir. How many guests?” Or better yet, she’d squirrel it away and take some extra time off when she needed it.

“Maybe a dozen.”

She could swing that with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back.

“My brother and I are hosting.” He shook his head when one of the bartenders held up a bottle. “I want you to go up early, so I can introduce you to Lukas before the others arrive. But before we do that, I asked you here so you can give me and my friends your word anything that you hear while in that room will be kept strictly confidential.”

A chill swept through her. Tension explained. A private party. His brother. Their friends. Mob.

They were going to talk business with her there…

Was she being invited up only to serve? Or was she going to be reprimanded? Had she somehow insulted Lukas Zavrazin during their brief encounter? Did he need the privacy of an upstairs meeting room to bludgeon her to death?

It wasn’t like she’d hadn’t heard talk of the man. Dressing room gossip said he was handsome—bullshit, he was breathtaking, and she wanted to cover him like a blanket and eat a midnight snack off his wide chest. Always following the sighs about his looks were words like intolerant, harsh, and she’d even heard someone describe him as downright terrifying. Again, bullshit, unless the girl had been terrified of losing her virginity because Dale had also heard the older Zavrazin plowed through women like a shark at feeding time.

Was she insane to want to change her name to Chum and go swimming after dark?

She forgave herself for sounding so slutty and was glad—for other reasons—she’d be meeting Lukas before the meeting. She needed to apologize again for any disrespect she might have shown when they’d collided earlier. Sure, it had merely been a bump in the hallway, but maybe he was a sensitive germaphobe and she’d contaminated him or something. Who knew?

Looking each man in the eye—the pale green ones she skipped over, and the silver ones she was denied because the big guy was lost in his phone, though she could see he was aware of his surroundings—Dale kept her pose relaxed and her smile professional. Which was easy because what she said next was nothing but the truth.

“You have my word, Samuel. I will never leave the premises and discuss issues that don’t concern me. And those that do, they’re my business, and I’ve made it a habit to keep that where it belongs.” She tapped her temple and wondered if she was giving them an idea of where to put the slug.

“Thank you. Maksim? Did you get that?”

The big guy, Maksim, tapped his phone. “Recorded and stored,” he murmured in a faint Russian accent identical to Samuel’s. And Lukas’s?

“Good. Dale Vaner, this is Vasily Tarasov, Sergei Pivchenko, and Maksim Kirov. They’ll be with us upstairs later.”

They all shook hands, and as she listened to Samuel’s unnecessary instructions—stay behind the bar and speak only when spoken to—Dale sent up a prayer begging the good Lord to help her make it through the night. But, because she was proficient at shutting people out and minding her own business, she knew she wouldn’t need much help.

***

Lukas stood alone in his brother’s office, his eyes focused on one of many screens mounted on the wall. His heart was beating hard enough to make his tie jump, and his cock was once more as solid as it had been when he’d walked away from the collision he’d caused twenty minutes ago.

He stepped forward and squinted to try to get a better look at the woman who’d just blown his and Samuel’s plan out of the water. Jet-black hair pinned up in a bun big enough to let him know it was long, sun-kissed skin with not a freckle in sight, and lush, dewy lips that made a man yearn to feel them sucking gently on his tongue.

But it wasn’t the lips holding his attention now. It was the eyes. Every time she blinked those brilliant emeralds, something around Lukas’s goddamn heart chimed like a fucking wedding bell.

Fuck the chubby comedian, he thought again, because his focus had shifted and was now locked on this girl who had to be more than ten years his junior. Probably even a few years younger which would put her around twenty-one or two.

Didn’t matter. It had happened, and no throwaway detail was going to change it.

Unable to keep it in, he shared the life-altering moment with the only person other than his father who might understand how his very world was currently realigning.

“You were right, Mama,” he said in the same clear tone he’d have used if his mother was still alive and sitting behind him. “It is paralyzing. Not terrifying, as you described, but frustrating in the sense that I can’t control it.”

He watched Samuel stand. The girl stepped back and tilted her head to listen to what his brother was saying. She responded with something, and Lukas wished he could hear the melodic tone that had feathered into his ears as she’d laughed and apologized for his boorish entrance into the corridor earlier.

The longer he watched, the more he became aware of an unfamiliar pressure building in his chest. It got worse when she smiled and flashed a set of brilliant white teeth. Was that a dimple? He had a burning need to know.

“Move out of her space,” he whispered.

Hearing himself, hearing the threat that had been in his tone, and seeing Farah’s pretty face flash by on another screen as she prepared to open for the night, had Lukas stepping back. What the fuck was he saying? As if Samuel would ever stray from his wife. There weren’t many sure things in life, but his brother’s fidelity was something he’d bet his future children’s lives on.

The children who would be a combination of Lukas and this nameless beauty who’d just done the impossible. She’d captured him with an easy laugh and a sweetly offered apology given when she hadn’t been at fault. She’d looked into his eyes and had forged a connection with his goddamn soul. One he could feel strengthening as he stood there with something primitive demanding her presence at his side.

For the first time, Lukas understood why Samuel had carved out a place for Farah at the club. He hadn’t wanted to spend his working hours away from the love of his life. He understood why his father had always taken so much trouble to ensure his wife traveled with him, even if he was only going away overnight. He understood, too, why his parents had never been further than a few feet apart when they’d been in the same room together.

And Lukas completely understood what his father had meant when he’d said it had taken only one look for him to know Leane Bernard, a French student visiting Russia, was the one. Just a look.

Watching the girl leave his brother, he noted how Vasily nodded a polite goodbye. Sergei was staring at the floor and didn’t seem to notice her departure—imbecile. Maksim watched her legs do their thing until she was no longer visible, then he said something to Samuel that left them both smiling. Lukas wanted to go downstairs and smash their fucking heads together.

He distracted himself from such a dangerous move by thinking about the surprise-turned-fascination that had come over the girl’s face when she’d looked up at him. Her scent, fuck. It was as if she’d just sucked on a strawberry and cream lollipop and had wanted to share the sweet decadence with those around her. If he’d been able to react as he usually did when coming across a woman he found attractive, he’d have made some excuse to linger. To take in more. To fill his lungs and memorize the very essence of her until he was sure he’d be able to scent her out in a room of thousands.

“She exists, Mama.” He was already getting used to the idea. “Just like you said. I hope you can forgive me for having my doubts.”

And he hoped Samuel and his father would forgive him for booting the chubby comedian out to make room for the woman he would bring into their family with the same pride and ownership Samuel had shown the day he’d carried Farah over the threshold and into their lives.