A Very Russian Christmas (18 page)

A Bright, New Beginning

SERGEI

The night after Christmas, Sergei Sakharov leaned back against a wall, crossed his arms and kept a close eye on Vivian Valero. All around him, the VIP guests at Houston’s hottest nightspot milled and jostled. Tonight, Faze was on fire. Yuri Novakovsky, the Russian oligarch who owned the club, had discovered the perfect mix of ambience, music and drink specials to keep the bouncers out front busy.

While he wasn’t thrilled with his glorified babysitting duties, Sergei understood that the job had been given to him because Nikolai trusted him without reservation. The boss had made it perfectly clear that the threat to Vivian was very real and extremely dangerous. With her father out of the pen on early release and in the custody of the U.S. Marshals, it was only a matter of time before her old man’s outlaw motorcycle crew or the hit squad from the Guzman cartel came calling.

Scanning the VIP section, Sergei made note of the two men coming up the stairs. The bouncer stationed at the entrance to the exclusive enclave checked the men over before letting them pass. Sergei gave them a thorough once-over before turning his attention back to Vivian. Here, surrounded by athletes, musicians and Houston’s trust fund babies, she was relatively safe. Neither the motorcycle club nor the cartel would ever dare to touch her where there were so many witnesses.

Later, when they were alone in his SUV, an attack was within the realm of possibility. Three-Fingered Arty and his small crew of soldiers had shadowed them tonight. Sergei remained in contact with the captain via text message. When it was time to leave, Arty and his men would follow a few car lengths behind, just in case. Nikolai didn’t want Vivian upset or worried by a heavy presence of guards so he had arranged a low-profile escort to ensure the right amount of manpower was available if the worst happened.

Certain Vivian was safe for now, Sergei allowed his gaze to slide over to that staggeringly gorgeous friend of hers.
Bianca Bradshaw.
He committed her name to memory and tried to burn the details of her into his mind. This was a woman who would star in his dreams and fantasies.

The dark-skinned beauty laughed as she waited near the bar for another cocktail. Her warm brown skin and curly hair called to him. He had never dated a girl like Bianca. Blondes and redheads had always been his go-to type, but when Bianca had entered the restaurant earlier that evening, he had become instantly aware of her. Even before he had learned she was Vivian’s friend, he had been planning to introduce himself and chat her up. Bianca was one-of-a-kind, and he hoped to get to know her very well.

His stomach somersaulted when she glanced his way and flashed him a pretty smile. That deep berry lipstick she wore had just a little shine to it. He couldn’t stop looking at that pouty, sensual mouth of hers and wondering what it would be like to kiss her. One kiss wouldn’t be enough. He sensed she would be utterly intoxicating.

His gaze roamed her lush body. She wasn’t very tall, but she had a thick body that provoked such a strong, lustful response. That gold dress hugged her curves so perfectly, highlighting her generous breasts and an ass that made him want to drop to his knees so he could worship her the way she deserved. He couldn’t help but imagine her naked in his bed. Would she purr when he stroked between her thighs? Would she cry out his name when he thrust deep into the slick feminine core of her?

Eyes closing briefly, he could almost feel her wet, hot pussy squeezing his cock. Face hot and ears burning, Sergei tried to get a fucking grip. His surprising reaction to Bianca stunned him. With his larger-than-normal size and good looks, he had never had a problem finding a date. Women came onto him constantly—but none of them made him feel like this.

A couple of guys who weren’t part of the larger group of Vivian’s friends came over to ask the two women to dance. Nikolai hadn’t given him any orders about keeping other men from touching Vivian, but he figured the boss wouldn’t want anyone grinding up against her. Though Nikolai had never come right out and admitted that he was sweet on Vivian, it was clear to anyone who watched them in private moments that love existed between the pair.

Sergei shadowed the two women down to the main floor, just in case. Besides, that blond-haired prick with his hand on Bianca’s back would do well to keep it there. If the other man dared to let that hand slide any lower, Sergei wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself. Jealousy darted through his gut, and he had to flex his fingers at his sides to keep it in check.

Watching Bianca dance with the other man nearly drove him insane. She moved with such lithe grace. Unlike some of the women around her who were rocking against their dates in the most outrageous ways, Bianca kept a respectable amount of distance between her and the man who had asked her to dance. The guy tried to rub up against her ass once, but she shook her head and gave him a slight shove back.

Sergei’s mouth curved with a proud smile at the way she enforced her personal boundaries. He liked a strong woman, and Bianca definitely fit that description. Classy, beautiful and independent, she was exactly the sort of woman he wanted.

During the night, he had overhead enough of her conversations with Vivian to know that Bianca was so far out of his league that he had absolutely no chance with her—but he couldn’t kill the hope clinging to life within him. She ran her family’s wedding boutique, designed bridal gowns and had attended one of the most prestigious fashion schools in the world. In stark contrast, Sergei now worked as an enforcer for a mob boss and fought in the underground bare-knuckle tournaments for the crime family that owned him.

A glimmer of resentment rippled through him as he considered how life might have been different if his older brother hadn’t fucked things up so massively. He wouldn’t be indebted to the Prokhorov crime family. He wouldn’t be forced to pay off his debts by fighting and enforcing and doing all the terrible things that Nikolai required of him. He could have been an architect instead of taking a cut of one of the legit construction businesses his boss owned.

But if his brother hadn’t done those stupid things, Sergei wouldn’t have been here in Houston, and he never would have crossed paths with Bianca Bradshaw.

Conflicted and wondering what the future held in store for him, Sergei watched the guy dancing with Vivian. He recognized the way the man was trying to separate her from Bianca. Sergei had used a similar move many times in the past when he was dancing with a woman who was giving him all the right signals, but Vivian wasn’t giving out those signals. She offered her dance partner a timid smile and tried to move closer to Bianca, but the man blocked her attempt and edged her back toward a dark corner.

Sergei hesitated only long enough to see if Vivian could handle the situation herself. While the boss was incredibly protective of her, Sergei chose to give her some space whenever possible.

Right now, it wasn’t possible. She put both hands on the guy’s chest, but he wouldn’t budge. When he swooped down to kiss her, Vivian turned her head—and Sergei pounced. Gripping the man’s shoulder, he spun him around and gave the creep a slight shove. “She said no.”

The guy sized him up and smartly decided not to push his luck. “Yeah. Okay.” He held up both hands and shrugged at Vivian. “Sorry. I thought we had something going.”

“It’s okay.” She offered him a smile, and the guy disappeared into the crowd.

Sergei bent down so he wouldn’t have to shout at her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you. I just—um—I guess I was sending out the wrong signals.”

“I think your signals were clear. His radar is fucked.”

Grinning, she patted his arm before taking Bianca’s outstretched hand and following her friend back up to the VIP area. The blond who had been dancing with Bianca started to follow, but Sergei put his hand on the man’s chest and shook his head. “Find some other girls. These two are mine.”

They weren’t, but the blond didn’t know that and he sure as hell didn’t question it. Back upstairs with Vivian and Bianca, Sergei made sure they were comfortable and surrounded by their friends before taking up a position between the main access point and the woman he had promised to protect. The night continued without another incident. The girls danced, had a few drinks and chatted with their friends.

After a fight broke out on the dance floor, Sergei decided it was time to get Vivian and her friend home. He grabbed their coats and purses from their hostess and approached the two women with a no-nonsense look on his face to discourage any whining or attempts at manipulating him to let them stay longer.

“Okay, ladies, it’s time to go.”

Vivian sighed dramatically and snatched her purse from him. “Fine.”

He tucked Bianca’s purse and coat under his arm and helped Vivian into hers. When he shook out Bianca’s coat, she gave him a strange look but turned her back and let him drape it across her shoulders. She was so close now that he caught the delicious scent wafting from her. He inhaled her flirty, feminine smell and tried to memorize the faint notes of it.

As soon as her arms were through the sleeves, Bianca hastily moved away from him and shot him a wary look. The unease in her dark eyes cut him deeply. While he wasn’t employed in the most respectable way, he wasn’t a bad person. He hated that she judged him for
what
he was instead of
who
he was.

Ignoring the pain of her rejection, he flicked his fingers. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”

Bianca shook her head. “I’ll get a cab.

He wasn’t about to let her take a taxi. Anything could happen to her if she was alone in some strange man’s car. “It’s cold and late. You’ll come with us.”

Upon hearing his order, Bianca cast a look Vivian’s way. “Are they always bossy like this?”

Vivian smiled up at him. “He’s pretty tame compared to some others.”

In fact, Vivian was dead wrong. The dominant, alpha streak within him was one he had tried to suppress as a younger man but one he fully embraced now. He understood that his need to care for his woman, to protect her and provide for her, was as innately necessary to him as breathing.

Bianca tugged her purse from his grasp. “Well—let’s go Hulk. Take me home.”

Oh, he wanted to do more than just take her home. He started to come onto her but thought better of it. Something told him she wouldn’t appreciate it. Bianca was the sort of woman who required a more subtle approach.

With his wide shoulders and intimidating size, he led the women through the crowd and out of the club. He helped them inside his SUV, Vivian in the front passenger seat and Bianca in the row behind her friend. He blasted the heater for them and switched on the windshield wipers as a misty haze of wintry precipitation began to fall.

As they pulled out of the Faze parking lot, Vivian typed Bianca’s address into the GPS. Later, when he was alone, he would write it down and slip the paper into his wallet. He acknowledged the move verged on stalker territory, but he wanted to know everything about this girl. He recognized the area on the map. It was a historical section of the city not far from the mansion that Nikolai had restored.

The light haze turned to a drizzle. Mindful of the nasty weather and his precious cargo, Sergei drove carefully. When his phone started to ring, he tugged it out of his pocket, but Vivian swiped it. He tried to snatch it back, but she slapped his hand. “You can’t talk and drive!”

“Children, do we need to pull over?” Bianca asked from the backseat, her voice laced with amusement.

He glanced at her reflection in the rear view mirror. Her infectious smile made his heart do a wild flip. God, what he wouldn’t give to see that smile peeking up at him every morning when he rolled over in bed.

“Hello?” Vivian answered his phone and instantly switched to Russian. “Calm down. He’s driving. We’re taking my friend home.”

Sergei could just make out the sound of Nikolai’s voice. The boss sounded aggravated. That didn’t bode well for his night.

“What’s wrong?” Vivian listened intently and spoke softly. “It’s not your fault.”

Not his fault? What in the hell had happened now?

“I’ll see you in fifteen minutes or so.” She ended the call and met his questioning gaze. “Someone vandalized my studio. Nikolai wants you to bring me there.”

Sergei tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He had been hoping to get a good night’s rest before heading to the gym but he had a bad feeling he was going to be up all night—and not in the way he enjoyed best. No doubt, his fists would be called into service by the boss. “Yeah. Okay.”

Bianca leaned forward. “Um, what’s going on?” She pointed to herself. “Doesn’t speak Russian, remember?”

Sergei felt bad that he had forgotten Bianca couldn’t understand. Vivian smiled apologetically at her friend. “Sorry! There was some vandalism at my studio.”

“Oh no! What about your paintings? Oh, I hope they’re all okay. Do you want me to come with you?”

He liked the way Bianca instantly supported her friend. Her loyalty and concern showed what a kind heart she possessed.

“No, this is probably going to keep me up all night. You have brides coming for their last-minute fittings tomorrow.” Vivian reached back and squeezed her friend’s hand. “But I really appreciate the offer.”

In no time at all, they were driving down Bianca’s street. He pulled up in front of her house and cast a scrutinizing gaze toward the Queen Anne. Even in the dark, he could tell the house needed a new roof. He assumed the paint looked pretty bad in the light of day. The cosmetic issues aside, the home seemed to be in pretty solid shape.