Her Russian Brute: 50 Loving States, Idaho (22 page)

“Fine,” she said. “May I go now?”

“No, not yet. Your hair…”

She touched her straightened locks. “You want me to at least bring a flat iron, so I can keep it like this?”

“No,” he said. “I want it to be curly the next time I see you. I do not like it this way.”

She started to tell him she didn’t usually wear it down like this. She had straightened it for Layla’s wedding just for fun and, of course, she’d been ambushed by little old black ladies before she got on the plane. But then she remembered who she was talking to and just went with another “Fine.”

“And when was your last STD test?”

Her cheeks warmed. She wasn’t about to tell him how low-action her life had been in the sex department since leaving him. Drummond was small and her job and motherhood took up a lot of her time. So even if there was a great guy dying to date an overworked single mother, she hadn’t had time to find him. “My last physical was in May, and all my blood work came back clean. But the last time I saw you, you were keeping company with Ms. Threesome, so I’m thinking condoms are in order.”

“I will get the necessary tests before our excursion, but I assure you I am clean as well.”

“How about birth control? I’m on the pill, but I’d rather use condoms just to make sure.” She didn’t add that she’d been on birth control eight years ago, and apparently that hadn’t been enough to prevent her from getting pregnant with Aaron.

“There is no need to worry about this. I received a vasectomy a few years ago to prevent this from happening.”

Eva nearly choked on her own breath. “I always knew you were anti having kids. But I thought maybe one day you might change your mind.”

“I did not,” he said, his eyes going distant like they used to when there was a subject he’d rather not talk about. “The point is there will be nothing between us.”

He gave her a heated look. “The next time I see you, I will be clothed, but you will be completely naked, except for a bow in your hair, which will signify you are a gift, sent to this Russian, courtesy of your beloved town of Drummond. You will open your legs wide to me, and there will be nothing between us when I enter you. After that, I will fuck you and you will welcome every thrust until we both come with me buried deep of inside of you. “

He let his words sink in for a few seconds before saying,
“Now you may go.
”

She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until he dismissed her, and even then she didn’t move to leave right away. His words had made her so wet she was half-afraid she’d squish if she dared to stand up. Back when they’d been together, Alexei had often made it hard for her to cover her true feelings with jokes, and it looked like he was still in possession of this particular talent. For several moments, she just sat there feeling rattled to her core, both hot with lust and cold with dread.

But eventually, she managed to pull herself together and rise from her seat. On shaky legs, she picked her way to the door in the ridiculous stilettos. But just as she put her hand on the glass handle, he said, “Eva, one more thing…”

When she turned back to face him, his expression, which had been so heated just a moment ago, visibly cooled. “Say hello to your father for me.”

T
HE only good
thing Eva could say about her trip to New York was it really didn’t take that long. Thanks to the convenience of Alexei’s on-call jet, she was back in front of the computer in her den in time to Skype with Aaron in Italy.

His toddler twin girl cousins had been running him ragged all summer, and he looked tired and happy as he described his heroic efforts at keeping the twins out of the kitchen while Steve’s wife, Maria, made pasta from scratch.

“It was really good, Mama. You think we can get Grandma to make it like that?”

“No,” her mother called from the family room, shameless in her eavesdropping. “I’m not going to be fussing around with dough for hours when I can just throw the boxed kind in a pot and call it a day. That’s good enough for this family.”

“Sorry, sweetness.” Eva tossed him an apologetic look through the computer.

“That’s okay,” Aaron said, even though he looked disappointed.

She felt terrible. This was yet another reason she had grown tired of living with her parents. At first it seemed like a great idea, since the house was so big, and she could use the money she saved in rent for Aaron’s college fund and the vacation they took every year. But for Eva, who had learned to enjoy cooking before she moved back in, the culinary situation had grown untenable. Her mother didn’t welcome anything more adventurous than Chinese takeout at their dinner table. Plus, she ruled the house kitchen with an iron fist, so Eva wouldn’t be able to make fresh pasta herself even if they had the right tools.

She would move out, she decided with sudden conviction. After she was done jumping through Alexei’s hoops, they would move somewhere and make a new start. And she’d make him fresh pasta or whatever his little heart desired at least once a week.

On the other side of the computer screen, Aaron yawned. “We’re leaving to go to Disneyland Paris tomorrow. Uncle Steve said I have go to bed early.”

“That’s very practical of your Uncle Steve,” she said. “But before you go, I just wanted you to know I won’t be able to Skype with you when you get back. I’m going on vacation, and I’m not sure how much computer access I’ll have.”

Aaron sat up, his eyes narrowing in that way that made him look so much like his father. “You, Grandpa, and Grandma are going on vacation somewhere?” He sounded suspicious, as he should, since during the course of his young life, his grandfather had never taken a non-working vacation much less one with Eva in tow.

“Auntie Layla’s husband is really busy right now, so we decided to take a vacation to the Bahamas, just the two of us.” She hated to lie to him, but this was the most plausible excuse she could come up with to explain why she wouldn’t be available by computer for the next two weeks.

The suspicious squint disappeared and he nodded. “Okay, that’s good. I like Auntie Layla.”

“I know you do,” she said, laughing. Layla had been Aaron’s go-to babysitter for those first couple of years before her father had forgiven her enough to let her move back home. And after that, she and Aaron had taken trips to visit Layla in Dallas at least three times a year, before she moved to Pittsburgh.

She looked at Aaron’s sweet face now, trying to memorize every aspect of it, since she wouldn’t be able to see it for two more weeks. “I know you’ll be good for Uncle Steve and Aunt Maria, and I’ll try to text with you as much as I can.”

“Okay. Have fun. Love you, Mama.” One of the nicer side effects of their summer apart was Aaron had become much more affectionate. She supposed it was all well and good to say you didn’t need your mama, until you got to missing her.

“Love you, too, sweetness.”

And then he was gone, leaving Eva to feel torn between her son and the man who didn’t even know he existed.

“I don’t know why you look so sad,” her mother said, appearing in the doorway to the den. “Nearly brought this town to ruin, now you’re going to up and take a vacation with your girlfriend like lah-dee-dah. “

Even though her mother, Truelle St. James, was thirty years older than Eva, someone might have mistaken them for sisters, if everyone in their small town didn’t already know them as mother and daughter. They shared the same dark chocolate complexion and even had the same body type, though her mother did a lot more to keep her curves hidden, preferring to wear unassuming grey or black dresses to the bright colors Eva favored. Other than that, at first glance, anybody could tell they were related.

However, when they opened their mouths, you knew within fifteen minutes, despite their genetic bond and similar career paths, they were complete opposites. The only thing Truelle enjoyed more than running an organized and efficient house was telling others exactly how they should be living their lives. And she certainly would’ve given Eva a piece of her mind, if she knew who her daughter would really be spending the next two weeks with.

She had a feeling her father and Berta suspected the truth, but they were both sticking to the cover story. As one of the few non-widowed single mothers in town, her father was already embarrassed enough by her. No need to also let everyone know she would be doing “whatever it takes” for the next two weeks in order to keep the Drummond Oil headquarters in their little town.

Truelle came into the room and started reorganizing the desk, starting with straightening the pile of files Eva had brought home with her from the office. “If you ask me, you should stay here to make sure this mess is truly cleaned up like you say it’s supposed to be now. But then again, you have never been the one to clean up your own mess, have you?” She gave the desk she’d just neatened up a pointed look.

And for a moment Eva was almost grateful Alexei had put her in this position, because it meant she’d finally get a break from her mother’s constant criticisms. When she moved back in five years ago, she’d hoped they’d be able to come to terms and mend the fences that had been broken during their estrangement. But over the course of the next half-decade, she’d come to accept her parents didn’t want to forgive her. They had decided a long time ago to stay mad at her for disobeying them and then having the nerve to get pregnant out of wedlock. And nothing she said or did would ever convince them she had changed from the irresponsible girl they’d pegged her as eight years ago.

“Okay, Mama,” she said. “Well, I’ve had a long day and I have a lot to do before I leave on Sunday, so I’m just going to go up to my room now.”

She felt like a teenager again over the next couple of days as she pointedly ignored her mother’s barbs and disapproving looks while also rushing to pack and get two weeks worth of work off her desk before she left. Despite her constant nagging, she actually managed to get everything done and was packed and ready to go by Sunday morning. The only thing was she had no idea where she was going.

Neither Alexei nor anyone associated with him had been in contact with her since she left New York. She supposed she could have looked up the number for his corporation and tried to get Emilio on the line, but then it didn’t really seem right that the onus of showing up for two-week sex slave duty should be on her. However, when she woke on Sunday morning with still no emails or voicemails about where she was supposed to be and when, she began to wonder if Alexei hadn’t been bluffing. Maybe he had never planned to let the Drummond Oil headquarters stay in Texas. Maybe he had just wanted to see if she’d really agree to his proposal.

She shook her head in disgust with herself. How could she have been so naïve? He was a billionaire who dated modelesque women who were always up for threesomes. Why would he choose to spend his two-week vacation with her? Of course he had been messing with her, she decided.

But just as she was about to start unpacking, a knock sounded on the front door. A few seconds later, she opened it to find Emilio on the wrap-around front porch.

“So, I guess this is actually happening then,” she said when she saw him. “I’d half convinced myself he was bluffing.”

“Yeah, if you knew Lex, you’d know once he says something’s happening, it’s happening.”

“So he sent you all the way out here to pick me up? Isn’t that a little below your pay grade?”

If Emilio felt the same way about the situation, he didn’t let it show on his face. “He only sends me on non-business related errands when he wants to make sure they get done to his specifications.”

She was about to ask what exactly Alexei had “specified” for this particular errand, but he beat her to the punch with, “You ready to go?”

“Sure, just let me get my suitcase.”

Emilio shook his head. “Special orders. Nothing bigger than a purse.”

Eva blinked. “Wait, he’s forbidden me to bring a suitcase of my own clothing?”

Emilio looked very uncomfortable now. “Yeah, he has. But if it makes you feel any better, everything you need will be provided for you when you reach your destination.”

That in no way made her feel any better. “I don’t want everything provided for me. I want my own things. I can’t believe this.” But she stopped herself before she could go into full hysterics. It wasn’t Emilio’s fault his boss was a complete dick.

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Let me just get my purse then.”

Less than thirty minutes later, she and Emilio climbed aboard Alexei’s plane.

“You should sit there,” he said, indicating a white leather seat on the left side of the plane, which had a manila folder placed on it.

She picked up the folder and tried to hand it to him. “Is this yours?

Emilio didn’t take it from her. “No, that’s definitely meant for you,” he said, shifting awkwardly before making a big deal of sitting in the seat across from her.

She opened the folder to find a single print-out indicating Alexei Rustanov had been tested for several sexually transmitted diseases, and the reports had all come back clean. Then it was her turn to cover her embarrassment by taking her seat.

Her cheeks were still burning by the time the plane took off. She really couldn’t have been more furious with herself for somehow managing to get re-involved with a man like Alexei Rustanov.

E
VA had thrown
her passport in her purse just in case, but she had expected Alexei’s plane to take her back to New York, where she’d figured he’d hole her up in a penthouse made entirely of glass while he did whatever he wanted to her for the next two weeks. So she was surprised when the plane began to descend just an hour after take off.

She looked out the window and saw a coastal island, which she decided must be South Padre, since there weren’t that many islands located only an hour’s plane ride from Drummond. A few minutes later she found out her guess had been right when a grey-haired limo driver greeted Emilio and she at the bottom of the small plane’s stairs.

“Welcome to South Padre Island, Miss St. James,” the driver said before turning to Emilio and saying, “Welcome back, Mr. Alvarez.”

So Alexei had decided their tryst should go down on Texas largest barrier island? South Padre was a known party destination, a place that attracted mostly college kids on spring break and families who didn’t want to go as far as the Caribbean. She wondered why a billionaire with access to any number of glamorous locales would choose to spend his vacation there.

“Does Alexei spend a lot of time here?” she asked Emilio when they were settled in the back seat of the limo.

“No.” Perhaps sensing she needed it, Emilio poured Eva two fingers of bourbon and handed it to her. “But he does own the resort you’ll be staying at.”

She blinked hard for the second time that day. “Say what now?”

Fifteen minutes later, she received her answer when she stepped out of the limo and saw The R resort. Even though it looked like it had undergone a rather expensive remodel, Eva recognized the location as the old Surfside Hotel, which was where she had been planning to spend Spring Break before her father cut her off. The weekend after that disastrous dinner, she’d not only moved in with Alexei but also called the fellow SSW grad student who had coordinated their trip to South Padre to say she wouldn’t be able to go.

She could still remember Alexei regarding her with mournful eyes when she got off the phone. “I wish to have money for you,” he’d said. “Then I send you on this trip and maybe go with you,
da
? I am sorry I cannot do this. You deserve more.”

She’d masked her disappointment about the trip, which she’d really been looking forward to, and said, “I’d much rather stay here with you for the break, anyway. And nobody really
deserves
a trip to stupid South Padre Island.”

But he shook his head and insisted, “No, one day I will find a way to give this trip back to you. I promise.”

And now he owned the hotel she was originally supposed to stay at.

She craned her neck upward to take in the entire structure. Man, when Alexei decided to show somebody, he really showed them.

Emilio escorted her up the elevator and past two large and burly guards, both sporting shaved heads, to the penthouse suite. The R, a luxury hotel that sat many stories above and far outshined the nearby competition, was owned in-full by the Rustanov Enterprises.

As it turned out, Eva had been right. Alexei had decided to hole her up in his penthouse. Only it was located at the top of this hotel as opposed to in New York. When Emilio showed her into the suite, she could barely believe her eyes. Unlike his office in New York, this space was warm and inviting, decorated in a sumptuous red and gold color scheme that made it feel more like a palace than a room in a hotel known for hosting well-heeled spring breakers. At least half of the penthouse was taken up by a living room, which featured a standard-sized pool, of all things, complete with deck chairs and a small bar. There were also plate glass windows providing a 180-degree unobstructed view of the island. She went to the Texas-facing side of the suite and swore she could see all the way to Corpus Christi.

“Wow,” she said to Emilio as she jogged to take in the view on the other side of the large living room. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hotel room this nice in my whole life.”

“You say that and you have not even seen the bedroom yet,” a male voice said behind her.

She gasped and skidded to a stop before turning around to find Emilio had disappeared. And a very smug Alexei Rustanov had taken his place.

His eyes scanned over her. “You are already in violation of our agreement,” he said, frowning. “You are still clothed and I do not see a bow in your hair.”