“They’re too hot.”
He plops a container of organic strawberries in front of me. “Snack on these. I already washed them.”
Damn. Ravil is sweet. Sweeter than I want him to be. I could get used to being treated like that. And where would that get me? I’m not staying here permanently—that idea is ludicrous. Ravil doesn’t get to kidnap a woman and keep her.
But would it be so bad? a little voice in my head whispers.
Yes! It would. I bite into a juicy strawberry, savoring the taste. I’ve never sampled one so juicy, so sweet. Or is that my senses are all heightened from the sex and the physical pleasures Ravil constantly throws at me?
“What else do you want?” Ravil asks. “You don’t have to eat perogies, I just wanted them on hand if you craved them again.”
“I want perogies.”
“I guess there’s no doubt that our baby’s Russian, ah?” Maxim says, wandering into the kitchen. He grabs a perogie and bites into it, then exclaims and opens his mouth, panting. “Hot!”
“You should’ve warned him,” I scold.
“He should’ve obeyed my order not to touch them,” Ravil counters.
“Cocksucker,” Maxim mutters, but it’s obviously with affection.
Oleg gets up from his chair in the living room and walks to the door.
“Where are you going, Oleg?” Ravil asks, even though he can’t speak.
“It’s Saturday night,” Maxim reminds him.
Ravil looks blank.
“He goes to that club to listen to music on Saturdays.”
Oleg lifts a hand to wave goodbye and walks out.
Maxim says, “There’s a girl.”
Ravil’s brows shoot up. “Oleg goes to a club to meet a girl?”
Maxim shrugs. “To see a girl. She’s the lead singer of the band. He has a thing for her.”
Ravil shares a who knew? look with me, as if I know Oleg well enough to be as surprised as he is.
“He has a big thing for her,” Maxim says, waggling his brows.
“So you’ve met her? What’s the story?”
“Well, I went with him once to see where he was going every Saturday. And that’s when I saw. She knows he comes to see her and flirts up a storm with him.”
Ravil cocks his head. “Huh. I’m having a hard time picturing it.”
“You’ll have to see it for yourself. Maybe you can help him ask her out.”
“Why didn’t you?” Ravil demands.
“Because he acted like he was going to knock my teeth out if I pushed. But with you, it might be different.” Maxim’s phone rings, and he looks at the screen. “Ugh. It’s Igor.”
Ravil sends him some sort of meaningful look.
Maxim holds the phone, looking at the screen.
“Are you going to answer it?”
Maxim says something in Russian that sounds like a swear. “No.”
“The man is dying, and you won’t take his call?”
Maxim waits until the phone stops ringing then tucks it into his pocket, his shoulders sagging. “He wants me to come back to Russia.”
“To take his place?”
“Fuck if I know, but there’s no way I’m going. I prefer it here. With you.” He elbows Ravil who rolls his eyes.
Ravil’s phone starts ringing. He looks at the screen and sighs. “Igor.” He points a finger at Maxim. “You’re the cocksucker.” He answers the call in Russian. His voice grows gentle, and I realize they weren’t being figurative about the man dying. Ravil speaks as if he’s soothing the man.
“Who’s Igor?” I whisper.
“The bratva boss in Moscow,” Maxim says in a low voice. “He has pancreatic cancer. Everyone’s jockeying to take his place.” He holds his hands up. “But not me. You couldn’t pay me enough to move back and run the show there.”
“Is he Ravil’s boss?” I try not to sound too interested. Or that my interest is more than mere curiosity.
Maxim gives a casual shrug. “Da. But he won’t be called back because he’s done so well here. Our real estate mogul owns six buildings here.”
Ravil hangs up and looks at Maxim. “You’re in luck. He’s already named Vladimir as his successor. There will be challenges, but none of that concerns us.”
“So why does he want me out there? I’m not going to play advisor to Vladamir. That rat doesn’t deserve my strategies.”
“He said he wants to give you something before he dies. In person. It sounds like it’s very important to him. Get on a fucking plane tomorrow, I don’t think he’ll last much longer.”
Maxim scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “Fine.”
“And call him the fuck back. I told him you were in the shower.”
“The shower? Really? That was the best you could come up with?”
Ravil smirks. “Call him, mudak.”
“Oh that’s cute. Are you cursing in Russian so you won’t offend the lady?”
“Get out of the kitchen.”
Maxim’s hand shoots out, and he snags another perogie before Ravil gives his backside a shove with his foot.
I reach for a perogie and bite into the meat and potato goodness.
Maxim steps into the living room and uses his phone.
“Mmm. Do you think it really is Benjamin who loves perogies?”
Ravil gazes at me fondly. “I think you both will always like them.”
Something light flutters in my chest. The idea of always. And our baby Benjamin. And Ravil looking at us both the way he looks at me now.
Chapter 14
Ravil
A week later, I watch Lucy slice through the water, her body lit only by moonlight. She’s spectacular—a clear, concise, strong swimmer. I imagine she swims the same way she does everything. With attention to detail and little extraneous noise.
She woke at midnight to pee and then stood at the great window staring out at the moon and the water. When I asked if she wanted to bathe in the moonlight, she said yes. She didn’t even bother with a swimsuit, which means I’m now harder than stone watching her. After exactly ten laps, she swims to the edge where I sit with my feet in the pool.
Water droplets run down her smooth porcelain skin. “Ravil?”
“Da?”
“How did you get into the bratva?”
I dip my hand in the water to cup her heavy breast. “The bratva found me on the streets of Leningrad when I was
