He should be exhausted due to his early start. Seven in the fuckin' morning, with her asking twenty questions, chipper as anything. He had to get the brat on Vegas time or he'd end up killing her himself.
"Heard from Boris, Boss." Pavel joined him on his aimless walk.
Boris, Tatyana. "They still at the boutique?" He sent her back for casino appropriate clothes.
Something black, sophisticated, expensive, he told her. That should be specific enough.
"They left there." The big man's mouth worked silently as though he didn't know what to say.
"Spit it out." What was the brat up to now?
"They're performing time trials of different routes between here and Sunrise." Sunrise Medical Center was the nearest emergency room.
Time trials in a limo and, by the way Pavel shifted unhappily, that wasn't it. "What else?"
"Before she left this morning, she asked me to demonstrate how to apply the hemostatic agent." He paused. "She asked specifically if it was effective with B negative blood, Boss."
His blood type. "She's serious." About this death curse of hers. Either it was real or she was crazy. Neither option was good.
"It appears so, Boss."
He wouldn't take any chances. "Warn your team the threat may not come from Chan." They were already on high alert. "And tell Boris to bring her home." His head of security turned to carry out his instructions. "When she returns, she's not to leave again, not unless I'm by her side, understand?"
Pavel paused. "She won't like that, Boss."
"Tough." Pavel was right. She wouldn't like that. Not at all. But this was sure to be a clothes shedding confrontation and the activities afterward should tap some of his excess energy.
There were advantages to having a fiancee.
He said to stay in the hotel room until he came up and got her at nine o'clock. The hell with that. Tatyana was ready early. Sitting on the bed as she waited would add wrinkles to her skin-tight black leather skirt. Wrinkles were not sophisticated. Nikky wanted sophisticated, he'd have to deal with the consequences. And that meant she waited for no man.
Heads swung around as she exited the elevator, Boris at her back. She wasn't interested in any of those gawking lechers. She hadn't dressed like this for them. Tatyana scanned the crowd. Where was the arrogant ass? "Boris?" she asked the bodyguard.
"The VIP room, miss." Boris motioned in that direction.
Of course. Nikky wouldn't be amongst mere mortals. She headed there. Her progress was slow, hampered by the long skirt, the six inch heels, and the leering men in her way.
"Cousin Tatyana." A short, thin stick of a man approached her, arms outstretched. A cousin.
She didn't know which one. Tatyana dutifully kissed his cheeks, replying to his insincere comments, before continuing. The man fell in place beside her, yapping incessantly about how honored he was to work with her fiance. No wonder Nikky had a fat head, pandered to as he was.
An average-sized, round man was next to block her path. Another cousin, equally ambitious, equally annoying. By the time she reached the tables, she was surrounded by them, all pleading their cases, yelping at her heels like a pack of dogs.
How Nikky could stand it, she had no idea. She
wanted to scream in frustration, to tell them to grow spines. She didn't. Instead, she treated them politely, firmly, with the coolness she spent all afternoon perfecting.
For him. The ass. Wherever he was.
"Dear cousin." Stepan, king of the slimeballs, kissed her cheeks. "You are stunning." His hand rested on her waist with a familiarity she didn't like. "Nikolay is a fool to let you out of his sights."
"Nikky is no fool." She pressed her bright red lips together to keep from adding 'you two-faced bastard'. "He knows I," she placed extra emphasis on I, "can be trusted."
"A woman a man can trust." A smarmy smile. "You are a rarity." Laughter rippled through the cousins.
She didn't answer. Instead, she gave him her best 'who the hell are you' look and turned to Boris. "Have him meet us." The crowd around her was unmanageable. She wouldn't make the room before losing her temper. "We'll be at the penny slots."
"We'll be at the craps table, cousin," Stepan overruled her, putting a clammy hand on her bare back. She moved forward instinctively to avoid him.
"I never play without Nikky." She rarely played, period, as she always lost. Tatyana kept that to herself. Gambling was their business.
"Then you won't play, little Tatyana." Stepan was so patronizing. "You'll be my good luck charm."
That's what he thought. This would be a costly lesson for her new cousin. She stifled a smile. "Only if I can roll for you."
A half hour later, even the joy of pushing Stepan into the poorhouse taxed Tatyana's patience. She was about to call it a night and head back to the room when the crowd parted and Nikky stepped forward. Her breath caught. He wasn't the tallest man at the table, there were men taller. He wasn't the broadest, his man Pavel having that honor. But he had a presence that demanded attention.
And he had hers. Completely. She swept a possessive eye over his black suit, his white shirt, the hint of shadow on that chiseled chin, until she reached his eyes. He stared at her, eyes hooded, intent, his reaction was all that she had hoped for. A little bit of anger, a little bit of amusement, a whole lot of arousal. Her nipples hardened. By the way his gaze dropped and his face darkened, she suspected they were clearly visible in the leather halter top.
Breathe. She had to breathe. Tatyana rolled the dice, achingly aware of him as he rounded the table toward her. The crowd groaned, background noise. Ace deuce was called. Craps.
Nikky sliced into the space between her and the cousin, sliding a warm hand down her back. She shivered, turned, her chin
