he walked away after having built his own empire, he'd be number two.

"You're your dad's boss?" She blinked.

"Yes." Father had never been interested in heading up the business, content to play a quiet support role with all the monetary perks and none of the power.

That was bullshit thinking. Although the monetary perks were nice, power and control were everything.

"You're the bossiest man I know." She didn't say it like it was a bad thing.

"I'm the only man you'll ever know, Brat." He examined her under lowered eyelids, feeling drowsy, having been sated sexually. By her. Her third time.

She was worthy of him. She still wasn't that pretty, even cleaned up, but she was intelligent and strong. Once she learned to respect him, she'd do as a fiancee, temporarily or perhaps longer. He stared at the wet spot over her right nipple. She'd do very nicely.

Three

"A strong woman is a man's best asset."ȄSergei Kaerta Nik was going to throttle the brat. He sent her to one of the classiest boutiques in town and she came back looking like a prep boy's porn fantasy.

She sat perched in front of the slot machine in a white shirt, knotted at the stomach, thigh length plaid pleated skirt, socks up to her knees, shiny black flat shoes. Even her frizzy hair was pulled back high in a ponytail. With her tiny frame, she could pass for fourteen, making him feel like some dirty old man.

"Nikky." When her face lit up like that, he felt even dirtier.

"Interesting outfit, Brat." He ignored Boris, the bodyguard seated next to her, and kissed Tatyana. She was his fiancee. People expected him to kiss her.

A blue-haired woman hissed beside them. Perhaps not all people. Damn the brat.

"I thought you'd like it." A twinkle sparked in her mud green eyes.

He lowered his voice, placing a hand on her waist. "I'll express how much I like it later. In private." Somewhere soundproof where he could yell to his heart's content.

Her face softened and his anger flashed to passion. Passion he also couldn't indulge in. His parents waited in the reserved private room. "You ready?" There was only five cents left on the penny slots. It wasn't worth redeeming.

"I blew two more of your dollars, I'm afraid." She frowned.

"No one wins at slots." Not over the long run, the machines rigged in the house's favor.

"But she didn't win once, Boss," Boris added, bumping up Nik's irritation to a whole new level. He'd have to be replaced. Nik didn't want intrusions into their private conversations, a bodyguard to be seen, not heard. "Not once."

"Impossible." Slots were designed to give a little back at random intervals. That kept people playing.

"I never win, Nikky, never."

Again with the Nikky. He'd have to talk to her about that also. It wasn't dignified. "Then the machine is broken." It was the only acceptable explanation. "Boris, take care of it." The extra protection was unnecessary in the restaurant. Nik pulled Tatyana to her feet, the skirt flipping up, giving him a tantalizing peek at white cotton panties.

"Yes, Boss." The man shifted over, reaching for the spin button.

They were only two steps away when the machine paid off, lights flashing, bells sounding.

"Machine's not broken, Boss."

The brat laughed. Nik didn't acknowledge the bodyguard, but continued to walk. She never won, she'd said. Never. He, the second-in-line to lead a gambling empire, was engaged to a bad luck charm.

"The ribbon is to keep it on." Tatyana leaned closer, her hand in Mrs. Kaerta's, the ring examined by the woman's scrutinizing eye. "It's a bit loose and Nikky says it has to be resized, but I won't let him take it. Not yet."

"Nikky," his mom repeated with wonder.

Tatyana moved her finger, admiring the way the ruby flashed. Not all Russian men gave engagement rings. She was glad Nikky did. She liked having proof she belonged. "It is a symbol of our love." She smiled cheerily at Nikky. He glowered back. It was sinfully easy to provoke his temper.

The schoolgirl outfit provided instant results, his insistence on treating her like a brainless child the inspiration behind it.

"That's very romantic, daughter." Mrs. Kaerta had asked to call her that, daughter. Tatyana liked it. It made her feel like part of a family. A family she was going to kill but... She pushed that thought aside.

"That's Nikky, romantic. When he proposed, it was so romantic, I cried." She ratcheted up the drama. "I felt embarrassed until I saw he was crying, too."

A growl rumbled across the table. "Tatyana,"

"He cried?" Brown eyes so like Nikky's widened. "Nikolay hasn't cried in..." A pause as though his mom couldn't remember.

"Son?" The dad, a quiet, unassuming man, raised a gray sprinkled dark eyebrow. He wasn't as bossy as his son and father, but there were similarities between them. Like the eyebrow lifting. That Kaerta mannerism was extremely arrogant, yet so very effective.

"I didn't cry," Nikky bit out.

"Oops." Tatyana brought a hand to her mouth to cover her smile. "I wasn't supposed to share that," she whispered. "Don't be mad at me, Nikky." Tatyana looked around the table, ensuring she had his parents' full attention. "He wasn't crying. He had something in his eye." She winked.

"Enough, Tatyana," he said with a pointed glare. "My parents can be trusted never to repeat anything said at this table."

He really was the bossiest man she'd ever met, bossing around his own parents. "Then, you won't beat me?" she delivered with the exact right amount of emotion.

There was a sharp intake of breath from his mom. "Nikolay would never hurt a woman."

"There's always the first time." Nikky's smile held no humor.

"Nikolay!"

"Oh, no, Momma Kaerta," Tatyana rushed to reassure her. "I was only teasing. Nikky treats me like a princess." She watched out of the corner of her eye as the tension eased from Nikky's body. "In fact, he bought this outfit for me." The tension returned. "Do you like it?"

"Tatyana!"

Poor Nikky. She chuckled quietly. He shouldn't have assured her of his parents' discretion.

It

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