Dark Russian Angel (A Vancouver Mafia Romance Book 1)

It was almost midnight, and I was still sitting on the couch, pretending to study one of the textbooks from my boxes, when it seemed completely obvious that I was waiting for Andrusha to come home. I had no idea why I waited up for him—except that I didn’t feel safe unless he was around.

Dark eyes met mine when he walked in. He wore a suit and a white dress shirt without a tie. I watched as he walked across the room and lowered himself in the chair across from me. “You’re still up.”

I could see bright red lipstick smeared on the collar of his white shirt. My cheeks burned when I thought about him being with someone else tonight while I waited for him.

“I didn’t realize how late it was,” I lied, instantly feeling transparent. “I should go to bed.”

His eyes narrowed on my face. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” I worked to act normal. “Did you have fun tonight?”

He shrugged. “Not really.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Well, someone did.”

His look sharpened.

I realized I was sliding down a slippery slope, so I enthused a lot of surprised dignity into my voice. Probably too much. “Can’t I ask you about your evening without getting an interrogation?”

His lips curled into a half-smile as he watched me with interest. “Your feathers are getting puffy.”

“They aren’t.” I worked not to smile at his reference. I was glad he was home. With me. No matter who the owner of that lipstick was, he was here with me now. To watch over me. That counted for something.

“Did you find what you were looking for in your boxes?”

“I found my textbooks and some fresh clothes. Thank you.”

“Textbooks? Are you going to tell me what you’re studying?”

“No.”

He looked intrigued. “Why not?”

I thought about how hard I had been trying to learn how to run a business. My dreams felt so far off, it was laughable. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Tell me.”

“I’m taking my fourth business class.” I felt myself flush a hot pink. “Because… I want to open my own dance studio one day.”

Andrusha stared at me without emotion, making me feel stupid for even having a dream.

I lifted my chin in defiance. “You think it’s dumb that I want to run my own business one day.”

“Nope.”

I worked to change the subject. “Where do you go at night?”

“What do you mean?”

“You always leave the apartment to sleep.”

“No, I don’t. I sleep on the couch.”

I looked down at the couch I sat on. It was a strange intimacy to learn he slept near me. Why had he slept, every night, in the same room without telling me? Why hadn’t I sensed it? I was the lightest sleeper in the world, and these days I was jumpier than a cat in water, but somehow my subconscious had determined he wasn’t a threat.

“Maybe I should take the couch, and you can have your bed back.”

“I’m good.”

I wanted to ask him why he was being so nice to me. I believed that he wanted to keep me safe for the sake of the Bunko trial, but it was the other stuff—his kindness in getting my boxes and giving me his bed—that I didn’t understand.

“You don’t need to wait for me to go to sleep before coming to sleep on the couch,” I offered.

He held my gaze. “Yes, I do.”

I forced myself to study the lipstick on his collar. I stood up. “I’m going to bed. Thank you for everything today.”

When I got out of the washroom, he was gone.

I had no idea why Andrusha was being so nice to me, but I couldn’t allow myself to consider the whys. Whenever I thought about him, I trembled. The problem was that the more I got to know him, the more he intimidated me. There was a strength to him that attracted me as much as it scared me. It was like seeing a lion in the wild: at first, you are in awe of their magnificent power, but one day you become aware of how much bigger and stronger they are.

I trusted Andrusha, but he still scared the shit out of me.

You shacked up already? I snapped the covers back as I remembered my mom’s tone, her assumption that I would move in with someone. I looked around the apartment. I was living in Andrusha’s home. He had moved my boxes into his place.

It was an easy assumption to make. You think that he’s some kind of prince who can save you? Who gave a shit what he did for a job? The guy was saving me when no one else in this world, not even the police, could or would. That had to count for something.

And the guy had made zero sexual advances towards me. I wasn’t expecting him to either since he came home with lipstick on his collar. You’d think I’d feel relief that he was seeing other women, instead, the idea just left me feeling vaguely uncertain.

After breakfast, I was coming downstairs with Sasha when below in the bay area, I heard Andrusha talking to two men in Russian. They were obviously in conflict with each other. I slowed my steps, watching as he listened to both sides before speaking to them both. They left, obviously satisfied with his answer.

“What?” he asked, watching me approach.

“Does everyone always do what you tell them?”

He looked amused. “What makes you think I’m telling them what to do?”

“Weren’t you?”

He looked at the textbook in my hand. “How is the studying going?”

“I’m reading about when first-period profits are in excess of their capital cost.”

“Sounds like an interesting course.”

I couldn’t seem to drag my eyes away from his standing form. My eyes seemed glued to his messy hair and curious expression.

Vlad, the grumpy old man, approached us. His eyes burned bright when they saw me. He snapped his fingers and said to me in a harsh tone, “I want a coffee.”

Andrusha turned around and faced Vlad directly. He didn’t look impressed. “What kind of bullshit is this?”

Vlad shrugged. “She should make herself useful.”

Andrusha’s voice was like chilled ice. “How she uses her time is none of your concern.” He looked at me. “Vlad is not thirsty.”

Feeling the tension between the two men, I whistled at Sasha to go outside.

Viktor appeared as I reached the door. “You two heading outside?”

“Just for a couple of minutes.”

He motioned for me to follow him. We stood out in the rare sunshine of October and watched as Sasha sniffed the ground.

Viktor was a hard one to read. He seemed at least as protective as Andrusha, but he was unbelievably respectful, so I couldn’t tell if there was a hidden reason for his willingness to drop whatever he was doing to spend time with me.

I didn’t have enough experience with men, in general, to understand why they did what they did.

I turned and caught him watching me. I gave him a clumsy smile to cover up how tongue-tied his attention made me. He seemed like a nice person, but that was all I could handle.

“How are things going for you here?”

Viktor, along with Andrusha, had seen me at some of my lowest moments—like when they had burst into the hotel room and caught me half-naked getting attacked. But he had been kind about it, never bringing it up or asking about it.

“I have my textbooks. I’m studying for my next class that I want to take in the new year.”

“Oh yeah? What are you studying?”

“One day I’d like to open my own dance studio. I don’t have the money, but when I do, I want to be prepared.”

“You used to be a dancer?”

“Ballet, mostly.”

“Do a dance move for me.”

I shook my head and smiled.

He cajoled me. “One move. Show me what you got.”

I wasn’t warmed up or wearing proper clothes, but I didn’t care. “Take my hand.”

He held out a steady, warm hand. On my good leg, I went up into an attitude derrière, which meant I went en pointe on my good leg and brought my other leg straight up behind me, above my head. I let go of Viktor’s hand and gave him a quick smile as I lifted my hands above my head and stretched out my body.

God, it felt good.

I lifted my face towards the sky and almost lost my balance when I saw Andrusha staring down at me from his office window. His expression was impossible to read.

I dropped into third position. “I don’t really dance anymore.”

Viktor had a stunned look on his face. “You looked beautiful.”

I glanced up again. Andrusha was no longer in the window, making me wonder if I had imagined him. “Being a ballet dancer is no longer a part of my life.”

“It should be.”

I knew we were crossing into dangerous territory here. “I should get back inside.”

I led Sasha up to Andrusha’s apartment and was just getting out Sasha’s food when the door opened without ceremony and Andrusha walked in. He looked intense.

“What were you doing with Viktor?”

I froze at the sound of his commanding voice. “Nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

“He asked me to do a dance move.”

Andrusha stood there and stared at me for a long moment. Like he was assessing me. Not as a victim or something he could protect. No, this was something different. It stilled me, made me watchful and aware. He was looking at me as a woman. A conquest.

“If you’re going to do any dance moves, you can be damn sure you’re going to do them for me.”

My heart pounded in my chest. Andrusha had told me that he wanted to sleep with me, but he had reassured me that he wouldn’t. Was he changing his mind? I had believed his words, but now he stood in front of me and shamelessly staked his claim.

It was probably some weird male territory thing between him and Viktor. It didn’t actually mean he wanted to do anything with me. He just didn’t want me to do anything with anyone else.

Nerves made me speak without thought. “You’re pretty bossy.”

“You don’t know the half of that statement,” he shot back.

Feeling overwhelmed by his intensity, I half rolled my eyes and turned away.

He moved so fast that it defied reason. One second I was walking away from him, and the next, he had me pinned against the wall with his big hand around my throat. I wheezed, and my chest rose and fell in alarm as he watched my reaction.

He leaned forward, bending down so his mouth was against my ear. “I’m not a nice man. I like things that you can’t handle. Don’t tempt me.”

“How am I tempting you?” I gasped, aware of so many things in that moment. How his big hand was around my throat, yet his tight grip didn’t hurt me. He stood so close, towering over me like some sort of predator. He smelled like a man, not a boy. I could sense his strength and something else, something I knew was too powerful for me to handle.

My eyes widened as he pulled his head back and lifted his other hand to gently push a strand of hair off my forehead. There was an incongruency in that soft action, when his other hand was wrapped around my neck.

“I like control.” His voice sounded harsh.

I didn’t fully understand that statement, but my body did. It reacted in a big, rolling shiver, so strong that it almost knocked my feet from beneath me.

This man was capable of dark, unspeakable things. But his capacity for gentleness made me want to weep.

He was right. I wouldn’t be able to handle him. I knew that, he knew that. Emotions made me swallow hard. I could feel the muscles of my throat tighten and bunch beneath his grip. Our eyes met. He was tempted, and that knowledge made me blurt out my next question.

“What do you mean?”

His nostrils flared slightly as he looked down at me. Confusion flashed in his eyes, and then his mouth curled up in another cold smile. “You’re playing with something you shouldn’t.”

I knew it, but I couldn’t seem to stop this madness. He felt like a magnet sucking me in.

His flat gaze held mine, completely devoid of emotion. My eyes widened when he bent down and brought his mouth to mine.

I expected a harsh, punishing kiss, but his lips were like a soft prayer against mine. His fingers tightened around my neck, making me gasp. The sound made him deepen the kiss. His lips felt like velvet against mine, his tongue a wicked torment. A big hand grabbed my braid, yanking my head back and exposing my neck.

I squeezed my eyes shut when his warm mouth and stubbled face slowly moved down the side of my neck. The sensation was pure delirium, making my stomach flop and my heart race. His teeth grazed my pulse, and the patience with which he languorously kissed my skin stunned me. His mouth was awakening something in me, something I didn’t recognize. Something that caught me completely off guard.

He leaned back until his eyes were directly in front of mine. His pupils were huge, but his expression was impassive, almost indifferent.

“You’re in over your head, little bird.”

I remained pressed against the bookshelf as he walked across the room and, without looking back, abandoned me in his loft. I pressed my hands to my flaming cheeks. Maybe I was experiencing Stockholm Syndrome, because, in my old life, I would have run long and hard in the opposite direction from Andrusha. Now I had just let him kiss me and I had kissed him back. Jesus. That kiss had been the craziest kiss of my life. I put my hand to my hot forehead. My whole body had reacted to that kiss, to him.

He comes home with lipstick on his collar.

I paced around the living room, trying to think this through. I needed to be logical. I had three months living here and my existence was precarious at best.

My survival depended on staying in his good graces.

That kiss had been dangerous. I was in over my head. I could still feel the touch of his warm mouth on my lips. Shaking my head, I picked up my textbook in an attempt to not think about him.