He opens the door a crack and looks out, then looks at me and tips his head toward the door.
“Who?” I demand.
When he stares back at me without answering, I suddenly know.
My body lights on fire. I don’t know if it’s with anger or purpose. I stride to the door and yank it open.
Chelle looks kissable.
Fuckable.
Too damned cute.
I hate that I love her so much.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
She pales, her big golden eyes trained on my face, her freckles standing out. “I, um, came to play poker with you.”
I shake my head. “Go home.” I start to go back inside, but she catches my hand and tugs me out into the hallway. The same place we began this whole thing.
“I was going to wager my body,” she says quickly, like she’s trying to get it out. She unbuttons her coat to show me her tits pushed up in a sexy little black bustier.
I’m shaking my head. We’re not doing this again. No way.
“Because I already lost my heart,” she blurts.
I go perfectly still. Swallow.
Then I lose my mind. I barrel into her and shove her up against the wall, claiming her mouth with a searing kiss.
I grab her ass and hoist her up, and she wraps her arms and legs around me, kissing me back.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpers between kisses. “I’m sorry I left.”
“I love you, Chelle,” I tell her, even though it feels like jumping out of a plane with no chute. “I missed you so goddamn much.” I grind the bulge of my erection in the notch between her legs as I kiss her neck, her jaw, her forehead. “But I don’t want you back unless you’re staying,” I rasp.
She stares at me in shock. It’s too much to ask, I know that. My girl thinks way too much about things, and she’s already not sure about me and the bratva.
She sucks in a breath. “I want to,” she whispers.
It’s enough.
“I love you, Nikolai.” There’s more conviction in those words, and the grace of them bathes my body in comfort. In surrender.
That’s more than enough. It’s all we need. We love each other. The rest we can figure shit out.
“Come home with me,” I murmur, and she nods. “Now?” she nods again.
I look at the door to the hotel suite.
Fuck them. They can handle the games.
I have my girl.
I carry Chelle into the elevator and hit the down button. She’s mine now. No matter what, she’s mine.
I won’t let her go a second time.
23
Chelle
* * *
“I’m sorry I scared you,” Nikolai murmurs. I’m wrapped in his arms in the elevator on the way up to his apartment.
“You didn’t scare me,” I say. “I scared myself. The situation scared me.” The image of the dead bodies flickers in my mind, and I realize what tripped me into my freak-out. “I found my dad after he shot himself.”
“Oh, Chelle.” Nikolai cups half my face, while the other cheek remains pressed firmly against his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“I honestly think I’d blocked the image of it out until this moment. But the feeling was the same. The sickness and fear.”
“I’m sorry, zayka.” The elevator opens, and we step out. I look up at him. “You’ve seen a lot of death.”
He nods.
“That scared me, too.”
“I know. I…” He hesitates with his keycard against the lock. “My place is trashed. You should probably wait out here while I clean up quickly.”
“It’s fine.” I push the door open. I don’t know what he’s talking about because the place is spotless.
“Oh.” He blinks a few times. “My brothers are very good to me.”
“Brothers, plural?”
“Bratva means brotherhood. They are all my brothers. This was very kind.” He looks at me thoughtfully. “They knew you were coming tonight. Who told you where to come?”
“I called Story, and she told me she couldn’t do business with me because I’d broken your heart. I told her my heart was broken too, and I needed to see you before it was too late.”
Nikolai leans his forehead against mine. “I’m a lucky man.”
“I’m luckiest.”
The edges of Nikolai’s mouth kick up. “In a minute, I’m going to take you in my bedroom and fuck you blind, but first I think we need to talk.” He picks me up to straddle his waist again and carries me to an overstuffed armchair where he sits. “You have questions about what I am. What I do. I refused to answer them before, but I will answer anything now. One-time offer.” He palms my ass and squeezes, making it hard for me to concentrate.
But he’s right. I have questions that torment me about him.
But none of them come out. I don’t really want to know the specifics after all.
He helps me. “I have done many things for the bratva, Freckles. But we operate with a code. We don’t harm the innocent. We protect our own. We don’t use drugs or sell flesh. There’s some smuggling, a lot of tax evasion. Gambling and loan sharking, obviously. We use intimidation and fear to get our way in business negotiations but rarely actually have to deliver on the threats.”