The Mogul And The Muscle

“Novakoff.”

“I did not expect to see you here,” Novakoff said. “You have an interest in this situation?”

Jude subtly moved in front of me. “She’s mine.”

Novakoff gave a slight nod, his eyes still on Jude. He angled his face toward one of the men next to him and spoke softly. “Why wasn’t I told of this?”

The man closest to him said something quietly in Russian. Jude didn’t move. He stood straight and tall, facing forward, my hand clasped in his.

Finally, Novakoff turned his attention back to Jude. “It appears there has been a misunderstanding. We were unaware of your connection to Ms. Whitbury. I can assure you, it will not happen again.”

“Good,” Jude said.

“However, he and I have unfinished business.” Novakoff pointed to Bobby. “He has caused me a fair bit of trouble.”

“We have that in common,” Jude said.

“Nah, dog, we’re good,” Bobby said. “I’ll just pay you the rest of what I owe you and we can all move on.”

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Spencer,” Novakoff said, his voice smooth. “We had an arrangement and you’re no longer able to uphold your end of the deal.”

“Do you want my car?” he asked, fumbling through his pockets. “Take it. It’s a Lambo. It’s worth a quarter of a million, easy. That plus the money I owe you. It’s wiping out my trust fund, but seriously dude, don’t kill me.”

“That covers a portion of your debt, but not all of it.” Novakoff paused for a moment, as if considering. Then his eyes shifted to me. “Ms. Whitbury, a proposal.”

My heart was in my throat, but I kept my expression still. “I’m listening.”

“As recompense for the trouble my men caused on his behalf, we will take care of Mr. Spencer for you.”

I glanced at Jude. His eyebrows twitched. This was my call.

“May I speak frankly?” I asked.

“Of course,” Novakoff said.

“That’s very generous, and he deserves everything that’s coming to him.” I looked back and shot Bobby a cool glare. “But I don’t want to have anyone killed. Even him.”

Novakoff tipped his head to me. “Very well. An alternative. I’ll give him a position cleaning toilets in one of my clubs. Hard work. Very… messy. He can work off his debt. It will take a long time, but for you, I am willing to be generous. After this, we let him go.”

Bobby made a strangled noise in his throat.

It was hard not to laugh at the thought of Bobby cleaning toilets. No inheritance. His trust fund drained. Broke and forced to work for a living? That was a fate worse than death to a guy like Bobby.

“I accept,” I said.

Novakoff gestured toward Bobby. “Take him and put him to work.”

“They aren’t going to kill him anyway, are they?” I whispered to Jude as Bobby tried to negotiate—his voice increasingly whiney—with the two men leading him away.

“No. He’s a man of his word.”

“All right, Ellis, I trust there is no need for more unpleasantness between us?” Novakoff asked.

Jude shook his head. “We’re good.”

“Bol’shoe spasibo,” Novakoff said, angling his head down.

Jude answered with a nod.

Novakoff barked a command in Russian and his men moved aside, giving us a way out.

“Ellis,” Novakoff said with another nod. “Until we meet again.”

“With respect, Novakoff, let’s hope we don’t,” Jude said.

“Indeed.”

Jude tightened his grip on my hand and led us to the exit.

35

CAMERON

T he early morning air was warm and the water sparkled in the sun. The lemon trees Bert had planted around the property filled the air with the light scent of fresh citrus. I stretched out my legs on the deck chair and adjusted my sunglasses. I still wore my silk nightie—peach with subtle gold accents—and I just might not bother getting dressed today.

After all, I’d survived being kidnapped by the mob. That called for a day in pajamas.

Jude came out onto the balcony with two mugs of coffee. He hadn’t dressed, either. His dark blue boxer briefs displayed his tempting bulge and hugged his thighs. His muscular upper body was on full display. Wide shoulders. Broad chest. Solid abs. Thick, tattooed arms.