NIKOLAI (Her Russian Protector #4) (31 page)

Instead of texting, I called her. When she
answered two rings later, a loud snore blasted my ear. Even in my
depressed state, I couldn't stop laughing. "Oh my God! What is
that?"

Lena giggled softly. "Hang on. Let me get out
of bed. Yuri is hungover like no one's business and he's snoring
like a damn bear."

"Are you sure he's okay? Maybe you should roll
him onto his side or something."

"He'll be fine." Bedcovers rustled and the
snore grew softer and softer. "Okay. How's this?"

"Much better."

"I'll be lucky if I get him out of bed before
noon. After you two left, he really cut loose. I guess he decided
that his duties as best man had been successfully discharged so it
was time to party like a college kid."

I had a hard time imagining Yuri partying. Like
Nikolai, he always seemed so conservative and in
control.

"So…?"

A sob I hadn't wanted to unleash escaped my
lips. "It was awful."

Lena inhaled a sharp breath. "Are you okay? Did
he—are you hurt?"

"No. No. Nothing like that," I hurriedly
clarified, lest she think the absolute worst of Nikolai. "He
didn't—I mean—well…he left."

Lena didn't say anything for a few seconds.
"What do you mean he left?"

"We were making out and I was naked and it was
really hot and everything was going so well—and then he, like,
freaked out and left."

"Left? Left where?"

I sniffled loudly. "I don't know. He ran out of
the bedroom without even zipping his pants. I heard the front door
open and close a few times but I guess he came back while I was
sleeping."

"God, Vivi," Lena said on a noisy
breath. "I don't even know what to say. Did…did something happen
while you were kissing? Maybe he couldn't…
you know
?"

"That wasn't the problem." I remembered the
feel of his hard cock in my hand. "He was ready to go. I was ready
to go. It got a little intense and I wanted to slow it
down."

"What did you say when you wanted to slow it
down?"

"Wait."

"Oh. Well…maybe he thought you meant
stop?"

"Maybe," I said uncertainly. "But why didn't he
just ask me?"

"If I understood men, I'd be richer than Yuri
by writing how-to books for us girls. Look, Nikolai isn't the most
expressive of men. Maybe he didn't know how to ask you or maybe he
wanted to cool things down to make sure you were absolutely
ready."

"I
married
him, Lena. How much more
ready does he need me to be?"

"That's a question you have to ask him. He's
your husband now. Hell—maybe this is a better question for Benny.
She's got a few weeks of married woman experience. She might have
better advice."

"I guess."

Lena seemed to hesitate before
asking, "What if he reacted that way last night because of
that thing
that happened
to him when he was a little boy?"

My heart skipped a few beats. Suddenly, I felt
so damn selfish. "I hadn't even considered that he might have
issues with intimacy because of what they did to him."

"I feel like such an asshole even asking this
but did he date a lot before you? I mean, do you know if he was
having regular sex with anyone?"

My stomach pitched painfully at the
idea of Nikolai in another woman's arms. "I saw him date a little
when I first started working at Samovar but it's been a
long,
long
time
since I've seen him with anyone."

"So maybe he can have sex—"

"But just not with me?" My lower lip wobbled.
"What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing!" Lena passionately replied. "You're
perfect and beautiful and sweet and desirable. There's nothing
wrong with you. Even if it turns out that he can't be with you for
whatever reason, it's not your fault. Okay? Whatever this is—it's
not your fault."

Though Lena desperately tried to reassure me, I
couldn't shake the feeling that I was the reason our wedding night
had gone so badly. As I showered and dressed, I tried to ignore the
anxiety building within me. I didn't know what the hell I was going
to say or do when I saw Nikolai downstairs. He'd probably be sweet
and gentle with me and pretend nothing had happened.

But I didn't want to pretend. I
wanted to figure out what the hell had gone wrong so we could fix
the problem. I loved him and I wanted him—
all
of him.

I descended the stairs slowly and quietly. My
heart raced and my mouth went dry. Rather than draw out the
inevitable, I decided to seek him out now. I stopped by the library
and his home office but both came up empty.

Eventually, I circled through the entire house
before reaching the kitchen where I discovered Sergei seated on a
barstool at the island enjoying a cup of coffee and the paper. He
glanced up at me and smiled. "Good morning."

"Morning." I skipped the coffee and headed for
the refrigerator for a can of soda. This morning I had a craving
for something fizzy and sweet.

"There's fruit and pastries." He gestured to a
spread on the other end of the counter. "I can make you some eggs
or bacon, if you'd like."

"Thank you, but no." I didn't add that the only
man making me breakfast the morning after my wedding should have
been my husband. Sergei obviously didn't want to be in this
uncomfortable position. I sensed he wanted to be anywhere but here
this morning. "Where is Nikolai?"

Sergei's gaze dropped to his cup of coffee. "He
had to leave on business."

"Business," I repeated with
disbelief.

"Yeah." Sergei nervously cleared his throat.
"I'm supposed to make sure you're looked after today. If you need
to go anywhere, just ask."

"Take me to Nikolai."

"You know I can't do that."

Irritation burned me right up. "Then take me to
my studio."

"But you haven't eaten," Sergei
interjected.

"I'm not hungry."

"Nikolai isn't going to like hearing that I let
you leave without breakfast."

"If he doesn't like it, he can take it up with
me." I stormed out of the kitchen and into the mud room where I
grabbed my coat and messenger bag. As I got dressed, I started to
cry. It made me feel so weak and silly but I couldn't stop the hot
tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Sweetheart," Sergei said gently from the
doorway. "Don't cry. Okay? I can't handle the sight of a pretty
girl like you crying."

I wiped at my face and refused to face him.
"You'd better get used to it. I have a feeling you're going to be
seeing it a lot."

He chuckled at my melodramatic reply.
"Here."

I glanced back to see him extending a napkin.
"Thanks."

"Listen," he said carefully as I dabbed at my
face, "if Nikolai could be here right now he would be. Do you think
he wanted to spend last night away from you?" Sergei shook his
head. "Something happened last night and he's doing what a good
boss does. He's taking care of it."

"And what about a good husband? Isn't a husband
supposed to take care of his wife?"

"He's not any old husband, Vivian. He's
Nikolai."

And there it was. The absolute unvarnished
truth. In the hierarchy of Nikolai's world, I ranked somewhere near
the top but a few pegs lower than his loyalty to the
family.

My heart ached with such bitter disappointment.
Turning my back on Sergei, I ordered, "Get your jacket. I'm ready
to go."

He didn't answer immediately. When he did, it
was in a voice tinged with sadness. "Yes, ma'am."

Chapter Twenty

Nikolai recognized the dark expression on
Sergei's face when he arrived at the studio that evening. He
checked his watch and grimaced. It was nearly seven. He could only
imagine how infuriated Vivian was by now. Every time he'd wanted to
call her, he'd been interrupted with something more pressing.
Sorting out this mess and shoring up support for the possible war
that loomed on the horizon had taken much longer than he'd
anticipated.

"You might want to keep a table between you,"
Sergei suggested as he neared the door. The loud pulsing thud of
the electronic music she preferred made the walls shake. "She's got
all sorts of sharp objects within arm's reach. Chisels, knives—I'd
stand back if I were you."

Nikolai took the warning to heart. Gathering
his courage, he stepped inside the studio and locked the door
behind him. This was an argument he didn't want
interrupted.

"I said to stay out, Sergei!" She didn't even
bother looking to see who had come in the door. He took advantage
of her turned back to scope out the surroundings. She'd spread out
drop cloths on the floor. Two canvases sat on easels. Both were in
various stages of completion. Four other painted but destroyed
canvases had been haphazardly tossed against a wall.

He walked over to the sound system and turned
down the music a few notches. "Vee."

She went rigid at the sound of his voice. When
she turned around, she had one of those oddly-shaped palette knives
in one hand and a paint-smeared palette in the other. The palette
could give him a good whack but it was the knife that made him
worry. He'd seen shivs less gnarly than that thing.

Glaring at him, she remarked harshly, "Well,
you're braver than Sergei."

"I wouldn't go that far," he said while
carefully closing the distance between them. "I'm clearly
stupider."

"Don't expect me to argue that one."

"I don't." He was certain she had a number of
choice words she'd like to toss his way. Glancing at the ruined
canvases, he asked jokingly, "Is that a new technique?"

Vivian narrowed her eyes. "No, it's
my latest series. I call it
Stupid Girl
Who Married a Mob Boss and Expected to Matter.
" She gestured to the two canvases on her easels. "I think I'm
going to call these
Bitter
Disappointment
and
The Joys of a Wedding Breakfast Mob Enforcer
Style
."

Nikolai winced. "Point taken, Vee."

She tossed the palette and knife onto the
nearest work table. She put her hands on her hips and smeared paint
on her sandy colored sweater dress. Apparently she was so pissed
off she hadn't even cared to protect her clothing with an apron.
"Where the hell have you been?"

He inhaled a noisy breath and rubbed the back
of his neck. He started to question his decision to forego the
smoke he'd wanted so badly. Right now, he could have used the
mellowed out nerves because it was clear she wanted to fight. "It's
complicated."

"Then make time to explain it."

"I can't, Vee."

"Bullshit. We're married now." She lifted her
hand and touched her wedding band. "We're supposed to be partners.
Do you think Dimitri keeps things from Benny? Do you think he goes
all day without calling her?"

He bristled at the comparison. "We're two
different men in two different marriages."

She grabbed a marker and a piece of paper,
slammed them down on the table and shoved them toward him. "You may
as well go ahead and write out the rules of our marriage because I
clearly missed that memo."

Part of him wanted to embrace the smartass role
and start scribbling away on that sheet of blank paper. Maybe it
would be simpler to put it all on the line right now. The pain
darkening those beautiful blue eyes of hers pushed that thought
right out of his head. Desperate to make things right, he moved
around the table to stand in front of her. "Vee…"

"Don’t." She put her hands on his chest to keep
him from kissing her. "You just…you left me."

The anguish coloring her voice slashed at him.
She wasn't simply talking about the way he'd abruptly ended their
wedding night. It occurred to him that all her life the people she
cared for and loved had been walking out on her or leaving her
behind. Her mother committed suicide. Her father went to prison.
Her grandparents had both died.

And he'd walked out on their wedding night
without even explaining himself. He'd gone all day without talking
to her. He could only imagine how abandoned she felt.

Touching his forehead to hers, he whispered,
"I'm sorry. I should have called you or left you a note or woken
you up to talk to you."

"What happened last night?"

He wasn't ready to discuss what had happened in
their bed just yet. Voice lowered, he explained, "Someone dropped
the bodies of the men who attacked us at Samovar."

Vivian reeled back with horror.
"What?"

He nodded. "I've been trying to deal with that
all night and today. There might be a war."

Her face paled. "No."

"I don't like telling you this. I wanted to
keep it from you. I wish I could make it all go away but I can't.
You're right. You need to know."