The Professional (23 page)

Dick-glamoured? Kind of fitting. “But then I fell right into line.” Dazzled by Sevastyan and Berezka. Lulled by laughter with my father . . .

“You know what? Fuck—this—noise,” Jess declared. “You’re
twenty-four
, Nat. Leave lifelong commitments to people who have
fewer freaking years left. Fifty-year-olds and such. Anybody who tells a girl your age to make a commitment like this must think you won’t live long.” She caught her breath, then said, “Sorry. I forgot you might get capped at any time.”

I swallowed. “Maybe I should view things with that in mind. Act like I only have a month to live. Despite everything, I know I’d want more time with Sevastyan.”

But that didn’t mean I wanted . . . forever.

“Listen to yourself! Put down the Kool-Aid and get some perspective, doll. Sneak away, and I’ll meet you in Europe. We’ll dodge bullets and break hearts.”

“I wish.” When I tried to picture how Sevastyan would react if I stole away, I kept hearing his promise:
If you run from me again, I will catch you. It’s what I do. And then I’ll spread you over my knees and whip your plump ass until you know better.

Only now I knew he’d probably meant that literally. The thought made me shiver. “I’m stuck here for the duration.”

“Say you accept the enforcer. Say the danger passes. Could you be happy there?”

That was the crux of it, huh? “Moving to a new country to be with a new guy while starting at a new school seems like a lot of variables all at once. A lot of choices to make,” I pointed out. “And there’s more. . . .” I told her all about Filip.

This afternoon, I hadn’t even gotten a chance to ask the man what Paxán had wanted to talk to him about before he bit out, “Sevastyan was all over you at the front doors. The bastard as good as announced you’re his.”

Filip had looked harried, like this development had really affected him. But I hadn’t sensed any deeper feelings from him. Yes, he’d flirted with me, but I was fairly sure he would flirt with a
perfumed rock. “How is this your business?” I’d demanded, wondering if he’d been drinking.

“Because I care about you.
Really
care about you.” He’d rubbed his hand over his wan face, drawing attention to his bloodshot eyes, to the deep-seated anger blazing from them. “Sevastyan teed you up. He played you. Now he’s walking around this place with his shoulders back and a smirk on his scarred face—because he’s a billion dollars richer. You’re so naïve. You’re not even his type—did you know that?”

Yes. Yes, I did. Still I said, “That’s bullshit, Filip. Not that I owe you an explanation, but Sevastyan wants me.” Except he hadn’t given me a reason why it was
me
that he wanted above all others. He’d just said that he’d do anything to possess me.

“You got manipulated by a con artist, a hard-core prison thug. Well done, Cuz!”

Then Filip had added a parting shot that had made me cringe, driving me to the sanctuary of my room. I hadn’t even gone down for dinner.

Had I believed what he’d said about Sevastyan? No. But Filip’s accusations highlighted what I’d already accepted: I didn’t
know
Sevastyan.

“What a scrote,” Jess decided, dismissing Filip easily. “Normally I’d say you need someone over there, running point for you, skull-fucking when necessary. But then I recall how you react when backed into a corner.”

“How’s that?”

“You come out throwing elbows,” she said. “You’re nice, until it’s time to not be nice.”

“You’re quoting
Road House
?”

“It was either that or quote from my latest torrid romance
novel.” That was Jess’s not-so-secret habit. As much as she loved the
idea
of love, her reading tastes made sense. Every now and then, she’d foist one on me. “You wanted my unvarnished advice, Nat? Here it is—do nothing permanent. And you damn well better not do anything until you fly my ass over there.”

I
wasn’t surprised when I got a summons from Paxán the next morning. I hadn’t slept, was hardly functioning after two cups of strong tea.

For most of the night, I’d paced, wondering how I’d gotten myself into this mess. After alternately blaming myself and Sevastyan for this, I’d settled on Sevastyan.

He was more experienced than I was, and clearly more ruthless. But how had he manipulated me so easily? And to what end?

Paxán would want a decision this morning. He would lay down the law.

As I made my way to his study, I felt like I was marching to the gallows, my boot heels clicking along the marble. I adjusted the collar of my jade turtleneck, then smoothed my warm palms down the legs of my jeans. All I knew for certain was that I was bone-weary and so tired of being confused.

I passed Gleb, one of the brigadiers, sporting a pistol in an uncovered holster. Like Sevastyan wore. The man gave me a nod of acknowledgment, but nothing like the friendly greetings I usually received when I encountered one of the men.

Gleb’s response brought to mind Filip’s parting words: “All the brigadiers have been wagering whether the Siberian would lock you down. I should’ve taken that bet. But you told me there was nothing between you! And all that time, you let me think you wanted
me
.”

I was now the subject of a bet. Paxán was right; my actions with Sevastyan had eroded my standing here.
Live in the crime country, then obey its laws. . . .

When I entered the study, I was taken aback by Paxán’s kindly expression. He’d been working on a clock, looking adorable with his magnifying glasses on. “Good morning,
dorogaya moya
! Tea?” Ever the gentleman. “You look like you could use some.” He removed his glasses, setting away his tools.

Once I had a cup in hand, he motioned me to join him beside his desk. “I want to show you something.” He opened a large glossy book, flipping to a page. “Have you ever seen this animal?” He pointed to a picture of a black wolf with vivid amber eyes, poised to strike from a snowbank. “Stunning creature, no? It’s a Siberian wolf.”

I nodded absently.

“This type of wolf is more likely to be a loner than other wolves. Some will roam the wilderness, hunting by themselves. But like others of their kind, they mate for life. They’re vicious yet possess an undying loyalty.”

I set down my cup. “We’re not talking about wolves, are we?”

He shook his head. “The more I think about you and Sevastyan together, the more sense it makes. Then last night, he told me the two of you had come to an understanding?” The hopefulness in Paxán’s expression killed me.

God, I didn’t want to disappoint this man. “I . . . maybe we did? But I don’t know if I feel that way now.”

“Oh. I see.” In a sad tone, he said, “Yet actions have consequences, my dear. On the bright side, your engagement could be a long one.”

Except I’d never be able to break it. I was about to hyperventilate. “But . . . but . . .” I pulled at my turtleneck, beginning to pace the room. “I don’t know him—not enough for this. I’m not saying I’d never want more with him, but I can’t just sign on for this. Not yet.”

Jess was right.
Don’t do anything permanent. No lifelong commitments.
These men were expecting too much from me. This
was
too heavy. I couldn’t be bound by this twisted
mafiya
logic. “Can’t I just date him? In the States, we freaking date!”

“We do here as well, unless you’re a crime boss’s daughter who’s gotten involved with his most trusted enforcer during a deadly war for territory.”

When he explained it like that . . . Damn it, I knew I’d screwed up. But that didn’t stop me from grasping for any way out. “Sevastyan and I didn’t, um, consummate anything.”

Paxán noted my panic, looking troubled in turn. “I won’t force you to make a decision you’re obviously uncomfortable with. He must have misread things with you. You shouldn’t be punished for that. But my only other option is to separate you two.”

He’d laid out an alternative, and like a drowning woman, I reached for it. “What do you mean?”

“I would need to send him from here, away from you. At least until things settle down.”

“But this is his home. He adores Berezka.”

“He has other properties,” Paxán said. “These are difficult times. We must make difficult choices.”

Difficult? Try dismal: make some kind of commitment to a
man who was a mystery to me, or send him away from his home.

I felt dizzy. “I don’t want him to go.” My eyes watered. “I’m the odd one out here.
I
need to go.”

“Nonsense!” Paxán crossed to me to grab my shoulders. “You are my daughter! This is your home. It always will be.”

I gazed up at him, surprised by this outpouring of emotion from my buttoned-up father.

As if discomfited by his reaction, he dropped his hands, backing up a step. “Make a decision, Natalie,” he said, his voice sounding sterner than I’d ever heard it.

Nausea churned in my belly. “If I have to choose right now, this very minute . . .” So much pressure, confusion. In a rush, I said, “Then I don’t want anything permanent with Sevastyan. Send him away from here if you have to, but I can’t do this anymore!”

As soon as I said the words, I regretted them—even before I saw that Sevastyan had just crossed the threshold into the room.

He’d been
smiling
before he halted midstep, gorgeous lips curving over even, white teeth, his face all the more handsome for it. Something in my chest felt like it was shifting,
twisting
. Had he been happy to hear our voices, to join us?

I’d wiped that heartbreaking smile right off his face.

I
had done that.

As comprehension hit him, the muscle in his jaw ticked. His fists clenched, his tattooed fingers going white.

Blood drained from my face, and I gasped at his expression; even Paxán took a protective step in front of me.

Because Aleksandr Sevastyan looked like he was about to do murder.

E
yes narrowed and cold, Sevastyan turned to stalk from the room.

“I will discuss things with him, and all will be fine,” Paxán assured me, even as his face showed worry.

I started after Sevastyan, saying over my shoulder, “No, I need to go talk to him.” I sped through the doorway out into the gallery, trailing after him. “Just wait, Sevastyan!”

Shoulders bunched with tension, he didn’t slow. The panic I’d felt just moments before redoubled, now zooming in the other direction. What if I’d found the man who brought
everything
to the table? What if I’d just ruined things with him? “Sevastyan!” I followed him out the front doors onto the landing.

The last time we were here, he’d been kissing me possessively, laying claim. Now he was striding away from me, heading toward his Mercedes—to drive away. To disappear.

I rushed after him. Right when he reached his car, I grabbed his arm.

He flung it out of my grip. “What do you want?”

“You heard things . . . they were out of context.”

“Then tell me you weren’t just getting me kicked out of my own goddamned home, where I have lived for eighteen years.”

“It sounded worse than it was. And in the end I never would have allowed that.”

His expression turned even colder. “
You
wouldn’t have allowed it? Only two weeks here, and you’ve assumed the role of princess so fucking easily.”

I shook my head hard. “Paxán gave me two choices: sign up for something permanent with you, or see you leave. You tell me nothing about yourself, but expect me to make a commitment like that? I barely
know
you.”

“You know enough. You know there was something between us.”

Was
. “Damn it, if you’d stop and let me explain—”

He whirled around on me. “I understand perfectly. You want me to make you come. You crave for me to fuck you, but only if it ends there. Beyond sex, anything with me doesn’t appeal to you.”

I pinched my forehead. “That’s not fair!” I didn’t feel like I was being backed into a corner; I was being tossed headlong. “I never asked for any of this, never asked for this kind of pressure!”