Used by the Russian Mafia Boss: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (23 page)

She adjusted her hold on the box in her lap. “I’m not ashamed of the fact that I care, Ivan. You’re the one who is so determined to be ruthless.”

They didn’t speak again until the limo pulled up in front of his building. Ivan felt a shot of pride at the posh surroundings. He’d come far in the last eight years. Now it was time to make the two people who had declared him unworthy see that he wasn’t someone’s worthless underling anymore.

Emily got out of the limo and threw her head back, staring up at the fifteen-story building he called home. “This is yours?”

“I purchased it four or five years ago.” He intentionally sounded blasé, flicking his fingers toward the building in a casual manner.

“This is really nice, Ivan.” Emily’s honesty took him by surprise. She cocked her head as though she were evaluating his behavior. “You thought I wouldn’t care, or wouldn’t admit that you’ve come a long way. Didn’t you?”

Somehow that honest assessment of his expectations chafed away any satisfaction he might have taken from the fact that she was impressed. He shouldered past her toward the door, growling at her to hurry up. “Would you get a move on? We’re standing out here like tourists. Yes. It’s an expensive building. I own it. You’re in real estate, so I’m sure you know far more about its virtues than I do. So what?”

“You don’t have to be so rude,” Emily said stiffly. “You can take a compliment now and again without being such a jerk, Ivan.”

There. That was much better. When she was prickly he felt less inclined toward her. He could be rude and domineering and not even feel bad about it. But when she was all compliments and smiles he felt all of that protective ice around his heart begin to melt.

Ivan shoved his way through the front door. The doorman on duty leaped to attention. The deference made Ivan feel even better. He straightened his spine and growled a greeting before striding toward the elevators without even bothering to make certain that Emily was following along.

“I love the marble work on the floor.” She was standing in the center of the lobby, walking in circles.

Ivan had to put his hand out to stop the elevator. “Are you going to get in or are you taking the stairs?” he growled.

“I’m just admiring your building.” She threw her head back and stared up at the vaulted ceiling where the crystal chandelier hung like a sparkling cluster of jewels.

Ivan couldn’t help but admire her as she admired the furnishings in his building. Emily was dressed like an uptight businesswoman in her black suit, but the way she wore her hair up gave him a good view of her graceful neck. And her movements were pulling her clothing snug against her curves and giving him a good view of the loveliness of her body.

“Well, Ivan,” she said as she slipped into the elevator, “you’ve done very well for yourself. That’s for certain.”

They were the words he had waited so long to hear, and yet he felt no better at all for hearing them. “Just get in the damn elevator so we can go upstairs.” He said a few choice phrases in Russian, annoyed and uncertain as to why.

“So do you have offices upstairs?” she asked as the elevator rose toward the fifteenth floor.

“Not exactly.” He felt smug as he realized that she hadn’t yet guessed exactly what her situation was going to be. “I work out of my apartment.”

“You have the penthouse?” She nodded. She wasn’t surprised at all.

Ivan frowned. “It’s a very large space, so I’ve converted half of it to offices. If I need to have meetings with my dealers, suppliers, or other associates, I schedule them at one of my restaurants.”

“That’s a good idea.” Her voice was pleasant. “So will I have an office in one of those restaurants?”

“No,” he grunted. “You’re going to be working out of my office on the fifteenth floor. And your job includes a bed in that apartment.”

“An apartment on a different floor?” He saw her swallow, obviously uncomfortable.

“No.” Ivan waited until the doors opened into the foyer of his penthouse apartment. “Welcome home, Emily.”

Chapter Four

Emily was beginning to think she had made a very big mistake in agreeing to Ivan’s ridiculous scheme. She straightened her spine, gathered her resolve, and marched into the ornate foyer of Ivan’s home, but inside she wished she could turn tail and run.

The penthouse apartment was palatial. Emily turned in a slow circle as she took in the vaulted ceiling and the circular table in the center of the room. She moved closer to the table, wanting a look at the artwork sitting on the inlaid wood.

She felt Ivan’s larger-than-life presence looming behind her. “Do you like the sculpture?”

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

The stone rendition of a soaring falcon seemed to be circling a rocky outcrop. The falcon’s feathers were so intricately carved that it appeared that she might be able to reach out and touch one, only to feel it move beneath her fingers.

Ivan strode past her, swaggering arrogantly through the space as though he were king of the world. Emily wondered when he had become so materialistic. The Ivan she had fallen in love with eight years ago had placed almost no importance on possessions.

He flung his arms out to encompass the entire apartment. “This is my humble abode.”

Her gaze slid over the richly appointed rooms, the elegant furnishings, state-of-the-art entertainment system, and the gourmet kitchen she could just barely glimpse from the entryway. Everything was new. It looked barely used. Even now Ivan was sitting on the brown suede leather surface of his couch in a way that gave her the impression that he was quite uncomfortable there.

“So what do you think of my home?” he pressed. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“If that sort of thing is important to you.” She shrugged. “Is there someplace I can put my office things?”

He jumped up from the couch, leading the way down a wide hallway. Their trek ended in an office with a fabulous view of the city park. “You may use my desk.” He indicated the mahogany monstrosity with a wave of his hand. “I don’t work here very much.”

She didn’t take the bait, setting her things on the desk, instead, and poking at the desktop computer. “Do you have a list of tasks that I’m going to be responsible for? I’m assuming you must have had a plan since you were so adamant that I work for you.”

“Of course,” he murmured. “My books are right there. If you wouldn’t mind making the last few days’ worth of entries, and then we’ll meet later on to discuss the rest of your duties.”

“I hope you’re not still thinking that I’m going to fall all over myself to jump into bed with you.” She rifled through her box, searching for her day planner.

***

Ivan was not about to tell her how much it hurt his pride to hear her say that. Perhaps he had expected things to happen in much the same way they had when she had been only nineteen and he had been twenty-three. She had certainly seemed willing back then.

“Why did you never try to convince your brother to let us be together?” Ivan asked suddenly.

She glanced up from the desk, her eyebrows raised and a look of plain surprise on her face. “I’m not sure what you mean. Sergei fired you. I had nothing to do with it.”

“You could have argued on my behalf. We were a couple. You could have done
something
,” Ivan argued.

“I could have
done
something?” Emily asked incredulously. “I like how all of it—everything—is just my fault. What sort of power do you think I hold over my brother? I could have no more changed his mind than you could have.”

Ivan gazed at her, completely baffled by what she was saying. It was the antithesis of everything he’d ever thought. Spinning on his heel, he made to leave his office. “Everything you need for business should be right here. If not, send a text and I’ll make certain someone responds.”

“Wait,” she called after him. “Where are you going?”

“I need some air,” he grunted.

Ivan left her behind and headed out to the terrace. He couldn’t stand to be inside anymore. A fierce wind had kicked up outside, pushing the clouds across the afternoon sky and ruffling his dark hair. He placed his hands on the stone railing and leaned out to catch a glimpse of the world fifteen stories below.

“I could no more have changed his mind than you could have,” he muttered, repeating her words. “That’s bullshit. He would have listened to her.”

Ivan groaned and tried to refocus. It didn’t matter what had happened eight years ago. None of that made any difference. He had a plan for today and that was all that mattered. He pulled out his phone and dialed Samantha Brisco’s number.

“Hey,” he said tersely. “Start picking up that list of dealers and pushers I gave you.”

“Sergei Volkov’s men?” Samantha sounded skeptical.

“Yes. I want them off the streets. I want them unable to earn any revenue for Sergei.” He pounded his fist on the unforgiving stone of the railing.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, but then she agreed. “All right, but I’m warning you, Ivan. I want the bigger fish and you’re just giving me bait. If I see a chance, I’m going for it.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” Ivan grunted.

He gazed out over the city, watching the twilight begin to darken the edges of the sky. It was time to put the second part of his plan into action.

***

It took Emily all of ten minutes to decide that Ivan had absolutely no need of her administrative services. So why was she really here?

She turned in her chair and gazed out at the spectacular view from Ivan’s office windows. Hooking her foot on the edge of the desk, she idly spun her chair in half circles while she contemplated his intentions.

Ivan had incriminating evidence on her brother. Or at least he had knowledge of something that would make life very difficult for Sergei within the organization. Ivan also had ample reason to want to get back at Sergei. Her brother’s actions eight years ago had humiliated Ivan in more ways than one.

“It’s too bad nobody ever wonders what
I
thought about that whole bullshit situation,” she muttered. “I lost too. Except no one cares. They’re too worried about their stupid pride.”

Emily put her hands over her face and tried to clear her mind. She had agreed to this stupid plan for all the wrong reasons. She wanted to help her brother, but she also wanted another chance with Ivan.

“What are you doing?”

Emily straightened abruptly, feeling embarrassed. “I was just…contemplating my circumstances,” she said lightly.

He crossed his arms over his chest, making himself look twice as forbidding. “I’m sure your boyfriend is probably pissed that you took this job.”

“My
boyfriend
?” she snorted. “Come on, Ivan. Don’t insult my intelligence. Either you’re horrible at doing research about your revenge targets, or you know that I don’t
have
a boyfriend and you’re seeking to embarrass me.”

“Do you always think this much?” He leaned against the doorjamb. Something about his manner simply oozed a sense of dark desirability. Ivan was the only person she knew who could look sexy when he was being an ass.

“Thinking is rather a requirement for getting on in life, don’t you think?” She shook her head. “But back to the boyfriend question. No. I don’t have a boyfriend right now. Honestly, I haven’t had time for one in…let’s say in eight years.”

His brows lifted in what she sensed was real surprise. “I find that difficult to believe.”

“I don’t particularly care if you find it difficult or not,” she retorted. “I’ve gone out a few times, taken a few lovers”—oh it was obvious that he didn’t like that, the oaf—“and I’ve had my share of fun. But getting into a long-term relationship takes dedication and work, and I just don’t feel like I want to commit to the effort.”

“That’s a cold assessment,” he observed.

He stepped into the office and approached her slowly. She took a deep breath. The sexual tension between the two of them had always been intense, but this was approaching combustion. She exhaled slowly and then inhaled. Unfortunately, that gave her a nose full of Ivan Dedov—dark masculine spice, cedar, sandalwood, and something undeniably attractive that made everything below her belly tighten up with arousal. He affected her in ways nobody else ever had. But now was
not
the time.

“Did you have a purpose for coming in here?” she demanded, forcing herself not to react to his nearness. “Or are you just hanging out to have girl talk about boyfriends and the latest hair treatments?”

Placing his hands on either arm of her chair, he leaned in until their faces were only inches apart. Then he took a deep, intentional breath. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to go get some dinner and discuss your weekly duties.”

“Yes, yes of course.” She nodded, trying to hang on to her composure and feeling as though her knees were made of jelly.

***

Ivan could tell that he was affecting her. Good. It served the little wretch right. She was driving him to distraction with her sassy words, and that scent!

“You know,” he began slowly, “when I first met you, I never would have imagined you could be the type of woman who would allow your brother to dictate your life.”

“Is that what you believe of me?” Her dark eyes sparked with anger.

He gave her a slow, appraising look. “Isn’t that what has happened both in the past and the present?”

“Just because you don’t understand what I did or what my reasons might have been, doesn’t mean I let my brother run my life!”

Oh yes, she was angry now. The animosity practically made her vibrate with excitement. It also had the dual effect of making her look quite fetching. Ivan struggled to keep a solemn expression on his face.

Emily narrowed her gaze until her dark eyes were slits. “I always knew you were as ignorant as you were arrogant, but this really takes the cake!”

“Ignorant, am I?” He stood up, pushing away from her chair and forcing himself to put a little distance between them.

He could feel the draw of her. The memories of what it felt like to gently stroke the skin between her breasts, to kiss her neck, or to hear the noises she made when she grew aroused began to play inside his head. He needed to keep moving and stick to his plan before it consumed him more thoroughly that it would her.