The councilor a dark rus.., p.26

  The Councilor: A Dark Russian Mafia Romance, p.26

The Councilor: A Dark Russian Mafia Romance
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  He was now concentrating on Bratva business, often meeting with Vadim daily. But he’d made time to care for me, our passion finally exploding again after my brain had adjusted to the horrors I’d experienced.

  “So where are we going, some posh hotel?” I pursed, purring under my breath.

  “Good things happen to girls who show restraint and patience. Bad things happen, like harsh spankings to those who push the envelope.”

  I had no idea how he could switch on and off the darkness inside of him. He’d certainly been the brutal man, the killer for days after the incident. When he’d been gone, the single time I’d asked where he’d gone had been met with the comment ‘you don’t want to know.’ That meant he’d been rounding up anyone and everyone associated with the kidnapping.

  “What about the house in Brighton?”

  Aleksander’s laugh sent shutters down my spine. “Well, currently it’s still bullet ridden, although the place will have a full renovation. Plus, in my mind there are still too many bad memories there.”

  He was right about that.

  I barely remembered anything after the shooting. I had gotten off a couple of shots, but the guy had been wary, prepared for them. He’d dodged the bullets before he’d been hit.

  The bastard.

  He’d grabbed me around the neck, squeezing to the point I’d been closer to blacking out, but not enough I hadn’t seen the dead bodies strewn across the sand. Then I’d been dumped into a boat of some kind and light had gone out after he’d drugged me with something. Waking up in a cold, moldy room had put the fear of God into me.

  I’d cried at first, praying in my mind the man I loved would save me. When I’d dared make a single sound out loud, the bastard had struck me so hard stars had pounded my eyes.

  So, I’d shut up and made a plan, listening and observing the comings and goings of two men. Whoever Jericho’s buddy had been was a druggie, but I’d used that to my advantage. The asshole had used rope, which had allowed me to roll the thick strands across a single sharp metal surface. My wrists had been chafed, bruised, and likely bleeding, but the friend who’d been responsible for feeding me little more than gruel in a bowl hadn’t noticed.

  The room had been too dark. At least I’d had water.

  I’d asked a few questions, a couple of which the sniper’s buddy had answered. It provided just enough information that when I was ready to escape, I had a full exit strategy.

  I’d overheard Ivan say if I hadn’t escaped, I would likely not be alive.

  Even now, I was shivering to my core. Why was I thinking about the horror when it was my wedding day?

  “Sit tight. We’ll be there shortly,” he told me. “I planned on having another reception with the fun people there. You know, dancing and drinking, frolicking on the beach while a caterer had prepared the finest goodies in the land.”

  “I don’t need anything fancy. I just need laughter. And you.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, feeling more relaxed than before.

  “Baby, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. Now, sit back, close your eyes, and just relax. All secrets will be revealed shortly.”

  “Why, yes, sir. So authoritative.”

  “Don’t you forget it either. As I told you before,” my own gorgeous Russian said in a deep voice. “Not only do you belong to me but you will be required to obey me. At all times. Regardless of whatever happens around us, you will follow my rules.”

  “I know. Or else.” Of course, the handsome man always seemed to forget I was truly in control. All I needed to do was slide my fingers along his upper thigh, shifting it between his legs and savor holding and squeezing the huge bulge between, squeezing until he moaned. Every gravelly sound he made was far too adorable, pushing my boundaries of desire.

  “Such a bad girl.”

  “You married me. Remember?”

  “Which means I still have the joy of taming you.”

  “Ha!”

  He’d driven one of the new sports cars that I couldn’t pronounce, the open windows and rocking music keeping a mischievous smile on my face. When he made a turn and the sound of the engine powering down reached my ears, I leaned forward. It was impossible not to. He was a man full of surprises.

  For all his bravado, his masculine roughness, he was soft inside. Of course, I would never tell anyone that. Nope. It was my private secret.

  The engine slowed even more, another turn made and suddenly, we were at a standstill. At least I’d been able to change out of the way too frilly wedding dress into a little frock my besties had helped me select.

  We’d been allowed to go shopping and to lunch, and I’d bought everything of course. We’d had bodyguards the entire time, which the girls had found amusing. They’d even flirted with Kristoff and Ivan, which had amused the hell out of me since the two burly men had no idea how to handle the boisterous women.

  I’d had a blast, including them watching me purchase a very expensive watch for my soon to be husband. They’d oohed and ahhed, still unused to the fact I now had money.

  Not that I cared.

  “Okay, my bride. This is a new adventure, a new beginning, one I hope both of us will embrace.”

  He was out of the car before I could say anything. I managed to get open my door, touching the blindfold in hopes of ripping it off soon.

  My husband was suddenly there. “Nope. Not yet. Let me help you out.”

  “I can do it myself, even blind.”

  Yet he pulled me out, immediately whisking me into his arms.

  “What are you doing, Neanderthal man?”

  “Taking control of my wayward bride. Plus, did you forget about traditions? Carrying you over the threshold of our new home.”

  “New home? You have a perfectly good home, plus two others.”

  His dark laugh sent another wave of shudders through me. I kept one hand on his chest, forced to admit to myself I had butterflies of excitement in my stomach. The powerful man could do that to a girl.

  Plus, I couldn’t lie about the fact that I was curious as to what he’d purchased for us.

  He was whistling as he carried me, taking at least three steps before unlocking a door. I could tell he’d kicked it in, which made me laugh all over again. The man was a take charge kind of guy with everything.

  “Now, keep in mind there’s some work to do but I’m certain you can handle it.” He eased me onto the floor.

  “Me? Where are you going to be, staying away from your new bride?”

  He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tightly against him. “You know better. You will be on a short leash.”

  Why was it that his words were so exciting?

  “Keep your eyes closed until I give you permission to open them.” He removed the blindfold and I realized I was holding my breath.

  As he walked me forward by a couple of steps, I wasn’t certain I could breathe, I was so lightheaded.

  “You can open them now.” His command was just as dark and inviting as the man.

  I took my time and when I did, seeing the incredible view of the ocean setting outside the magnificent set of all glass doors was breathtaking. The ocean waves were gently rolling against the shoreline and maybe some might think being here would bring back horrible memories.

  Somehow, it was just the opposite.

  I felt invigorated and alive, as if my life had just begun. Correction. Our life.

  “What is this place?” I asked, moving toward the bank of doors first. The massive deck was incredible, complete with a hot tub, fire pit, and trellis system highlighting a modern and sleek outdoor kitchen. He said nothing as I turned around, realizing the house seemed to go on in several directions. It was huge. That was easy to tell.

  “Our new home,” he said quietly. There was a quiet reverence on his face, a peacefulness I hadn’t seen in recent weeks. “There’s pretty much no furniture but I also figured you wouldn’t mind adding your touch to it.”

  I found myself staring at him, uncertain what to say. When I raced in his direction, throwing both my arms and legs around him, he was completely caught off guard. He lifted me into the air, spinning me around as he laughed.

  “You’re amazing but this is huge,” I told him.

  “Not too large or too special for the queen of a mafia leader.”

  Queen. “I’m your queen?”

  “You bet. Don’t forget that.”

  “It’s still huge.” I kissed his cheek and breathed across his skin. Just being in his arms could keep me lightheaded. “We’ll get lost.”

  “I assure you that we won’t and I have a feeling we’ll fill a few rooms.”

  His grin was positively evil. “Children can wait. I just got married.”

  “Yeah, but time is of the essence.”

  “Ha!” I pushed him away, spinning around in another circle. “Time to explore.”

  “Not so fast.” He was on me in a split second, grabbing my arm. “I want to show you something first. Then you can explore to your heart’s desire. Come on.” He took my hand, leading me down a series of hallways. At least I had a chance to see several rooms, so many with insanely gorgeous views.

  When he led me to a set of spiral stairs that was hidden, I became more and more intrigued. It wound around to a third floor given the elevation, a tiny sitting area nestling by the banister.

  “I want you to have a special place for just you. I hired an artist who knew exactly what to purchase. I figured you might want to keep your studio in the other house since we’re not selling it.”

  He waited until I walked into the most incredible studio I’d ever seen. The one in the other house was magnificent and I’d used sculpting as therapy, which had been a godsend. But this, this was a place that would rival any professional sculptor’s studio.

  “Oh, God.” I cupped my hands over my mouth as I turned in a full circle. He’d thought of everything including a more sophisticated potter’s wheel, so many supplies I could lock myself into the room for weeks. There was a sink and cleaning location, a bathroom off to the side, a refrigerator and microwave and some of the best lighting in the business.

  Plus, there was a stereo system that I was certain was state of the art and some of the most incredible views of the Atlantic Ocean I’d ever seen. There were even industrial aprons hung on hooks on the wall. The person he’d hired had thought of everything.

  This was my personal slice of heaven.

  “What do you think?” he asked almost sheepishly.

  I didn’t answer him right away, moving toward the hooks. I grabbed an apron as I kicked off my heels, tying the sash as I moved to the wall full of supplies. “You don’t even know how this works.”

  He laughed softly as he walked further inside. “No, you’re right. I am a virgin when it comes to this.”

  I gave him a heated look and dragged my tongue across my bottom lip. “Not for long. Why don’t you find some sultry music while I set up the wheel?”

  “Why, yes, ma’am.”

  “I could get used to that.”

  “Don’t bother.” He continued to chuckle lightly and headed to the stereo system.

  I watched him for a few minutes before preparing everything for the wheel. I had so many choices of clay and glazes that my head would spin. The fact this was for me, the house and the studio meant so much. More than I could probably find the right words for.

  When everything was ready, I took a deep breath.

  The music he selected was something Spanish, the lilting guitar evoking such passion inside of me. I sat down on the bench, making myself comfortable and adjusting everything to the desired height.

  “Where should I stand?” he asked.

  “Oh, no. Wrap those big legs around mine. You need to see my technique up close and personal.”

  He was grinning like some kid but followed my orders, wrapping his big body around mine. I allowed the music to slide into my soul, closing my eyes for a full minute before beginning. It was perhaps one of the best feelings in the world to have my hands covered in clay, the water feature helping make it soft and pliable while not allowing the lathe to become overheated.

  For at least five minutes, he remained quiet, but his breathing against my neck was ragged. When I stopped, he exhaled as if he’d been exercising.

  “You are amazing. You’ll need to explain your technique at some point.”

  I turned my head slightly. “Nope. I’ll show you in a different way so you can feel what I feel.” I could tell he was confused as hell. “Put your hands on mine.”

  The larger-than-life man seemed taken aback but did as I requested. I’d never felt him so timid before, so out of his comfort zone.

  “Here we go. Just keep your touch light. Feel the art through me and the music.”

  As I flipped it on again, the feel of his hands on mine was powerful. For several minutes, there was only the music, the feeling of the wet clay, and the rapid beating of our hearts.

  I could tell he was so enthralled, breathless as he allowed me to train him. There was nothing more sensual than being with him this way, completely unabashed, spending time creatively.

  As I guided him into taking more control, he was delighted in his early efforts, even gasping with happiness as a vase came into form.

  The music.

  The vibe coming from both of us.

  The heat that always built when we were close.

  The hunger for more passion.

  They were all things that we were experiencing together. And there were so many more emotions.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  “You’re doing well. You might have an alternative career in this.”

  “Not the sculpture but you. My lovely bride.”

  It was either finish the vase or allow the clay to fall. I chose the latter. We could create a thousand more pieces when he wanted.

  As soon as the wheel was off, I turned around to wrap my arms around him.

  “Hey,” he teased. “Don’t get those dirty hands all over me.”

  “Good thing I noticed you put our honeymoon clothes in the car. Huh?”

  “Little snoop.” He wasted no time pulling me from the bench, both of us tumbling to the gorgeous wooden floor. As we both laughed, I pushed his arms over his head, intertwining our fingers together.

  And I allowed myself to envision the last few weeks.

  In any couple’s life, there was so much to deal with. Love. Passion. Anger. Anxiety. Tragedy. Triumph. We’d already experienced them all but remained stronger than before.

  In my mind, I remained the luckiest girl in the world. It was something I’d never forget, even if our relationship started on a very rocky road. Still, the moment I’d allowed my guard to fall, to feel all the warm and gushy sensations of how I felt about him was the moment my life had changed.

  Because of a brutal man in ten-thousand-dollar attire and a killer smile.

  Aleksander was my rock.

  My savior.

  My hero.

  And the man I’d fallen head over heels in love with. Together, we could face anything.

  What could be better?

  The End

  AFTERWORD

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