Nikolai 2 (Her Russian Protector #6) (6 page)

She sighed loudly. "Our dads really suck."

He chortled at her remark. He would have used a stronger word to describe the situation. "They do seem to enjoy making things difficult and dangerous for everyone."

"Is it worth it? All this trouble they're causing?" she clarified. "I mean, what are they going to get out of going to war with the cartel?"

He planned to use all the favors he could call in to avoid a war. He had a reputation for negotiating his way out of stalemates like these and hoped he could prevail upon Maksim and Romero to see the light. A war would be bad for everyone in the underworld.

"Money," he said finally. "It's always about money,
solnyshka
."

"Greedy bastards," she grumbled.

He laughed softly and kissed the top of her head again. "Do you think you can stand up now? We need to shower and change soon or else we'll be late for dinner with Bianca and Sergei."

"I just need to remember to move more slowly when I'm changing positions." She let him help her stand and humored him with a smile when he tugged her dress down over her head. He slipped her panties into his pocket and earned a frown. "Remember to put those in the hamper. I'm pretty sure Boy will die of embarrassment if my undies tumble out of your suits when he takes them to the cleaners on Monday morning."

He tried to imagine the look on the kid's face if he got a peek at the sexy little panties Vivian preferred. Of course, he hadn't missed the way the kid stared at her when he thought no one was paying attention. He couldn't blame Boychenko for wanting to look, but he trusted the kid knew better than to even think about crossing that line.

Upstairs, he joined Vivian in the shower. She had piled her hair high on top of her head to keep it from getting wet. She still hadn't shown off the tattoo in public yet, and the one on the back of his neck wasn't visible because of his shirt collars. He rather liked that it was something just for them and didn't mind that others hadn't seen them.

"Will you be all right in here alone?" He eyed her carefully. "Are you still dizzy?"

She poked his stomach. "You worry too much. I'm fine."

"I'm your husband." He kissed her temple and smoothed his hand along her belly. "It's my job to worry about you and the baby. When I married you, I swore vows to protect you and care for you. That means making sure you don't pass out in the shower."

Her expression softened. "I really am fine."

Taking her at her word, he exited the shower and grabbed towel. He rubbed his skin dry and wrapped the towel around his waist before heading for their large walk-in closet. He paused as he passed Vivian's racks of clothing and ran his fingers along the soft fabrics. It was a simple thing—a silly thing, really—but the sight of her things mixed in with his filled him with the most incredible sense of contentment.

She was here with him—in his house and in his bed—and shared his name. She was exactly where she was always meant to be. By bravely choosing to love him, with all his flaws and his sordid past, Vivian had given him something so precious. She filled his home with love and happiness and gave him a reason to be a better man.

He wasn't stupid enough to believe that he would ever be good. No, that fucking ship had sailed and sunk a long time ago. He wasn't like Sergei. He couldn’t be redeemed in that way, but he could be better. He would do anything to make Vee proud of him. Even now, he was using leverage and leaning on Romero to avoid bloodshed. A few cleanly executed hits would be quicker than negotiating, but he couldn't bear the thought of Vivian looking at him with mistrust and disappointment.

"Kolya?" The shower had shut off and he could hear Vivian opening vanity drawers.

"Yes?" He called out to her as he selected a pair of jeans and a lightweight shirt. Around the house, he was comfortable wearing a polo, but he didn't want to bare his arms at Bianca's home because he wasn't sure about the guest list.

"I got distracted earlier when you came home, and I forgot to ask you something."

He picked out a pair of Italian leather wingtip boots. "Oh?"

"Niels said that a journalist he met a few days ago asked him about a Russian woman who was coming to the show in London. He didn't recognize her name, and he wondered if she was someone from our social circle. Her name wasn't familiar to me."

"What was it?"

"Tatiana Melnikova."

The boots dropped from his hands and hit the hardwood floor with a thump.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes." He quickly recovered and snatched up his shoes. "I dropped my boots."

"Oh. So Tatiana? Do you know her?"

"No." Guilt squeezed his chest in a vise-like grip. Fuck.
Fuck
. Even though it would be easier, he couldn't lie to her. Swallowing roughly, he confessed more loudly, "Yes."

Boots in hand, he left the closet and found her standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Wrapped in her robe, she clutched at the labels and peered at him with confusion. "Why did you change your answer?"

Tossing his boots onto the closest chair, he expelled a noisy breath and rubbed the back of his neck. There was no easy way to say it. " Tatiana Melnikova isn't her real name. It's a fake. It's a name and an identity I bought for her. Her real name was Tatiana Filipova—and she was my fiancée."

Vivian's face slackened, and her delicate hand moved to her throat. "You… But…"

"It was before you, Vee." The look of betrayal etched into her beautiful face slashed at his heart. "Years before you ever came to Samovar," he hurriedly explained. "You were still in high school, and your grandparents were alive."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I didn't think you would ever find out
. But he couldn't say that. He couldn't admit that he had been hoping to never have this conversation with her. "She had to disappear. There was no reason to tell anyone about it. Besides it was a long time ago, Vee. She doesn't matter."

"You don't get to decide something like that unilaterally." Her sharp tone surprised him. "How would you feel if you found out I had been engaged to another man before you? That I had been planning to become his wife and have his children and build a life with him?"

Jealousy burned through him. Slashing his hand through the air, he insisted, "It's not the same, Vee."

Incredulous, she threw out both hands. "How?"

"Because I didn't love her! She was handpicked by Maksim to form an alliance with the a rival family. It was a way for Maksim and her father to align their interests. That's it. It was a practical decision."

"People might think you're describing our marriage."

"How?"

"My father and your father found a way to align their interests." She looked like she might start crying at any second, and it fucking killed him. "The night you proposed to me, you had been in meetings with the cartel and taking phone calls from Moscow. Did Maksim tell you to propose to me?"

"No! It wasn't like that for us."

"Are you sure?" She arched one dark eyebrow. "You asked me to marry you because you were catching heat from all sides. You gave me your name to protect me."

"I asked you to marry me because I fucking love you, Vivian." Irritated that she would even compare their marriage to the sham that he would have had with Tatiana, he snarled, "You are the only one—the only fucking one—I have ever loved.
Ever.
" He gritted his teeth and tried to maintain his cool. "Don't ever question my love for you. It's the one thing I won't abide."

"Then why did you lie to me just now? I asked you if you knew Tatiana and you said no."

"I panicked." He wasn't proud to admit it. "I haven't heard her name in years. That's a complicated and very messy chapter of my life that was supposed to be closed forever. Everyone thinks Tatiana Filipova is dead or that I had her killed. No one would dare to say her name in front of me. That's the way it needs to stay. Her new identity—Tatiana Melnikova—has no connection to mine."

"Why?" Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "For a man who says he didn't love her, you've gone to extremes to save her life and to avoid talking about her."

Just tell her. Tell her the whole ugly, sordid truth about Tatiana and be done with it.

But he couldn't. He had given his promise, and he never broke his word. Surrounded by a minefield, he had to tread carefully. "Tatiana was caught with another man," he added. "She humiliated me in front of my crew and in front of
krestnii otets
. In front of Maksim," he clarified, in case she had any question as to the godfather he meant. "Her father and mine would have killed her if I hadn't told Kostya to get her out of the country. Even if someone suspected she was still alive, she would be fucking dead to me and to everyone in this family and her own."

The anger faded from her face. Vivian held his gaze "I don't ask you questions about your other business, but when I ask you a question about something that impacts our marriage and our relationship, I expect you to tell me the truth."

His gut clenched. Though the urge to tell her everything about Tatiana and the reason she had run and how she had escaped her father's control was strong, he refused to pull Vivian into it. There were too many innocent people who could be badly hurt by the truth, including one person that Vivian loved dearly. He wouldn't put her in the position of knowing too much and having to choose whether to keep that painful secret.

"In the future, if you ask me about a woman from my past, I will tell you the truth." He couched his answer in carefully chosen words and silently prayed she would leave the topic of Tatiana alone. There was no good that would come from dredging up that ancient history and putting so many lives at risk.

She seemed mollified by his answer. "I'll tell Niels that she's an old friend of yours."

He shook his head. "Don't tell him anything about her. She won't be coming to the show."

"But the journalist—"

"She won't be coming to the show. I'll make sure of that." He intended to put Kostya on the task of tracking her down and giving her a warning. After he helped her escape, Tatiana had sworn that she would never contact him again. He intended to hold to her to that promise.

Vivian didn't seem happy about his instruction. "Fine. If that's the way you want to handle this."

"It is." Crossing the distance between them, he clasped her sweet face between his hands and grazed his thumbs along her cheeks. "Vee, in my entire life, you are the only woman who has ever managed to melt the ice around my heart." He touched his forehead to hers. "Whatever I had in the past doesn't matter. It's us, our marriage and our family that matters to me. I love you."

"I love you," she murmured, "but don't lie to me. I can't—I
won't
stand for it."

"Nor should you," he agreed. Knowing that he asked so much of her, he pulled back and gazed down into her eyes. "You've given me your trust, and you've accepted all the bullshit that comes with the bad choices I made before I met you. I don't take that for granted. I know what you've sacrificed to be with me."

There was so much more he wanted to say, but he couldn't find the words. Vivian caressed his jaw, and he saw understanding reflected in her sapphire eyes. He whispered his love for her before tenderly capturing her mouth. She surrendered to his seeking mouth and wordlessly forgave him. He didn't deserve her forgiveness, but he selfishly accepted it all the same.

Eventually they separated and dressed. He finished before her and went downstairs to choose a bottle of wine to take as a gift to their hosts. He had chosen his favorite Australian Shiraz from the collection in the butler's pantry when he heard heavy footsteps approaching from the adjacent dining room.

Glancing toward the doorway, he caught sight of Boychenko. By the looks of it, the blond kid had finally gotten the message from Arty about the expectations for the street soldiers. Instead of the T-shirt and jeans the kid had been wearing the last time Nikolai had seen him, Boychenko had paired a dark polo with khaki chinos and nice shoes. It was an improvement and a step in the right direction.

"Boss?"

"Yes?"

"One of your neighbors was at the back gate. The judge," Boychenko explained. "He says he needs to see you. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to let him inside so I left him in the garden with his dog."

Boy had only been on the house security detail for a short time, but he had quickly learned that Nikolai didn't like anyone who wasn't part of the family in his home. "I'll go speak with him." Gesturing toward the back of the house, he said, "Grab the keys to my Land Rover and pull it out of the garage for us."

"Yes, sir."

"And Boy?" The kid paused and looked back at him. "Artyom tells me that you're doing well on the street. You've done a good job here at the house and with Vivian." He leveled a stare at the younger man. "It's important to me that she's surrounded by people I can trust."

"I understand, boss."

He was sure the kid did. If Boy wanted to climb higher in the organization, he would earn his place much more quickly by proving himself trustworthy and willing to do whatever Nikolai asked of him. "Good."