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Sofia
SEPTEMBER
Having spentmy entire summer in running shoes, wearing heels again felt almost alien. The dress I’d gone shopping for with my mother earlier in the week was also a nearly foreign sensation since I’d only worn jeans and T-shirts for months. But my legs were more toned from waiting tables at Aggie’s and serving drinks at Hannigans’.
The short skirt of my black dress and my red heels showcased just how amazing my calf muscles looked. I stepped out of the limo after my parents exited the vehicle then slid my hand through my father’s free arm as he escorted my mother and me inside the charity gala my mom had spent the summer planning.
Around us, cameras were flashing from every direction, making it feel like we were on the red carpet at some celebrity award show. No awards would be handed out this particular evening. Every person in attendance was there to write big fat checks for the women’s shelters throughout the city. Not necessarily out of the goodness of their hearts, but because it made them look good in the press—and they got to write off the generous donation on their taxes.
I’d rarely made an appearance at these events in the past. They had always seemed boring and unworthy of my time, something I now suspected had hurt my mother’s feelings. What did I care about strangers in need when my head had been high in the clouds, everything I could possibly want at my fingertips?
Thankfully, Raven Reid and her family had pulled me back down to earth—and forcefully extracted my head from my ass. After working several shifts at Sanctuary, the women’s shelter run by Gracie Hannigan and her son, Jack, I’d gotten firsthand experience of what went on inside those safe havens for desperate women in need. Now I would do anything to assist those who sought nothing more than a warm bed and a secure place to sleep through the night. Not just for themselves, but many times for their children as well.
“I’m so thrilled you came with us tonight,la mia dolce bambina,” Mom murmured with a huge smile as she and I posed for a picture for one of the biggest society papers in the city. “I want you to know how proud I am of you. After everything that happened at Theo’s wedding, I was worried. But when you got home last week, I swear, it was like you were a new person.”
I slipped my arm around her waist and smiled down at her. “I am a new person, Mom,” I assured her. “Raven and her family taught me many lessons, but mostly, they made me look inside myself. And I didn’t like what I saw.”
Tears filled her brown eyes. “That’s my fault, Sofia. I did a poor job of raising you the way I should have. Maybe—”
“Hush,” I instructed, shaking my head at her. “You did an amazing job. You and Dad are great parents. It was me, not you.”
Dad came up behind us after one more picture was snapped. “I think we should finally go in,kotyonok,” he said, kissing the top of my mother’s head.
Inside, the place was bustling with people who had more money than they knew what to do with. My mother was all too willing to take every cent they had for her charities, and with tickets at five thousand per person, they all knew it too. Room after room was set up with silent auctions of items Mom had twisted arms and conned out of companies to “donate” to the event. But the auctioned items weren’t the only attractions.
Open bars were set up in each room. The grander the prizes, the better the alcohol in that particular room. Multiple live bands were playing, ranging from pop to rock to classic orchestra. Canapés on platters served by women in skintight black pants and matching tops were circulated throughout the entire event, while the sound of champagne waterfalls offered an oddly soothing ambiance in the rooms where the live bands weren’t performing.
Many would look at the event and think very little of the money raised would go to the charity it was supposedly for. But my mother had a gift, which she exploited unashamedly. Everything had been donated, so the fees for the event itself were minuscule, and she always paid those out of the trust fund her father had left her. Meaning that the women’s shelters throughout New York were all about to have an influx of funds they could put to good use.
Taking a glass of champagne from a server, I sipped at it as I wandered from room to room. I’d lost both of my parents to a small crowd not long after we’d walked through the door, and with security so tight, I was given the freedom of enjoying the event without a half dozen men in suits following me, drawing too many curious eyes.
Walking into one of the auction rooms, I saw the armed guards first, then the pieces of jewelry they were guarding. Table after table, I passed pieces that were pretty, but I either already had something similar at home or they just weren’t my style.
But then I got to the back of the room and stopped with my flute of expensive bubbly halfway to my mouth when I saw the emerald necklace. Diamonds were interspersed along the chain, but the centerpiece was the most exquisite emerald I’d ever laid eyes on. Slowly, I lowered the glass of champagne without taking a drink, placed it on a table, and stepped closer.
I could feel the two guards on either side of the display sizing me up, but I paid them no mind as I bent my head to read the information card. The diamonds had been mined in Siberia, but the emerald was from the Ural Mountains. Other than my parents and brother, few people knew that my favorite gem was emerald. Typically, the ones I wore were from Colombia, but the one before me right then was more beautiful than any I’d ever seen before.
The company that had donated the necklace was listed as anonymous, but others had bid on it, and the price was already seven figures. I skimmed my finger wistfully over the glass case it was inside and quickly reminded myself I wasn’t the same girl who would have run to my father to beg him to buy it for me. I had plenty of jewelry at home. I didn’t have the personal funds to purchase it myself, given how high the bid already was, and I wouldn’t until my trust fund was released to me on my twenty-fifth birthday. Until then, I’d promised myself I would only buy what I needed with money I earned myself.
Glancing longingly one last time over my shoulder, I turned away—
“Easy,dragotsennyy.” Strong arms locked around my waist before I collided with a hard, rock wall of muscle, locking me against a body that was so warm I was helpless not to melt against him.
In a daze, I lifted my lashes to look into a pair of golden eyes that were so clear my breath felt trapped in my lungs for several seconds before I was able to expel it. It was like falling into a vat of the clearest, warmest honey. I loved honey. That slightly spicy, fruity mixed with nutty taste that hit the taste buds in a way that sent a shiver down my spine at how delicious it was.
Then his subtle accent hit me, along with the Russian endearment for precious, and my entire body seemed to go up in white-hot flames. That was before I fully took in how masculinely beautiful he was. Chiseled jaw and sculpted cheekbones. A chin with just a hint of a cleft. His short hair had several shades of brown and mahogany scattered within it, enthralling me as the overhead lighting caught each one.
The scent of his cologne filled my nose, and my knees literally went weak for a moment. Sucking in a breath I prayed would calm my overactive body, I pasted on a smile, but it felt weak to me. “Sorry. I was so enchanted by the Ural emerald necklace that I wasn’t watching where I was going. Thank you for stopping me from ending up on my ass, with all of New York seeing what color panties I may or may not be wearing.”
Those gold eyes glittered down at me, but he clenched his jaw so hard a muscle began to tick in his cheek. “Are you telling me you are not wearing panties,dragotsennyy?”
“Sir,” I gasped, feigning outrage, but gave him a flirty wink. “I don’t even know your name. My mother would shoot us both if I told a complete stranger that I wasn’t currently wearing underwear.”
His eyes closed as he whispered something under his breath I didn’t hear, but from the sound of it, it was savage. I liked his reaction, maybe a little too much, which was why I leaned into him a little more and lowered my voice. “More often than not, I don’t wear panties,” I confided and felt something hard as steel flex against my abdomen. Sweet Jesus. From the feel of it, he was in the XXL cock category. “They’re just too much of a nuisance if you ask me.”
I watched his Adam’s apple bob, and I fought a grin, even as my thighs became saturated from the effect he was having on my body. Placing my hands on his biceps, I told myself not to squeeze to see how hard they were before pushing back against his hold on my waist. “Thanks again for saving me from embarrassing myself.”
Instead of releasing me, he tightened his hold. “Maybe I should keep you close. Just in case you have another near incident. I’m sure neither of us wants all of New York to see your bare pussy.”
