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“We’re having visitors from Russia the day after tomorrow. It’s best to be prepared for some decorum.”
She straightened. “Who’s visiting?”
“Sokolov and his nieces.”
“You want me to entertain your guests?” she asked in surprise.
I didn’t want her to, but she had to. Hiding her from Sokolov without the excuse of it being a Bratva gathering would raise suspicion. He would think that I was trying to keep Katya hidden from him.
“You said this is your home,” I reminded her. “Unless you think you’re not up for it?” I let the question hang.
Her back went ramrod straight. “I can handle a few posh Russkies,” she said in a bad Russian accent.
“They’re from St. Petersburg and like all Russian Bratva women, Sokolov’s nieces will be all dolled up. Since you represent my Bratva, I expect you to dress accordingly.”
“I should be equally dolled up, you mean?” She fluttered her eyelashes in exaggeration.
I fought a grin. Katya was one of the rare people who could make me smile. I was glad to see that our strained relationship hadn’t killed her humor.
“Why don’t you and that blue-haired boy go shopping tomorrow?”
She rolled her eyes. “His name is Tommie, and don’t let him hear you say he has free rein with your credit card. Before you know it, he will dressyouup. And it won’t just be in black, gray, and almost black.”
I imagined her in black. A color I never enjoyed seeing her in. It didn’t do her justice. Katya was vibrant. She was life.
“Don’t wear black.” The words escaped me before I could stop them.
I read the question in her eyes, but she didn’t voice it. She merely nodded. A strange feeling settled into my chest. There it was again—that unspoken connection between us. She got me.
I loved it.
I hated it.
She arched her back, massaging along her hips. My eyes clung to her pink tank top, which was tight around her breasts.
Our eyes locked. She swallowed. The monster inside of me, who always lurked just below the surface, awoke. I couldn’t pry my eyes off her for the life of me. For the hundredth time, the two devils on my shoulders fought each other for my attention. Neither advice was any good. Neither of them would result in Katya leaving this room with any clothes on, or perhaps even in one piece. Even though I could never hurt her body, her heart and soul were a whole different matter.
She licked her lips. “Kristoff…”
I heard the ache in her voice. It resembled my own need. I shoved down a groan and closed my eyes. I was close, so close to snapping. All I needed was one little push and I would go over the edge into the abyss, dragging her with me.
My phone rang and my eyes sprang open. I picked up the phone like it was a lifeline and avoided Katya’s gaze.
“Yuri, what’s up?” I heard something crash in the background.
“You need to come over to Viking’s, boss. He’s having one of his meltdowns.”
For once, Viking’s rage attack couldn’t have come at a better time. “What happened?”
“He kind of discovered he has a teenage daughter. I don’t think he’s taking it so well.”
Obviously. “Where is this girl?”
“At his apartment. Poor girl. She’s pretty shaken up. She keeps asking about her mom, Elena.”
Fucking Elena Morelli. She was like a pest.
“Send the girl over here. I’m on my way.” I looked at Katya. “It seems like we’re having an unexpected visitor tonight.”
