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Before I thought it through, I had my phone in one hand and Aleksei’s business card in the other. I ran my finger over his embossed name and through tears, stabbed the number into my phone. I just wanted to hear his voice one last time. I took a few deep breaths while it rang, almost hanging up before the call went through.
Then his voice echoed in my ear, deep and still commanding even though he had no clue who was calling him. I shivered with heady anticipation and almost dissolved back into sobs again.
“Aleksei?” I had no real plan what to say.
Hearing his voice should have been enough, but I wanted more. Once again, he made me want so much more. A plan formed as I waited for him to reply. Sell him some more of my art, all of it if he’d take it, then disappear. My mother’s reach was far and wide, but I was clever and knew how she found the people who tried to get out from under her thumb. I also knew the kind of people who could get me a new identity for a price. I’d do everything right and live a life of peace and quiet, keeping my head down and painting on some deserted beach somewhere. It was futile, and I knew it. I really just wanted to hear his voice.
“What is it?” he asked urgently, the forceful tone laced with concern. “Are you all right?”
No, I wasn’t, but the fact he cared even a little bit eased the tight pain in my chest.
“Were you serious when you said you wanted to buy more of my paintings?”
“Yes,” he said. “Absolutely. Tell me where you’re at.”
God I loved when he told me what to do. No one ever made me feel that way, but Aleksei was a world of firsts for me.
“I’m still at the same hotel,” I sniffled. I couldn’t have him come here, though. My mom and Donny were sure to be out for hours, but it was stupid to risk it. “Can we meet somewhere else, though? I can bring the paintings.” They were already all carefully packed away from my mother’s judgmental eyes.
“Whatever you want, Theresa,” he purred. “I’ll send you the address.”
My legs went weak at the caress of his voice, and I slid onto the vanity table chair. “Okay.”
I held my phone to my ear for a few moments after the call ended, as if I could feel his heat coming through it.
“Get it together, Theresa. This is business.”
I fixed my face and hurriedly picked out my best pieces, lugging the case full of paintings downstairs. The concierge went out to get me a car, and I bobbed from foot to foot while I waited, eager, anxious, and with the delicious thrill of doing something naughty. The hired driver wound his way through the bright streets of Miami, finally pulling up in front of a high rise apartment building. A doorman hurried out to open the door for me, and once inside the art deco inspired lobby, a concierge offered to help me carry up my unwieldy case. When I gave him the number, he nodded.
“Of course, madam.”
The place seemed even nicer than my mom’s exorbitantly fancy apartment back in Boston. The halls were papered in a subdued geometric print, and the thick carpet absorbed the sound of our footsteps as the concierge led the way to the lone apartment on the highest floor. The big door had an old fashioned knocker on it, but the man pressed the button for the more modern camera, nodding once again into the viewfinder. When Aleksei pulled the door open, I only had eyes for him, barely noticing as the other man handed over my case and slipped discreetly back onto the elevator.
I was sure I had built him up in my dreams and imagination to be bigger and more handsome than he really was, but standing mere inches from me, in the flesh, I was wrong. He was all that and more. He took my breath away with his welcoming smile, just a touch of mischief in his sea blue eyes. So blue they rivaled the huge swathe of sky that showed through the wall of glass in his apartment. Everything was just the way I’d decorate if I had free reign. I could have had my own place in Boston, but since I was at my mother’s beck and call it was easier to stay in my suite at her massive apartment or if I really needed space, I headed to our country home for the weekend.
Aleksei’s sprawling apartment had modern glass and metal lighting shining down from the high ceilings, and sleek but comfy-looking gray and taupe furnishings that didn’t war with the glorious view that took up one whole side of the living area. The walls were decorated with an eclectic mix of old art deco posters, an impressive collection of big name modern art and some abstract pieces I didn’t recognize but moved to investigate.
“A friend of mine did those,” he said, coming up behind me, close enough I could smell his spicy aftershave. “She’s local, just does it as a hobby. But she’s good, no?”
She was, and I had an intense flurry of jealousy, wondering how good of friends they were. He took my hand and led me to a spot in the middle of the living area, pointing to a bare swathe of wall. “I need something new there.”
“I hope I have something you like,” I said.
“You know you do, Theresa.”
His hands moved to my waist, and he tugged me slightly back so that our bodies almost touched. All I had to do was lean a bit closer, and I’d feel what I’d been dreaming about. What I needed and craved. Instead, I cleared my throat and stepped out of his gentle grasp, turning to where he’d laid out my pieces on a long counter that separated the living space from the airy kitchen. Close to an innocuous bowl of fruit and a few architecture magazines lay a handgun, standing out stark and black against the pale marble.
I was no stranger to guns hanging around in all areas of a home, but it struck me how foolish I was being. Really, what was I thinking, coming here? It was a classic out of the frying pan and into the fire scenario. Trying to run from one deadly crime family and straight into the arms of another. I had a handle on mine, and was at the top of the food chain where it was usually safe. Why was I insisting on messing around with the Morozovs, one of the deadliest and most ruthless in the area, if the reports from my mother’s second in command back home were to be believed. I knew my mom wanted to get in with them to try to build her empire, but not like this. She wouldn’t approve of this at all. Especially not now that Aleksei was close enough to lean against again.
He noticed what caught my attention and with a soft chuckle, covered the gun with one of the magazines. Taking my hips, he turned me so I faced him, caged between his body and the marble counter. An actual rock and a hard place. He was so tall I had to tip my head back to look at him, the half-smile on his face combined with his deep blue gaze making me feel off kilter. More off kilter. What was it about him? I was just that desperate to make some quick money. That was what I was going with, anyway.
“I’m going to presume you did some research,” he said, nodding over my shoulder toward the hidden gun. “You know who I am and what I do.”
“I understand your life,” I said noncommittally.
He gave me a smile that weakened my knees. “I did a little of my own research into your family, so I know that you do.”
The only thing I wanted just then was for him to shut up and kiss me, and my weakness made me furious. This was not what I came here for. Certainly not to discuss my family life and the unsavory things we did.
