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“We delivered the merchandise on time and in perfect working order. We met them in the open sea with damn gale force winds.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Those stupid bastards thought the Venuses were women—flesh and blood human women.”
“They thought what? Since when do we get involved in human trafficking or the sex trade?”
“Beats me, but they were pissed. We had a couple of stingers on board, so I added them and a case of whiskey to mollify them.”
Mischa threw back the last of his whiskey as the staff came in to set up dinner. “Thanks for handling it. Sometimes I really do wonder about those idiots. Do me a favor, though, and check around to see if anyone else thinks we’re involved in the flesh trade.”
“Will do,” said Valentin who suddenly seemed at a loss for words.
Mischa turned to follow his gaze. Simone was standing in the doorway looking refreshed and absolutely gorgeous. He suddenly understood the term thunderstruck. It seemed, like Valentin, he had lost the ability to speak.
Fuck Bacchus. Fuck the Russians. All he wanted on this earth was to fuck Simone.
CHAPTER6
SIMONE
She was to have dinner with her mate and his beta, Valentin. GiGi had packed several things for her to wear when she first met people who were important to Mischa. Having seen how casually people dressed, she’d asked one of the house staff who’d come to help her get settled in. The maid’s name was Nancy, and she was immediately enchanted with Kitty, who felt the same.
“She likes you. She’s really quite harmless, but when she rolls over on her back and bats at you with her paw, she wants a tummy rub.”
“She’s so beautiful,” said Nancy, stroking the silky fur.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course. Mischa has made it clear we’re to do anything that makes it easier for you. I don’t believe he underestimates the sacrifice you made to be with us.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” said Simone with a laugh that sounded far more light-hearted than she felt. “What do people wear to dinner? At my father’s vineyard, people are expected to dress in slacks and a shirt for men, and a skirt or dress for women.”
Nancy laughed. “You’d freeze if you did that here. Not here in the main house, but outside. Most everybody wears what’s comfortable—jeans, leggings, whatever. And mukluks, cowboy boots, riding boots. Just be casual. Everyone is looking forward to meeting you and having Kitty will be a great ice breaker. Do you need help getting ready? I’m pretty good with hair.”
Simone reached up and pulled at her hair. “Mine is so ratty and awful. My sister, GiGi, has hair to die for and it never appears to be out of place. Mine is just nuts and if the wind gets hold of it, I’m pulling out knots for days.”
“No worries. Sit yourself down. I am an ace at a French braid. We’ll have all that gorgeous hair of yours on its best behavior.”
It didn’t take Nancy long to get Simone’s hair pulled back in an intricate blonde French braid. Simone was enchanted. “This is beautiful. Thank you.”
“Do you know what you’re going to wear?”
“I think maybe jeans and a sweater. I can wear a pair of those short booties I brought with me.”
She thanked Nancy again and added some makeup to make the most of her features. She pulled on a pair of jeans that were a little too snug, but once she had them zipped up, she could actually breathe. Then she added a dark green, V-neck cashmere sweater and a pair of oxblood-colored booties. Glancing in the mirror, she decided for someone who’d just been sold to a virtual stranger and flown almost twenty-four hours from the only home she’d ever known, she didn’t look too bad. Not too bad at all.
At first, she’d been grateful not to have to face his pack on her first night here at Tangled Vines, but as she stood in the doorway, she began to regret that. The library was just that—three of the four walls lined with bookshelves with leather bound books and smallobjet d’ artsdecorating the shelves. The only open end was comprised entirely of glass—a set of large French doors flanked by sidelights and topped by an enormous arched window that encompassed the doors and the sidelights.
Even with all that light, Mischa seemed to be able to block out the sun. Not only was the man himself tall, broad shouldered and heavily muscled, his presence seemed to fill up every nook and cranny.
His beta stepped forward, “You look stunning, Mistress. May I say the alpha is a lucky man.”
She could feel the color suffusing her cheeks. “Thank you. Valentin, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed.”
Mischa stepped toward her. “I will second Val’s sentiments. You are even more beautiful than I remember you being.”
