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Chloe laughed again as she headed to the coffee pot. “I’ve been there. Alek and I were together a long time ago, and the years in between were…let’s just say I was pretty tragic myself.”
There were stools lined up at the kitchen island, and they both took a seat once the coffee was ready.
“I hope you don’t mind decaf,” Chloe said. “I read that it’s safe for pregnant women to have a cup of regular coffee a day, but Alek worries, so…”
“Sounds like he worries a lot.”
Chloe must have picked up on something in Alice’s voice because she shook her head. “It’s not like that. I know that I’m making him sound completely overbearing, but he’s just got a tendency to take on all the problems of the world, you know what I mean? He bears the burdens of others, especially those that he cares about. He loves me so much that he can’t help obsessing about my well-being just a little bit.”
Alice was having a hard time reconciling the man that Chloe was describing with the heartless mafia boss that Roberts suspected of being behind crimes including drug trafficking, racketeering, and murder. Listening to her talk, the man was protective and caring.
Was she just blind to the truth? Or was Roberts wrong about who Alek Razin was?
The most confusing question she had was: could he really be a cold criminalanda loving partner to Chloe?
That was hard for her to believe.
Chloe’s phone rang, and she gave Alice an apologetic smile when she looked at the screen. “I’m sorry, I need to take this. I’ll be right back.”
She left the kitchen, and Alice continued to sip her coffee, already brainstorming ways that she could try to get into the office or master bedroom. If Roberts was already feeling the pressure to crack this case, the faster that Alice accomplished her task, the better.
The sound of footsteps drew her attention to the door of the kitchen. She was smiling, expecting it to be Chloe returning, but it was a man that strolled into the room.
Nickolay Kazak.
She recognized him from the packet that Roberts gave her. There were three whole pages with pictures and names of known associates of Alek. They were suspected members of the Bratva.
She’d made a point to memorize them, but the picture of Nickolay did nothing to show how attractive he was. With a broad chest and thick arms, his body could rival one of those Greek statues. He was just as chiseled but wearing an all black T-shirt, jeans, and boots.
His black hair was long but tied back, and he had the most captivating dark blue eyes that she’d ever seen. His strong jaw was covered with dark stubble and he had full lips that stretched into a smirk.
“Hello,” he said, tilting his head to the side as he studied her. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Are you a friend of Chloe’s?”
“Oh, no. I’m Alice, the new housekeeper. Are you Alek?”
She knew the answer to that question, of course, but it occurred to her that she had to play dumb.
“I’m Nickolay, a family friend.”
He came to stand at the other side of the island, and she wondered if he was intentionally keeping his distance to make her more comfortable. The man was big, and despite his grin, there was something about him that felt dangerous. She didn’t think it was just because she knew what Roberts suspected of him, It was something about the sharpness of his gaze, as if he was assessing for a threat, or the way he moved, with the smooth grace of a predator.
The dangerous aura of his should have been a red flag, but it strangely made him more attractive. She felt a flutter in her stomach that shocked her.
“Nickolay? That’s an interesting name,” she said, trying to keep the conversation going. Finding evidence wasn’t the only way to bring down the Bratva. If she found one of their own that could be turned, that would get the job done. But it required getting to know Alek’s associates to assess their potential willingness to work with the FBI.
“It was my grandfather’s name. It’s Russian.”
“You don’t have a Russian accent.”
“I was born here. My parents and aunt moved straight to this city from St. Petersburg before I was born. I don’t even speak the language.”
Alice found herself watching his lips move as he talked. Blinking, she mentally chastised herself and met his gaze again. Amusement shone through in his dark blue eyes, and she was sure that she was blushing.
What the hell was she doing? Staring and blushing and clenching her thighs together when he allowed his own eyes to wander down to her chest?
She was a professional, here to bring down the Bratva, not get turned on by a stranger that was likely a criminal.
“Well, now that I’ve told you half of my life story, I’m just going to grab a beer.”
