Vaska shook his hand but did not rise. “Olezka, you know I do not conduct business in front of mixed company,” he said smoothly with a pointed look in my direction.
The man called Olezka gave me a dismissive onceover. “She is just a woman, what does a woman care of men’s business? Besides, this cannot wait, Vasili. I promise you. There is a cargo ship docked in the Caspian with thirty cases of IST-12.7 Mubariz sniper rifles meant for the Ministry of Defense of Azerbaijan. There is an opportunity to seize them for ourselves for a tidy profit.”
Vaska rose and grabbed the enormous man by the upper arm. Olezka was so shocked the charred cigar stub dropped from his mouth. Vaska whispered harshly to him in rapid-fire Russian. The man paled. Olezka stepped back to the table and bowed his head in my direction. “Please accept my apologies for offending you. It was disrespectful and wrong.” His beady black eyes gazed intently at me, fear evident in their small depths. My stomach clenched. I had the strangest feeling that some harm would come to him if I didn’t accept his apology. I glanced over the man’s shoulder at Vaska. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw tight. It was obvious he was pissed.
“It’s… fine… really,” I stammered, alarmed at the possible pending bloodshed.
Olezka immediately breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Enjoy your dinner.” He turned and bowed deeply to Vaska and then left without another word.
Vaska sat back down and casually returned his napkin to his lap.
“Was that just—”
Vaska cut me off. “It was business. Nothing more. It should not have been discussed in front of you.”
“But—”
“Mary. No more questions. I mean it.”
The uncomfortable reality that I had just witnessed a criminal exchange made me lightheaded. It was one thing to half-jokingly think you are dating a mafia man; it’s another to be confronted with the reality of it.
The maître d’ approached the table with our wine. I ran the tip of my finger over the emerald eyes of the panther as I watched the maître d’ display the bottle for Vaska’s approval before removing the cork and pouring a small taste into a glass. Vaska swirled the rich red liquid in the glass before he inhaled, then tasted the wine. He nodded his approval. With a clap of delight, the maître d’ poured us each a glass.
A server brought over an orange fondue pot filled with warm Swiss Gruyere cheese followed by another server who situated a small platter of fruits, vegetables, and breads between us. Finally, we were left alone. Vaska lifted the lid off the pot and skewered a piece of strawberry. He dipped it into the gooey cheese and held it a few inches from my mouth. “Open your lips,” he commanded.
My eyes glanced around the room. With the dim lighting and heavy drapes, it felt almost as if we were alone. Although I knew he wanted me to taste the strawberry, there was definitely a sexual undercurrent to his demand. Unable to refuse, I opened my lips and closed them over the sweet and savory bite, slipping my lips suggestively down the skewer before leaning back and slowly chewing.
Vaska growled in response. I had hit my mark. Two could play at this game.
I touched the pin, and thought back to that man’s rude interruption, a reminder of the blood-soaked money that had probably bought this jewelry. “I don’t care what you say, I’m only going to wear these during dinner, then you are taking them back whether you like it or not.”
Vaska skewered a piece of pumpernickel bread and dipped it into the sauce. As he lifted the skewer, he expertly spun it to coat the bread with the drips of warm cheese before raising it to his mouth. “I’m looking forward to seeing you try and make me.” He winked and then snatched at the piece of bread with his sharp white teeth.
Before I could reply, a gorgeous woman approached our table. The smell of aerosol hairspray and strong rose-scented perfume hung about her like a noxious cloud. Her unnaturally bright red hair was piled high onto the top of her head in a messy twist. Heavy gold hoop earrings weighed down each earlobe as her wrists rattled from all the various gold bangles on them. She was dressed in a skintight zebra print dress that barely covered her ass and definitely didn’t contain her enormous breasts, which were spilling out of the top.
She smiled at Vaska. “Hello, baby, did you miss me?”
Chapter 16
Vaska
Admittedly I’d done a great deal in my life to deserve God’s vengeance. I just never thought he’d have a sense of humor about it. First, Olezka had barreled in practically screaming to Mary that I was a criminal, and now Karina, the paid escort I used to fuck, had turned up.
Karina sidled up to me and tried to stroke my hair. “You’re not still angry at your Karina, are you, baby?”
Angry about her trying to cut off my nuts with a knife in a drunken rage? Yeah, a little. Ever since meeting Mary, I now knew there was the fun kind of crazy that kept you guessing and always challenged and excited you. Then there was Karina’s type of crazy, which was crazy wrapped in a psychotic bow with no redeeming benefit.
I snatched her wrists and pulled her off me. “Karina, you are interrupting.”
She cast a glance in Mary’s direction. Her upper lip lifted in a sneer. “You can’t be serious about wanting to fuck her? Come on, baby. I’m sorry about the whole knife thing. How can I make it up to you?”
She ran her hand up my thigh; I caught it before she could catch hold of my cock. What the hell had I ever seen in a woman like Karina? Between her and Mary, I couldn’t even imagine the appeal. Mary was fiery and intelligent. You never knew what she was going to say or do. I loved that about her. She was also beautiful and passionate and warmhearted. Karina was all flash and no substance.
Mary tossed her napkin onto the table. “Perhaps I should leave you two alone?”
“No,” I ground out.
“Yes,” jeered Karina.
Mary rose.
I growled, “Don’t even think about it. Sit down now.”
Her eyes widened, but she obeyed.
Turning my attention back to the cloying Karina, I said, “And as for you. It’s over. It’s been over for a while now. Never approach me again without permission, or I’ll have you whoring in the slums of Moscow before the end of the day. Do you understand me?”
Karina pouted and stomped her foot. “But baby!”
“Get out of my sight, now.”
Turning to Mary, she said, “He’ll be back. You are not woman enough to keep a man like Vaska happy. Only I am,” before stomping off.
The maître d’ hurried over to our table with an apology for the intrusion. I waved him away without a word, keeping my entire focus on Mary.
I rubbed my jaw, watching her as her gaze settled on anything else in the room but me. As much as I had tried to deflect, she had a point. What the fuck was I thinking taking her to the same restaurant I had taken other women to? I should have anticipated a run-in with someone from my past like Karina. Mary was special and should have been treated that way. She deserved better from me and from this point forward she would get it.
“Mary…”
Her gorgeous eyes filled with tears. “Please, just take me home.”
“No.”