"Keep me updated on this." He tapped the door frame before leaving. Out in the cool fall night, he slipped into the backseat after telling his team he was ready to go home. It was a twenty-five minute drive to the sprawling estate he'd recently finished building on the outskirts of Houston. The large secluded lot sat in a gated enclave that housed a handful of obscenely wealthy Texans.
Though he had a rather swanky penthouse suite in the best building downtown, he found that he rather craved the quiet solitude of the mansion he'd built. Only a few rooms in the place were fully furnished and decorated and he still needed to hire a staff but he didn't mind. There was something peaceful about its emptiness and unfinished state.
In many ways, the house was much like him. Empty and unfinished but waiting to be filled. Where the house needed furniture and art and rugs, he needed one thing and one thing only to make his life complete—the love of a good woman.
His work cell phone started to ring. He fished the black phone from his pocket. It was Anna, his executive assistant. If she was calling this late at night, it wasn't good. "Yes?"
In fast-paced Russian, Anna laid out the problem. "Someone leaked a copy of the environmental report. There is a media firestorm over it. My contact on the planning committee says there's a good chance the pipeline approval is going to fail."
Yuri bit back a curse. The pipeline arcing across Europe was an absolute necessity. "When do they vote?"
"Tuesday morning."
He pinched the bridge of his nose. The last thing he wanted to do right now was jet off to Europe to schmooze and negotiate. "We'll leave in the morning."
"I'll send the details to you as soon as I have them."
Annoyed by this hiccup in his grand plans, Yuri pocketed his phone and rubbed his tired eyes. He'd thought this whole deal was in the bag but apparently not. No doubt this bump in the road was going to cost him but he'd be damned if it interfered with the date he'd already made with Lena. It would be a tight schedule flying over and back before Monday night but he'd make it work. For her, he didn't mind burning the jet fuel.
He used the rest of the drive to send emails to the team handling the pipeline negotiations and to study the quick itinerary Anna had dropped into his inbox. Of all the assistants he'd ever had, Anna was the only one who could keep up with him. Often, she was two steps ahead and prepared for any possibility.
He'd found her through a headhunter. She'd come highly recommended and he'd known within a few minutes that she was the new assistant he needed. Their shared language and background made it easy to work with her.
Though he'd intended to groom her for a move to a VP spot, she'd made it clear earlier that year that she enjoyed her current position and didn't want the stress or drama associated with a new job title. He'd supported her decision but still held out hope that someday she would want to make the jump into a position where he knew she would shine.
They passed through the gates guarding the enclave and turned down his private road. In the circular driveway, the car stopped near the fountain so he could exit. Jake slipped out of the front seat and trailed him up the steps. Derek remained in the SUV that had been trailing them all evening.
Stepping inside his home, Yuri braced for the arrival of Sasha. On cue, the massive bear-sized Caucasian Ovcharka let loose a rumbling bark and bounded down the long hallway. His warning growl softened at the sight of his master. He skidded to a stop and plopped down in a well-trained sitting position.
Yuri rewarded the shaggy beast with a good scratch between the ears. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Feodor, the elderly mentor who had followed him from Russia, entering the foyer. Feodor was one of the few men Sasha tolerated and the only one Yuri felt comfortable leaving in charge of the dog.
After exchanging a few words with Feodor, he said goodnight and snapped his fingers to indicate that Sasha should follow. Fully aware of the pecking order in the house, the dog followed at his heel.
With a beast so large and ferocious protecting him, Yuri required complete obedience from the dog. In Russia, the breed was used to guard the most notorious prisons but they were also incredibly loyal and protective of their owners. Yuri found peace of mind in the idea that Sasha was always nearby.
Upstairs, he passed the long gallery wall where some of his favorite paintings decorated the space. More would be shipped in from his collections in London and Moscow. He paused in front of the piece he'd commissioned from Vivian last year. The little minx had charged him a damn arm and a leg for the painting but he'd happily paid it. There was no doubt in his mind he'd made a good investment. Someday her work would command outrageous prices.
He couldn't wait to invite her over to see where he'd placed her painting. She'd get such a kick out of seeing her piece between a Basquiat and a Galán. He'd thought it rather clever to sandwich her painting between two artists who had been huge influences on her style.
Inside his bedroom, he finally relaxed and kicked off his shoes. He dropped his watch and cuff links on their trays before moving toward his bed. Exhausted, he fell back on the plush mattress and closed his eyes. Sasha walked in circles, the tags on his collar jangling together as he searched for the perfect place to plop down on his comfortable bedding in the far corner.
Visions of Lena danced before his eyes. He wasn't sure where their relationship was going but he was all right with that. He looked forward to the journey they were taking together. These things couldn't be rushed.
In time, Lena would be his.
* * *
The annoying buzz of my cell phone rattling across my bedside table jerked me out of a deep sleep. Opening one eye, I glared at my alarm clock. Oh, Jesus! It was too dang early for this nonsense.
I grabbed my phone and glanced at the screen. My father's face greeted me. He never called this early—and it scared me. "Hello?"
"Mi'ja?"
"Dad?"
He let loose a relieved sounding sigh. "I was worried about you. I couldn't reach you last night."
"I was working and then I had a date." His end of the line crackled. "What's wrong with your reception?"
"Oh, it's—it's nothing, mi'ja. Listen, if Tommy comes around, don't let him stay with you girls."
I frowned and rubbed my tired eyes. "I never let Tommy stay here. Why would I start now?"
"Good. Keep it that way."
Something in my father's tone worried me. "Is everything okay?"
"It's fine." He hesitated. "You still have that gun I bought you for your birthday?"
My gaze flitted to the top drawer where it rested. Technically, he'd only given me the money for it and the concealed carry course I'd taken. With his record, there wasn't a gun store in Texas that would sell to him. "Yes. Why?"
"Just keep it on you, mi'ja."
My heart thudded into my throat. "Dad, what's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's nothing. I just—I worry about you."
"Dad…"
"I have to go. I'll call you soon. I love you, Lena."
"I love you, too, Dad."
The line went dead. I stared at my phone and replayed the bizarre conversation. Despite my father's ex-con history and his current illegal line of work, he'd always been a damned good dad to me. Unlike Vivian's father who had put her in harm's way again and again, Dad had given up the drug-dealing and gun-running for a safer criminal enterprise. His fencing operation had paid for me to attend the private high school where I'd met Vivian and Erin. As much as I hated the line of work he'd chosen, I couldn't deny that it had provided certain opportunities for me.