Chapter 21

Anton

"Is your room to your liking?" I asked my lovely little maid, after knocking and entering her chamber. It felt illicit to be in here. Exciting, even though the door had been open.

But Mishka was nowhere to be found.

I had found her looking around one of the spare rooms in the massive suite I had reserved for us. The rooms were empty and would remain so. My men were stationed at every exit, with their own suite nearby for rest and eating when they were on breaks. They didn't get much time off on trips like this, but they didn't dare complain.

In fact, no one in my employ had ever complained as far as I knew. If they had in my father's day, they would have lost a tongue. I vaguely remembered my father doing just that, though I was not sure what the offense was.

My men, and my brothers' men, were loyal, and not just because they were well paid. They were loyal because we were all steeped in blood. Some of them were blood. Distant cousins and the children of my father's men. Some were even the grandchildren of my father's men.

But I could not imagine anyone other than housekeeping who had not spilled blood for me, at least once.

We employed multitudes, always. Many of the families around the estate had worked for the Aslanov for generations. Our people had been loyal because of fear and self-preservation, especially in the old days. But sometimes, I liked to think, that my men actually gave a damn about me.

My brothers, too.

Unlike our father, we were known for being fair, even amongst the extreme violence that sometimes was part of the job. Often, really. Though my appetite for cruelty was waning these days. I used to pride myself on being cold hearted. But lately things were changing.

And it was all down to one beautiful little Russian doll.

"My room?" She asked, turning to face me. I nodded. "It is lovely, thank you."

"Are you sure? You look worried."

"I… I didn't realize we would be sharing."

I leaned against the doorframe, staring at her.

"Sharing what?"

"A suite."

"It's a big suite."

She nodded.

"It is. I will stay in my room," she said, more to herself than to me. "Unless you need me," she added hastily, as if she had forgotten I was there.

I smiled at her, hoping I didn't look threatening.

"I will let you know."

She blinked.

"I will let you know if I need you," I amended. "Have you seen the terrace?" I asked.

She shook her head and I held out my arm to show her the way, so that she had no choice but to obey my unspoken command. She passed by me and I smelled her intoxicating scent. She smelled of soap… lotion… and warm skin.

I joined her as we walked through the suite, which was as big as a medium sized house, and took almost the entire floor of the hotel, plus the additional outside rooms for my personal staff.

The terrace was on two sides of the suite. The view of the city was unparalleled from this height. No one could see us as we were in the tallest building in view. We could have sunbathed naked if we liked, though I might be wary of that in the days of drones. But we could see everything.

The sky was still dark, with light just starting to filter through the tall buildings that stood below us in every direction. With the soft lights and glowing sky, the view was unforgettable. Just like the extraordinary woman standing beside me.

Her delicate hands rested on the thick stone that enclosed the sweeping terrace, complete with couches, a table with a flame that leapt from it, chaises, and a dining area.

I could spend an entire day with her on that terrace. A night, too. Talking, eating, drinking… making love under the stars. I forced myself to change the stream of my thoughts.

"Do you want coffee and breakfast? Or shall we start shopping?"

She looked over her shoulder at me.

"Whatever you wish," she said, making me think of that line from the Princess Bride. But she was not the farm boy. She was the Princess. I was the one who was in love with her. I wished to serve her.

She had only to give me permission to adore her and our entire dynamic would change in an instant.

"I will see if there is coffee for us."

"I will go," she said quickly, passing me before I could stop her.

"Bring yourself one, too," I called out. "We are not in Moscow."

She glanced back, nodded, and curtsied.

I wondered if she would always do that. Even if she was my woman. When she was my woman, I corrected myself. When she was my wife.

I had been thinking along those lines a lot recently. I wanted forever with her. I wanted to make things official.

She would be my wife. I had no doubt about it. I could not allow any other outcome but total success.

Total domination.

Pure possession.

I was one of the best strategists alive. My brothers acknowledged it. Even my father sought my counsel on complicated issues.

I had an uncanny knack for seeing any given situation from multiple angles, all at once.

I could handle one little maid. One little, beautiful, innocent, maddeningly illusive, challenging, intelligent, sweet, and vulnerable maid. She was so much more than a maid, though calling her that helped maintain the illusion that I wasn't helpless. That I wasn't completely and totally in love with her.

Even though I was. I knew that I was. In the words of the surly American biker who had married our cousin, I was fucked.

Vice had been in a similar predicament, I recalled. Completely whipped, though that was not entirely evident to our runaway cousin. They had come from completely opposite worlds, not unlike myself and my little maid. Against all odds, he had won Anastasia over.

I should call him for advice, I thought suddenly. Or visit. I texted my business manager that the next stop on this journey was California. I had already been planning to take her to my place in Sonoma. We would visit my little cousin afterward, or invite them to the estate. She was newly pregnant, again.

A moment later Mishka walked towards me, her maids uniform slightly rumpled, bearing two steaming cups of coffee. She was nothing if not obedient. I watched her take a careful sip after she handed me my cup, trying to hide my smile.

"Is something the matter? Sir?" She added belatedly. That moment of hesitation before calling me sir was good. I wanted the lines between us blurred.

Permanently.

Though I would always keep the upper hand with my sweet little minx. Nature had intended it that way. The man protected and provided for his woman. He led her. She submitted to him. She gave him her heart.

I had never thought of such things before Mishka. But now I thought of them constantly. The sweet domesticity of drinking coffee with her struck me suddenly. Warmth spread through my chest at the idea of doing this with her every morning. Perhaps in our own home, something cozier than the massive estate.

A cottage by the sea…

"This is nice. Drinking coffee with you, instead of just drinking it near you," I joked.

Her pretty little mouth popped open, showing her surprise in an oh-so-adorable way. I resisted the urge to chuck her chin. It was maddening. Half the time I wanted to toss her over my shoulder and carry her to the bedroom, the other half I wanted to treat her like a child with a gentle kiss, or a firm spanking.

Down tiger, I told myself. Do not imagine that scenario too carefully. It would be harder to hide any… evidence of arousal standing here in the early morning light without a jacket.

"Are you ready to go shopping now?" I asked a moment later. Her expression changed to one of uncertainty. I nearly laughed out loud. Imagine a woman being reluctant to go shopping. A woman resistant to a man wanting to spoil and pamper her. It was hard to imagine. But there it was.

But I was going to spoil her, whether she wanted me to or not.

"Yes, sir," she said dutifully, if a touch reluctantly. I took her coffee cup with mine and carried both into the kitchen. I could hear the little click clack of her shoes on the marble floor as she followed me. I was smiling as I put the cups in the sink.

I turned to find her staring at me like I was an alien.

"What?"

Her mouth snapped shut. She said nothing. She looked stunned that I was able to carry a mug. I bristled a bit about that, deciding that I would have to impress her with my manly abilities. And soon.

"I do know how to take care of myself, Mishka. I like to relax my routine a bit when I travel."

"Oh. I see."

I held out my arm for her.

"Shall we?"

She hesitated for a moment, then took my arm. My security team was waiting outside. Four of them fell into step around us as two others moved to take their places protecting the suite while we were gone.

We moved swiftly through the hotel lobby and outside, where additional security was waiting for us by the vehicles. I could tell Mishka was taken aback by the amount of security, but she would get used to it. My brothers and I had several private islands around the world that allowed for complete privacy with security off site, as well as some mountain homes with security that allowed for the appearance of total privacy, even though it wasn't truly the case.

I could not wait to take her to all of these places. I wanted to spoil her. I wanted to show her the world, and I would. Starting with Saks Fifth Avenue, I thought with a smirk, trying not to stare too long at her curves as she slid into the limo in front of me.

"Ready?" I asked as the limo drove up fifth avenue.

She gave me a nervous look. Then nodded. I smiled even wider.

"Little liar."