Chapter 36

Mishka

"What do you think?"

I glanced at the man sitting beside me. We had just pulled into the driveway leading from the private landing strip. It was all part of the Aslanov brothers California estate. It was remote and private, sitting on a large plot of land with cliffs that overlooked the sea. He had assured me that they owned multiple properties all over the world, but that he himself had properties that his brothers did not share.

It might seem crazy, but seemed that he was competing for my approval, though there was no one present in the limo with us to compete with. It was so strange. Like a lion trying to win a country mouse. Everything about his world was so outside my range of experience, but that did not interest me. It did not speak to my soul.

I was far more dazzled by his taste in music and art, by his surprising, often hidden, kindness and compassion…. Those things were wooing me far more than his wealth. Though the level of luxury and the experiences that wealth provided was obviously impressive. Much of what he had shown me was wondrous and enjoyable, at the same time as being strange and almost frightening.

I did not need that wealth to be happy. To enjoy his company. In the short time since our relationship had transformed into a whirlwind romance, I had caught myself wondering if I might be more happy with him if he was an ordinary man. Just a brilliant, handsome, simple man who held my hand and fed me hot dogs from a street vendor in a park.

Back to reality, Mishka. Anton is many things. But simple is not one of them. But perhaps, neither are you.

I stared out the window, trying to calm my thoughts as he continued talking. He was telling me how their father had his own properties, which they all avoided unless summoned directly. I turned and saw something unusual on his face. A tension in his shoulders and jaw. He squeezed my hand and stared at me. The haunted look in his eyes had told me there was more to that story, but I didn't pry. If he wanted to tell me, I knew he would. Right now, he was in a mood I had never seen before.

He seemed… almost nervous. Is he truly trying to impress me? Is that even possible? I wondered. Anton was one of the richest men in the world. As much as I was enjoying all of this, it was overwhelming. I did not need such an extravagant lifestyle. It was not something I had ever thought about or dreamed of.

Yet, here I am, I thought ruefully. I gave Anton a quick smile. He was watching me closely as I turned away again to look out of the window as we approached the grand house, or in this case, houses.

Unlike the sprawling estate outside of Moscow, this property actually included multiple houses. Three equal sized homes, similar but not identical, with several other buildings, including a stable, pool house, several guest houses, and an enormous structure that looked like an extremely fancy barn.

"The barn is for events" he explained. "Americans love rustic elegance. I find that I appreciate that style as well. There is a kitchen and staff lodging as well."

I turned to look at him.

"Do you actually host events here?"

His gorgeous lips quirked into a smile. How did a man have such pretty lips? I wondered. It should be illegal. It was certainly unfair. And I wasn't even counting those eyes of his or his outrageously long eyelashes.

"No. We do not. But it made sense to include it. We Aslanov's are a large family, with many relatives, though we do not like most of them."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. And my laugh made him smile like a child. He looked so relaxed when he heard that sound. So happy.

So… good.

How could he be capable of so much evil? I knew very well that he had killed, or instructed someone else to kill, many, many men. But he had also shown my father mercy and kindness. It made no sense to me. Perhaps that wasn't truly who he was. Perhaps the evil he had seen and done was a result of his upbringing. He had promised to tell me about his father…. I would never pry, but I did hope he would tell me some day.

I needed to understand the complex man who I had given my heart to… who I was about to give my virginity to, as well. The man who I was foolish, or brave, enough to trust with myself and my father's wellbeing and future.

For better or worse, he was in charge of my entire family. Our fates were entirely in his hands. I prayed that he would continue to be the best version of himself. With my father and myself, but with himself.

I prayed that he was brave enough to show the goodness inside his heart to the world.

Despite my inner turmoil, I was walking on air as we climbed out of the limo and stood on the driveway, facing one of the three enormous mansions that looked over the ocean.

From one coast, to the other, I mused. I had travelled over the widest part of the United States last night, in a private jet no less. Me, the simple girl born and raised on the outskirts of Moscow.

"Do you want to go inside and freshen up."

"No, thank you. It is so beautiful out here…" I trailed off, unsure what he had in mind for us. He always seemed to have a plan. I wasn't used to this easy-going version of him.

"Would you like to stretch your legs? They can bring us some food in the gazebo. It is one of my favorite spots to eat."

I looked at him, once again surprised by his consideration. He took my hand and kissed the back of it, before adding, "I know how much you like to walk."

I nodded and he spoke to one of the silent servants who had assembled outside to greet us. I smiled shyly at the staff. I was one of them, really. Or I had been mere days ago. But things had changed so much in that short time span. He was treating me like I was something else. Much more than a servant, or even a mistress. He was treating me like an honored guest. More than that.

He was treating me as if I was his wife.

"And eat," he said a moment later. I glanced at him. Then I laughed. He looked so mischievous. He was adorable. He smiled back at me, looking pleased with himself.

A shiver passed through me. Anton noticed and put his arm around me. I was instantly warmer, but the breeze coming off the ocean was chillier than expected. Anton had told me on the flight over that California was gloriously sunny, but that did not make the Northern part of the ‘Sunshine State' warm.

"Would you like a wrap?"

I nodded again and he asked a servant to fetch one from our luggage. He settled a cashmere cape over my shoulders a moment later. It matched the travel clothes I had changed into before takeoff. I marveled at his foresight. The man seemed prepared for anything at all times.

He brushed the hair out of my face and took my hand, kissing the back of it again. His touch did something so strange to me. It made me feel safe and exhilarated all at once.

He hooked my arm under his, placed my hand on top of his, and led me down a path towards the sea. The rolling lawn and herringbone brick path stretched for a long while towards the sea. It was not a short walk, and I was glad for it.

Although his jet was unbelievably luxurious, I was not a fan of being cooped up in any way. Back in Moscow I was often in our small backyard, or in a nearby park, or walking, when I was not helping Papa out in the shop, in school, or practicing my violin.

We took a wide semi-circle around the house. The landscaping here was different from the Moscow estate. Lusher, and less traditional. Less… constrained.

"Very American, is it not?"

I cast him a quick glance. How had he read my thoughts? How much could he see? How much did he know about what was in my heart and in my soul?

I could not let him know how hard I was falling for him. He already had the upper hand in our situationship. He was in control of my fate. If he knew that I was in love with him, would he lose interest? Would he take advantage of my love for him? I reminded myself that he was ruthless and cruel. Or he could be… though I had not seen evidence of it in some time.

Anton was a very bad man. Wasn't he?

Who was he really? Who was the smiling, laughing, teasing man beside me? The man who thought of my every comfort, desire, and need, way before I had a chance to hope or dream of the possibilities. Was this the real man, hidden beneath the terrifying, but incredibly seductive, exterior? I'd always thought of him as a criminal. Dangerous. Destructive. But he had shown me that there was much more to him. More than I could have ever imagined.

"My lady," he said with a sweep of his arm as we approached a gazebo. Servants were setting a table and preparing food on a rolling tray nearby. I climbed the steps up onto the platform and gasped.

The ocean spread out in every direction. I had known it was there, of course. You could see a swatch of blue all the way from the driveway. And yet, it had not prepared me for the vision before me. Just raising my elevation slightly had put the panoramic view on steroids. The color was different than the Atlantic Ocean, or any body of water I had seen before, I realized.

It was simply more. More blue. More wild. More free.

It was unbelievable.

He slipped his arms around me from behind as we stared out over the water. I leaned back into his warmth as he pressed a kiss against my head. How could a man who had killed dozens of people, maybe even hundreds, make me feel so safe and secure?

But he did. Somehow, he did.

"Hungry?"

I giggled and nodded yes. He took my hand and kissed it, then led me to the table, where we sat and ate a sumptuous meal of poached eggs with rich sauces, fruit, exquisitely prepared potatoes, and some smoked fish and sausage on the side.

I wasn't terribly hungry, though I did nibble a bit of everything and drink two cups of coffee. He teasingly asked me if I would like a Bloody Mary. I demurred.

I noticed that Anton did not eat much either. I tried not to worry about the waste of food and the labor of the chef and servants to set up the sumptuous, partially eaten meal overlooking the sea. I knew what my host, my owner, my captor, my soon-to-be lover would say.

He would say that there was plenty to go around. That our pleasure and enjoyment was not wasteful. That he could afford it. And that the servants were grateful for the chance to be of service.

I patted my lips with the napkin, and then he took my hand. He practically lifted me to my feet and kissed me, before leading me away from the cliff's edge. We strolled around the grounds towards the house, talking softly about nothing and everything.

We walked up the broad steps to his house.

I knew what would happen next. Not the details of course. But I knew that he would take me to his bed and make love to me for the first time.

It would be the first time for us.

It would also the first time for me.

I wondered if he knew. I wondered if he cared. Perhaps that was exciting to him. Or if my inexperience was something he found tiresome, but not terribly important. Or if he did not care either way. If he simply wanted me, exactly as I was, experienced or not.

I exhaled shakily and looked around as we entered his home.

The entryway was as impressive as the entryway to his wing of the estate in Moscow, but lighter. Airier. There were no dark polished wood, amber glass chandeliers, or heavy brocade curtains. And his mood seemed to reflect that.

He was smiling as he lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

"Would you like a tour? Or to freshen up?"

"Both, please," I asked, not sure if I wanted to get my deflowering over with, or delay as long as possible. "Tour first."

He nodded, kissing my fingers. He gave me a brief tour of the house. ‘Brief' being less than an hour. The house was exquisitely lovely but nowhere as imposing as his main residence. I wondered if each home represented a different side of the enigmatic man, who was now leading me up the stairs of his house to the second floor.

This part of the tour was much quicker.

He didn't even stop to show me the guest rooms. He led me straight to ‘his' room. The master chamber.

He gave me an intense darkly heated look before tugging my hand so that I followed him into the enormous room.

He glanced back at me, then continued forward. I stopped; my eyes caught on the bed. He watched me, saying nothing. I exhaled and swallowed, giving him a small smile, before the unending swath of blue caught my eye. I walked towards a wide cushioned seat below a large picture window.

The ocean stretched in all directions.

"Oh, my goodness," I breathed as I stared out at the unobstructed ocean view. It was even better here than it was from the gazebo. It looked like a magical quilt of ever-changing shades of blue. Much brighter than the Atlantic. It was not as gaudy as the pictures I had seen of tropical waters, though I longed to see the bright turquoise water up close, just to see if it was real.

Anton must have sensed my fascination with the ocean, how drawn I was to see it, taste it, and touch it. I wanted to dive in, though it was far away and much too cold for swimming. It looked close enough to reach out and drag my fingers through it… though I knew it was an optical illusion.

He threw the windows open and I could smell it, the tangy freshness of the salt air, just as potent as it had been in the gazebo where we had eaten our breakfast. He stood there quietly, just beside me, watching me. I was almost afraid to look at him, but I did.

The look in his eyes was tender and hungry, soft and fierce, loving and devouring, all at once. The warmth he gave off made me catch my breath, then break out in goosebumps. I realized suddenly, that I would never be the same again. This was the moment where my life changed completely, once and for all, for better or worse.

There would be no turning back from this one moment in time.

"Are you frightened of me, Mishka?"

"No," I answered swiftly. And I wasn't. Not of him. Not ever again. I knew he would not hurt me. Not intentionally. I did fear his power over me. But not the man. Not the purity of his heart.

"Are you afraid of this?"

I shook my head. Even though I was. Not that he would physically harm me. I only worried about my heart. If I would please him. If he would please me, though I had less doubts about that. I worried about after… what was about to happen, happened.

"Good," he breathed, turning me to face him. He eyes were on my mouth for a heartbeat, then he was kissing me. It was a kiss unlike any we had ever shared. Maybe because we both knew where, and how, this kiss was leading us.

His lips were so soft against my mouth. The way his hands cupped my face, and the gentle pressure of his lips on mine was almost reverent. But within moments everything went wild. Suddenly he was crushing me against his chest, holding me tightly as his tongue ravaged my mouth.

I gasped at the rapid onslaught of his desire. The heat and urgency of his touch overwhelmed me. His touch washed away all my uncertainty. All my fears and doubts had no chance against the towering wave of his touch. The past and the future had ceased to exist. There was only this moment. There was only his body pressed against me, and the way my body, in turn, surrendered.

"Mishka," he rasped out, tearing his mouth from mine with a Herculean effort. "My God."

He lifted me into his arms and stalked towards the huge bed facing the bank of windows. The determination in his eyes made me shiver. The teasing smiles of the gentle giant were gone. This man was a warrior. A conqueror.

And my body would be his battleground.

He shifted my weight as we reached the bed, letting my legs slowly drop to the floor. My body slide against his in the most delicious way, creating friction and ramping up our desire. By the time my feet hit the soft cream-colored rug, I felt like a different woman. Not eve n a woman. I felt like my body was no longer flesh, but instead a different element altogether. I was made of liquid, no longer solid. Just warm, soft, and receptive to whatever came next.

To whatever he wanted to do to me.

What came next was Anton, staring at me hungrily while his hands made quick but gentle work of removing my clothing, kissing each inch of me as it was revealed. I shivered as he lifted each foot, removing my shearling lined cork clogs and cashmere socks. Then he tugged down the deliciously soft lounge pants I had worn on the plane. He dropped to his knees and kissed my bare belly softly, and I nearly fainted.

I stood there, exposed, in my bra and panties. The cool ocean air was blowing in and over my body, giving me goosebumps. But he quickly stood and warmed me with his big, strong body.

Now, I was shivering for a different reason. He kissed me again, molding me against his heat. The next thing I knew, he was laying me down on the bed, He undressed quickly, leaving his pants on, but unbuckled. I stared at him, trying to memorize the way he looked…

He was beautiful. Sexy. Loving. Anton was so handsome and darkly intense. So focused on me.

Just the look in his eyes was intoxicating. The gentle touch of his fingertips as they slid up my bare legs.

He shifted until he was above me, his body against mine for the first time horizontally, bracing himself on his muscular arms, pressing me into the bed. The weight of him did something to me. I felt feminine and desired in a new way. Protected. Possessed.

Every single one of my senses were heightened. I was all heart and body, emotion and sensation, but I could barely think. I could feel the wool of his slacks against my legs, his open buckle pressing into my belly for barely a moment before he reached down and pulled it away.

Now there was one less thing between him and me. One less barrier. One less obstruction.

No words were necessary. Not that I could concentrate on anything but the feeling of him. The scent of him. The heat of him.

Anton was my entire world at that moment. My entire universe. Nothing else existed.

He kissed me again, rolling to his side and bringing me with him. He ran his hand up my flank to my shoulder, then down over my back. His touch on my bare skin was so soothing. So healing. So exciting and new.

I had never felt this good in my entire life. Every inch of my body was alive with electricity. His skin felt like velvet and silk, rubbing against mine. I arched my back as his lips moved to my neck. His breath tickled my ear before he nipped the lobe and moved lower.

He rocked me onto my back, reaching behind me to unfasten my bra. He trailed kisses over my collar bone as he pulled my bra away. He paused, staring down at me.

"My God, Mishka," he whispered. "How can anyone be this beautiful?"

And just like that, I was no longer afraid.