Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

C hantel

Danger.

It had a particular feel to it. Tangible.

Ever growing.

And danger could sense fear a mile away. However, I was no action hero. I'd never even considered myself brave. But right now, that was very important so I could keep a level head. There was a strength to Nikolay I think I'd known instinctively as a child. He was contemplative, only his anger getting in the way every so often when someone dared to touch people he cared about.

Which was admirable.

His love of his son was something that told me all I really needed to know about the man.

He had integrity.

Which is why I was having such a difficult time separating fantasy from reality. We clicked. We hungered.

We'd indulged.

We were in dire straits and there was no denying it. What we were about to go through would take every ounce of bravery I could fake. But the man I… But Nikolay was here. I could count on him. I rose onto my tiptoes, kissing his lips.

"Aww…" A little voice said from behind us. "Butterfly kisses. They are good luck, Daddy. Mommy told me that."

I could see the light in Nikolay's eyes change. There was an instant sadness, a dash of anger, and a moment of joy as he nodded his thanks to me. I hadn't done anything but provide Damien with just a little sprinkle of magic dust so the tough steel armor he'd placed around himself could come down, the superhero inside feeling safe again.

With a boyish grin on his face as well, even in times of utter danger, the powerful and very merciless man with a brutal reputation halfway reacted like a kid himself, pulling away and crouching down.

I couldn't help but remain a voyeur, amazed such a tough dude could be a little softie. A marshmallow. Eventually, I would have my chance to tease him relentlessly.

If we lived.

I'd be damned if Damien didn't giggle and somehow, he'd dressed himself. I wanted to clap and jump up and down.

Even if the shirt was inside out.

I couldn't give myself high fives, but just the little boy being able to act like an intelligent four-year-old allowed my heart to sing.

Damien came running into his daddy's arms, giggling like any normal and very happy child would do.

I could tell Nikolay enjoyed the hug, taking just a little bit more time than I'm certain he wanted. When he pulled back, he playfully pinched Damien's cheek. "We are going to go on an adventure. Would you like that?"

"How?"

"Well, do you remember when I took you to the other beach house?"

Damien nodded.

"You loved it there."

The boy clapped his hands. "Building sandcastles."

I wasn't certain if Nikolay wasn't going to burst into song. "Exactly. I thought we'd go there for a couple weeks. Would you like that?"

I could see Damien clearly, his contemplation including a scrunched-up face. "Only if Chantel comes." Then he folded his arms as if being stubborn.

Nikolay peered up at me. "I assure you, little man, Chantel is now going to be a part of our lives."

"Then yay!" Damien jumped back, clapping as he turned in circles.

I couldn't swear on a bible, but I was pretty positive Nikolay added another word during the playful commotion.

Forever…

Protection.

It was interesting how protected one could feel while still worried about every person, every vehicle. I think both Nikolay and I were grateful Damien was excited about the trip, helping me decide which toys and books to pack. I had no idea how long we'd be there, the clothing I had abysmal, but Nikolay mentioned we could easily shop for more once we arrived.

I knew of the area, the expensive homes in the millions. Not that I had been there. My father never liked to leave LA for another American city, as he so often said. Mexico was fine. The Caribbean was perfect. Switzerland. I'd never questioned but had to wonder if he'd wished he was living in Russia.

God forbid.

While the powerful Russian of my own insisted on driving one of his sports cars, an SUV remained in front of us, two behind the entire trip. The drive time was only two and a half hours, although we hit some traffic. Damien jabbered a good portion of the time until I'd read him a story and he'd fallen asleep.

After being forced to stop for gas, I'd switched to sitting in the front passenger seat, still trying to process what he'd told me earlier.

"Vadim and his wife are okay?"

"They're fine. Vadim doesn't like being pushed into a corner though. He's a bull," Nikolay said quietly as he glanced into the rearview mirror.

"So are you. Any idea who was responsible?"

He exhaled as if as exhausted as I felt. "We have an idea but it's yet to be confirmed. If we're right, it could damage our family."

That both intrigued and terrified me. Who was he talking about?

"But they'll try again."

"I have to consider that a distinct possibility."

The plan was to head to the beach house, his men remaining on guard at all times. He assured me that the area could more easily be secured, neighbors not even within sight. However, the man remained antsy, which kept me on edge. "What are your plans?"

"A meeting is being established with members of the main Cosa Nostra. I must be there."

"And leave us alone?"

Reaching over, he grabbed and squeezed my hand. Funny how I didn't feel additional comfort at this point.

"Don't worry. First of all, I won't be gone long. Second, my most trusted, invaluable men are going to protect you while I'm gone. And lastly, as I mentioned, no one knows about the house."

"Okay. If you say so. It just seems they know every detail about your life and whereabouts."

I studied him after making the statement and sighed. He was worried what was occurring was an inside job. "Your men are really trustworthy?"

"At least the ones on this detail."

Detail. The word seemed so foreign to me, so odd to hear him say. However, if I wanted to be with him forever, I had to learn to deal with his life, which was far more dangerous than what I'd lived. There I went again, thinking past the glorious fairytale. Shame on me.

"Now, stop worrying. I think you're going to love this house. We're almost there."

I leaned my head back, staring out the windshield. As the beach came into view, the soft rolling waves, I was shocked just how different the scenery was from Brighton Beach. The smaller homes turned into larger ones, most a significant distance apart. There were few commercial businesses, a small cluster of what appeared to be quaint shops and small eateries off in the distance. The sun was bright, only a few clouds in the sky, and I had to think this was as close to paradise as I would get.

If only it could last.

Remember, this isn't a fantasy.

The little voice should continue nagging me. While some would consider me a princess of sorts, the truth was I had no business acting like one. I still wanted to be just a normal girl.

Was that possible?

"There she is." He pointed out the windshield and I had to sit up.

The sight in front of me took my breath away.

"Holy shit." There was no accurate way of describing my impression of the incredibly gorgeous house. The two-story home with an attached porch seen from the front led to another section of a massive building that had what appeared to be cedar shake siding, windows everywhere, and a large chimney on one side. The driveway was aggregate, the three-car carriage-style garage adding to the character of the home.

I opened the window, drinking in the ocean air, noting the gorgeous landscaping all positioned in a beautiful rock design. Through the attached, covered porch, I could see the ocean, including a long wooden walkway leading to the water.

I could only imagine how stunning the house was inside.

"Wow. No other word is feasible."

He laughed as he cut the engine. "You had me at holy shit."

As I climbed out, I took a few seconds to simply enjoy the view before lifting the seat. "Hey, Damien. We're here."

For a little boy who had difficulty or no desire getting up in the morning, he popped up as if it was Christmas morning.

"Yay."

I didn't need to bother getting him out. He jumped out, laughing as he ran toward the house.

"Hey, little man. Don't go far!" Nikolay yelled as we both headed to the trunk. Meanwhile the SUVs pulled up and down both sides of the street. At least there were no close neighbors; the only other house we'd passed in a little while had been at the beginning of the rather narrow road.

Nikolay's house was at the end of the road entirely, no others connecting. There was a dune off to the side, blocking whatever was on the other side.

"Come on. We need to drop the bags inside and ensure Damien doesn't run too far. He loves this beach. He loves the water." Nikolay acted as if we were coming on vacation and nothing more.

"What about your men? Where in God's name are they going to stay or even eat? I didn't even see a motel of any kind." I grabbed two of the bags, glancing at the men, every man exiting the vehicles in what seemed like a timed operation.

He chuckled and yanked out a set of keys. "Notice the building on the right? The bottom is the garage as you can see. However, the top floor is a three-bedroom, fully equipped apartment where they stay. They have the best satellite and communications equipment available plus the finest entertainment center they've ever seen complete with four televisions, a stereo system, and an entire collection of old-fashioned DVDs plus every network and cable station they could want."

"You've thought of everything." I was impressed.

"Pops taught me that if you treat those who work for you well, it will come back tenfold. I also made certain their refrigerator and pantry are fully stocked with hopefully everything they need. But there is a motel, and a couple small grocery stores close by."

"You have a housekeeper here too?"

As he climbed onto the porch, he glanced into the closest window before placing a key into an old-fashioned lock. Meaning, he wasn't using an eye or hand scanner. I had to laugh at myself. Since when were those things a necessity?

"No, but I pay a woman extremely well to check on the place from time to time, spruce it up before I arrive and purchase necessities. She's been a godsend. Come on. This home is your home."

The moment he opened the door, and I took a single step, seeing the sweeping views alone was enough to make me swoon. From what I could see of the home, including a room off to the side, the design was beachy meets classic. The aura was light and modern, the furniture appearing beautiful and likely expensive yet comfortable.

"Why don't you head to the back and outside, and ensure he doesn't tumble into the waves while I take these upstairs?"

I could feel the heat exuding from the man's body as he studied me.

"Tumble into the waves? What do you think I am, a doctor?"

"No, but you do know first aid, right?"

"Stop worrying. I can handle this." There was no clear shot to a back door, which allowed me to see a fleeting few seconds of other rooms directly in front, including a country meets beachy-style kitchen complete with whitewashed cabinets and a massive island with comfy-looking barstools. I even caught the fact there was a stone fireplace. In a kitchen.

The set of double French doors led to a massive deck that I would guess connected to the breezeway I'd seen from the front. I raced outside after finally figuring out the rather complicated lock, running to the railing and covering my eyes. I scanned the beach, quickly feeling a sense of relief when I noticed Damien racing and skipping down the long walkway, spinning in circles, happy as can be.

Even if in my mind he was way too close to the water.

Maybe there was a motherly bone or two in my body.

I took my time walking down the wooden structure, the early afternoon sun creating a perfect golden glow on the water. After ensuring he was still on the beach, I turned around and had another gawking moment. I hadn't noticed the huge pool, hot tub or the massive outdoor patio that was connected to a screened-in porch.

In my mind it was official. This was by far the prettiest place on earth and so like my dream house.

Reality, girl. Reality.

The inner voice was going to get on my nerves.

As I walked down the stairs, I yanked off my tennis shoes, tossing them aside. While the sun was warm given the early October day, the sand itself was chilly on the toes but I loved it.

"Don't get your tennis shoes wet," I called out and he immediately giggled.

I could easily tell this was his happy place. Dear God, I prayed among all the beautiful things I knew I was in store for that Nikolay had books. I'd not given it a thought about trying to find one or two.

I was amazed that there was a huge patch of grassy land, although kept completely natural with shrubs, bushes, and a few little trees. While I'd consider the beach pristine, it was also untouched, as if just put here by Mother Nature yesterday.

The breeze felt good even though I was slightly chilled, the sight of the ocean so different that all I could do was to take a deep breath. For just a little while, it was okay allowing Damien to enjoy his surroundings entirely on his own.

Only a few seconds later, I felt a heated presence behind me. When something was placed across my shoulders, all I could do was smile.

"It's much chillier here, believe it or not. Especially at night. When I'm here, I almost always have a fire going at night." His deep voice would always push me into reverting to the fantasy, sensual images flashing into the forefront of my mind. While he didn't wrap his arms around me, the closeness, just being here with him was still special.

"It's gorgeous."

"I won't lie. Damien loves this place and it's my favorite location I think in the world. And the family owns several tropical homes, a chalet in Switzerland."

"Of course you do."

His laugh was a bit more relaxed. "My father was determined to get into commercial development at one point in his life. Our mother insisted that he alter his plans. The compromise was the purchase of several homes. As an investment strategy of course."

"Of course."

"Daddy! Come see the shell I found." Damien was so excited, so alive.

I knew in my heart this was the place where he could heal.

"A shell, huh? I'll be right there. Fatherly duty calls."

"He adores you."

There was something odd about his deep exhale. "I'm curious. Is he still sucking his thumb?"

What an odd question to ask at this point. "Not since the first night."

"Fascinating."

The man was as layered as his boy.

Also just as covered in armor.

As Nikolay trotted off, I was a bit shocked to see he'd removed his shoes as well. I watched the two of them interact, the joy in both male souls as Nikolay held up a very large conch shell. I had no clue conch could live in colder climates. Unless the shell was a plant. I shook my head. Who would leave a gorgeous shell behind?

They seemed so happy together and I was thrilled to be a part of the experience. Maybe I could be happy as well for the first time in my life. A girl could hope and dream. Something I'd been doing a lot of lately.

After a few minutes, I headed in their direction. "Hey, boys. I hate to be a party pooper, but we should make lunch."

The two of them looked at me at the same time, both with the same scrunched-up faces. That's the moment I realized just how much they looked like each other. In fact, the resemblance was uncanny. They were definitely father and son.

"That's what we'll start calling her, little man. Party pooper."

Damien giggled as only little boys could do. "Pooper. Pooper. Pooper."

I lumbered forward, almost stumbling on a couple of rocks hidden by the sand. As I flew into his arms, Nikolay lifted me off the ground, swinging me around. "You are incorrigible."

"You make me that way."

Perhaps I did. Was that a bad thing?

When he eased me down, there was that special moment of connection, unbridled electricity that couldn't be contained or fabricated. And it was wonderful.

Before we did something confusing in front of Damien, I purposely backed away. This was a true fairytale.

Yet the moment I turned around to head back to the house, a huge dose of reality was pushed back into my bubbled fantasy, popping it.

Four soldiers were already outside, walking the area on duty.

Looking for monsters in men.

And keeping us safe.

If there was such a thing.