Chapter 5 - Leon

Natalie sits next to me and twirls the ends of her brunette hair between her fingers. Her chocolate-brown doe eyes turn to me as she gives me a nervous smile.

Fuck she is beautiful.

Her pouty lips, her seductive curves, her blushing cheeks with the sweet dimples when she smiles. She"s a delicious package, and I want more.

"Where do you live?"

"Honestly, I don't know the directions. It's a building somewhere in Tribeca."

"Address?"

That sheepish smile widens. "It's on Franklin Street."

She is clever and deliberately avoids my question by giving me her exact address. There is a certain mistrust in her eyes, but I like that.

When I saw her standing in that restaurant with that handsome but brainless asshole who thought he could touch a woman against her will, I knew I had to approach her. I tried to mind my own fucking business, but the moment that fuckwit grabbed her, I was on my feet. I don't put up with shit like that. Never. And certainly not with a woman I"ve set my sights on. She's mine.

Natalie remained calm for most of this outburst but surprised me with her exuberance. The way her full lips pursed was sweet, and her eyes became fiery as she threw the water in his face.

I like my women with a bit of temper; it only adds to the challenge and passion.

"Franklin Street is long. If you don't want to give me your address, I can always take you to my penthouse instead. You can stay in the guest room and leave in the morning."

She crosses her toned legs at the ankles, the side slit of her dress falls open at the thigh. Fuck! I itch to run my fingers over her dewy, olive skin up to her middle. I want to wrap her legs around my waist, her shiny, long hair around my fist as I thrust into her, making her forget about every other man who has come before me.

Her hands rest in her lap. There is a blue stain of paint on her thumb. "A penthouse could be exciting. I have never been in one."

She surprised me again; I still can't figure her out. I'm intrigued. Who is this girl? She looks very elegant and innocent, but maybe she"s older than I think. I don't know what it is precisely about this woman—it's not just her exotic beauty and stunning body—but I'm attracted to her.

"Alright." I turn down another street, looping back in the opposite direction and heading toward the Upper East Side.

"So, Leon, that"s a nice car." She presses a button and rolls down the tinted window. She leans slightly to the side to look at the glowing lights as we drive up South Park Avenue. "What do you do for a living?"

"I own some businesses."

That's as close to the truth as she can be right now. She doesn't need to know that my family is the Orlov Bratva and that we gained fame and fortune through nefarious means. We are well-known and respected in the world of organized crime.

"Do I know any?" She pulls out her phone and snaps a picture of one of the buildings we pass, taking a moment to study the columns and stone gargoyles as we stop at a red light.

"Depends. Do you spend time at clubs or gamble?"

"No."

"Then no." I wink at her as she looks at me, and her musical laughter echoes through the car. "Do you want to tell me why you were out with a schoolboy?"

Her cheeks flush, but she doesn't answer me, instead leaning back in her seat. The car speeds forward as I weave through the traffic, eager to get home. I want to see the blush on her neck and breasts as she whimpers and squirms beneath me.

"I saw you enter the restaurant. I was at the bar having a drink after a meeting. You caught the eyes of everyone in the room, solnyshko."

She rolls her eyes, and her full lips pucker. "You don"t need to flatter me, Leon. I'm already in your car, but I'm not that beautiful. I"d be a fool to believe I"d attract everyone's attention."

She's intelligent and witty.

"If someone has made you feel you are not beautiful, they have done you a great disservice." I turn down the soft classical music and focus on her as we halt at another red light. "What did you see in him? That douchebag."

She shrugs. "What everyone sees in everyone else, I guess."

Natalie is pretending to be mysterious. It only adds to the chase.

She thinks she is the one in control. I can see it in her sitting; she is never quite relaxed but acts like she is. Her body is slightly tilted toward me. The dress climbs higher, and I am getting uncomfortably warm in my lower region.

Soon, she'll find out who is really in control.

From the moment I saw her, I knew she would be mine no matter the cost. I'm as protective as I'm possessive of my woman, and if I had to kill that boy to get to her, then I would've. That boy was lucky he got off so easily. Restraint is not one of my strongest traits.

"If you"re looking for a charming man for a date, you should have sought me out earlier."

The corner of her mauve-painted lips tilts upward. "I found you, didn't I?"

My erection swells behind my zipper at her cocky confidence.

I chuckle, weaving through the bright yellow taxis. "That you did. You have impeccable taste."

Natalie shakes her head, looking at the buildings outside as we turn onto Madison Avenue. "I heard that the Upper East Side was expensive, but I haven't had time to come up here yet."

"Are you an artist?"

She nods. "Yeah. Oil painting, specifically."

"Explains the paint on your thumb." I take her hand in mine, lifting it to my mouth and pressing a kiss over the paint speck. "You know, I think you would like the paintings in my penthouse."

Her eyes light up when I stop in front of the apartment building. The building is made of gray stone, rises over sixty stories, and tapers toward the top.

Natalie gets out of the car as the valet opens her door. I get out and hand my keys to the valet. "The top two floors are the penthouse. Where it tapers off, with the larger windows and the terrace."

Her eyes widen as she looks at me. "Your penthouse is two stories?"

I press my hand to the small of her back and lead her to the glass doors under the white canopy. "You know, they say the man who owns this building is one of the most charming men in New York."

She scoffs, her eyes narrowing as she turns to look at me. "And who would the owner be?"

"Leonid Orlov."

Those warm brown eyes light up in amusement, and one eyebrow arches. "And is Leon by any chance short for Leonid?"

I nod, opening the door. "Correct."

"Well then, the most charming man in New York remains to be determined."

The cheeky smile she wears as I lead her to the private elevator that leads to the penthouse sends lust coursing through my veins.

She gasps as she steps out of the elevator, and her gaze immediately falls on the Renoir painting hanging above the walnut table in the entrance hall. "Where did you get that?"

I take off my shoes and hold out a hand to steady her while she does the same. "I bought it at an art auction many years ago. Do you like it?"

"Like it?" Natalie's eyes widen as she stands before the painting, analyzing the brushstrokes. "I love it. Renoir is renowned for capturing feminine sensuality in such a raw way. The Large Bathers is one of my favorite paintings, but this is a close second."

The woman in the painting is lying on a lounger with her back to the artist after taking a bath. When I first bought it, I didn't think much of it, but after it hung in my hallway for a few weeks, I liked it more and more.

Natalie turns to me, excitement sparkling like diamonds in her eyes. "I don't know how you got your hands on this, but it's incredible."

"I didn't think you would be interested in nude paintings. Most women aren't."

"Most women don't have an appreciation for their bodies." Natalie turns back to admire the painting, pointing out the slope of the woman's waist. ‘Look at how delicate she looks here, but there's a stiffness in how she holds her head. Resilience and delicacy."

I watch as she tilts her head, and all I can think about is slowly brushing my mouth along the column of her delicate neck, teasing, and nipping her.

Natalie tiptoes deeper into the penthouse before looking back at me, a question on the tip of her tongue, but she holds it back.

I shuck my suit jacket and lay it over the light blue chair next to the door. "If you want to look around, you are more than welcome."

The innuendo is clear. So is the mischief shining in her eyes.

She knows exactly what she's getting into. She drops her purse on a side table and keeps her back to me as she walks on, hips swaying, before glancing over her shoulder. A sexy, sly smile plays around her lips, and I almost lose control of myself. Fuck me, this woman is doing crazy shit to my body.

"Are you going to give me a tour … or not?"