Page 17 of Ruthless Love

“Dimitri?”

A statuesque brunette with hair down to her ass and wearing six-inch heels slinks down the stairs in lingerie so thin, nothing is left to the imagination. I’m not exactly shy, but leering at her right in front of the man is cocky even for me, so I stroll to a large bay window facing the front driveway.

Gazing out at an endless expanse of lush gardens not meant for the Dallas heat, I lock my gaze far off in the distance while eavesdropping on their conversation. Unconcerned with my presence, their discussion is open and candid, and entirely in their natural Moscovian Russian. Intently, I hang on every word, easing back into the language like an aged single-barrel whiskey.

“What the fuck are you wearing? Are you trying to make me jealous?” Dimitri’s rough with his words, but even from the corner of my eye, the terse smack on her ass only serves to pull her into him.

“What?” she says. “I thought he was here for the three-way you keep promising.”

Amused, I cross my arms, because now I’m wondering the same thing.

“He’s the fucking architect.”

“And an architect’s cock doesn’t work? He’s perfect.”

That purr of her words is electric, and even from across the room, I feel the heat of her stare. Somehow, Dimitri’s huff manages to widen the smile on my face.

“No,” he says in a tone that has somehow settled a teetering decision. “I’m still not sure. Two men for you, or two women for me? You don’t deserve a reward. You’ve been a bad girl, leaving your panties on my nightstand. On purpose. You wanted her to find them.”

At that, she giggles.

I can see from the window’s reflection that he’s about ninety seconds from fucking her right in front of me. Rather than request a snack and some quality vodka, I watch a small car approach and figure that one way or another, it’s my cue to leave.

“Listen, Mr. Antonov—”

“Dimitri,” he says with jovial insistence, and I’m cautious as I approach him. As he gives me a once-over while sporting a cheesier-than-shit grin, it’s apparent he’s into me as much as she is. Which is definitely where my fun train comes to a grinding halt.

Not judging. Just not for me.

“I’m really not the guy for the job.” And yes, I mean that both ways. “So I’ll just show myself out.”

The low rumble of the approaching car draws him to the door before I fully open it. Concern pinches his brow as he peeks outside and then shuts the door, cutting me off from my graceful departure. Before I get belligerent on all five foot ten of him, he huffs out an irate breath and barks out a fuck, completely free of his thick accent.

With a swat on his leggy vixen’s ass, he shoos her away, all the while chastising her.

I don’t mind the bounce of her body as her legs hurry up the stairs, but his incessant belittling of her in his native tongue is seriously pissing me off. Reining myself in, I remain calm and controlled. I have to.

She rushes upstairs without a word, and his hand claps hard on my back, with my natural response being to clench my fist. Hopefully, I can keep the predictable and oncoming throat punch in check. For both our sakes.

His tone gives away a crack of desperation, though his stern eyes are a pure threat. “I’m sure I can trust your discretion.”

My eyes narrow. “Not a problem,” I say, not exactly sure what’s about to go down. “Because as I said, I’m leaving. But if you don’t get your hand off me, I’m ripping it off and taking it with me as a hood ornament.”

Okay, that wasn’t exactly me keeping my cool. I rationalize away any concern, knowing it could have gone down so much worse. On top of Dimitri’s outlandish wealth and unquestionable power, the man has squeezed his way into the upper echelons by tamping down his own reactions.

It only takes him a second before his hand lifts from my shoulder and the charmed smile returns to his face. With four inches and thirty pounds of pure muscle on the guy, I smile back. We’re done here.

I take a few determined steps and fling open the front door, then stalk my way across the annoying-as-fuck pebbled drive. With any luck, when I peel away, my back tire will shoot a rock or two right through a few panes of his custom bay window.

I grab my helmet but can’t bring myself to put it on. I’m too stunned, frozen like an idiot, staring at the car inching to a stop right in front of me, driven by a woman with honey-touched waves that frame her sweet face and slender shoulders.

She kills the engine and gets out of the vintage Mercedes convertible that seems custom built just for her. The black dress hugging her petite frame gives me a tease of her toned thighs and hugs every soft curve of her body perfectly. Her bright blue eyes are wide as they fix on mine, and all I can do is imagine how dark they’ll get when her body is under me.

“Hey, neighbor,” she says smoothly as her pouty lips spread to a genuine smile, and I can’t help but smile back at her giggling lips. “Scouting new locations to streak?”

“With you here? Don’t tempt me.” After a moment of losing myself in her eyes, I scan the length of her breathtaking figure. I deflate as my focus screeches to a halt on her hand, and the ring on her finger.

Fuck. I’m not sure how the hell I missed a diamond the size of Antarctica, but I must have been too distracted the last time to notice. Was she wearing it? By the size and elaborate setting, she’s not just engaged, but to someone who’s about to drive me straight to round two of nearly losing my shit.

---