Page 42 of Diamond Don

“I must be. And you are?”

“I’m Dmitri. I’m Nik’s friend.”

He smiles, all dimples, offering me his hand. Dumbfounded, I stare at it for a second before shaking it. His hand is big and warm, and the skin feels a little rough.

“And by friend, you mean henchman, of course,” I say.

Dmitri laughs—a genuine, heartfelt laugh. His smile reaches his pale blue eyes, and dimples pop up on his cheek again. His dark blond hair bounces as he shakes his head. He’s young, likely in his mid-twenties. He’s also very tall, towering above me by more than a foot.

“You’re funny,” he says. “I can see why Nik likes you.”

“He does? That’s news to me.”

He grins. Even though he’s a few years my junior, I can’t deny Dmitri is hot. His boyish good looks are cute and disarming, but his broad shoulders and lean muscular frame tell me he is all man. True, he doesn’t make me all weak in the knees like Nik, but I still appreciate that he is a fine-looking man.

“Well, let me put it like this,” Dmitri says. “Most people caught stealing from Nik aren’t invited to hang out at his penthouse. I can tell you that much.”

“You and I have a very different definition of the word ‘invited’, Dmitri.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugs. “But my point stands. You’re getting off easy.”

“Once again, our definitions of the word don’t match.”

“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree,” he says. “Coffee?”

Sighing, I sit on one of the stools by the kitchen island. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Dmitri fills a mug with coffee before handing it to me. I spot a pastry box on the kitchen counter, right next to where Nik set me down last night before shoving himself between my legs.

Before I even get a chance to ask, Dmitri picks up the box and places it in front of me on the kitchen island. I waste no time opening it, marveling at the different flavors of donuts and bagels. I grab one of each.

“So, how long have you and Nik been partners in crime? Excuse me—I mean friends, of course.”

Dmitri chuckles. “I’ve known Nik almost my entire life.”

“What’s that? Sixteen years?”

He smirks at me, sitting on one of the stools across from me—right where Nik sat down last night before I started playing footsie with him.

“Cute. I definitely see why he likes you,” Dmitri says.

“So you keep saying.”

“For what it’s worth, I can assure you I’m of age. I’m all grown up where it matters.” He winks at me.

I can’t help but laugh in response. He is delightful, especially for a made man. I lean forward over the kitchen island, ready to reply with an equally flirty comeback, when Dmitri glances over my shoulder. Wordlessly, he stands up.

“Thank you for letting us know, Dmitri,” Nik says with sarcasm.

Dmitri smiles, not even the slightest bit remorseful. “Morning, Nik.”

“I see you two have met,” Nik says, sitting beside me. I try to scoot away, but he grabs my seat and pulls it back, keeping me at his side. He is so close I can smell his shampoo and feel the heat from his skin. I even detect the up and down of his chest as he breathes in and out.

“I’ve been keeping her busy for you,” Dmitri says, winking at me again. I roll my eyes.

“Is that right?” Nik asks, his voice as dry as sandpaper.

“Yep. She’s been bombarding me with all these questions about you.”

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