Page 6 of The Bratva King's Kidnapped Bride

Maybe never.

That thought hit me like a thunderbolt, and I gripped her tighter. She tipped her head back and smiled languidly at me.

“I’m having such a great time, Aleks, thanks.”

That sounded too much like she was leading up to a goodbye, but her hands still clung to my shoulders. Her belly brushed against my hips as she moved, smiling some more to herself because there was no way she didn’t feel my raging hard-on.

Another shocking thought hit me, harder than before. Not a thought so much as a vivid image.

Katie, growing round with my child.

Nonsense. The constant urging from my father for a male heir was going to have to be up to my brothers. I’d done my part as well as I could, and I was done.

Or was I? Could I let this woman who’d struck me so hard and fast slip out of my life?

Looking down at her, her head was tipped back, lips still parted. I lowered my head and let my mouth brush across hers, smiling at her soft gasp. Dragging my lips across her cheek, I spoke close to her ear.

“Come home with me tonight.”

Chapter 3 - Katie

The club was everything my friends promised. Loud, packed with beautiful people, and decorated like a cross between a space station and a very luxurious drawing room. I balked at the long line and the outrageous cover price, but Layla and the other girls in our group assured me we wouldn’t have to pay.

Shockingly, when it was our turn, the scary-looking doorman gave us a stern once over and ushered Layla, me, and the two other girls inside while Layla’s boyfriend and the other guy who joined us had to pony up the cover fee. We managed to get drinks, and my meager sparkling water was so expensive I nearly fell off the barstool I was lucky to get.

Everyone tried to get me to dance, but I just wanted to take it all in for a while since I’d never been to such a fancy club or really any club. I was too young and too much of a rule follower to sneak out with my outgoing friend Nataliya when we went to school together, and once my parents died, I didn’t have time, to try to keep it together to graduate while working any part-time job someone would give me.

Felix, the head waiter at our restaurant, came back and tried to drag me onto the dance floor again, and I eventually caved just to see what it was like out there in that glittering crowd of the Los Angeles elite.

It was sweaty. And borderline painful whenever someone crashed into me. Felix had already knocked back two of the colorful cocktails this place was supposedly famous for, and had gotten a little handsy. He was usually a nice guy, so I didn’t want to make a scene, but I really wanted to leave that strobe-lit war zone.

Just as I was getting frustrated, a big hand clapped over mine and dragged me to the edges. With just one look, he made Felix slink away to try to grind on some other girl. I was about to thank my rescuer, thinking it was a bouncer who sensed my distress, but then I was shocked into next week to find it was none other than Aleksandr Fokin.

My best friend Nataliye’s father. It had been years since I’d seen him, and memories rushed me like a linebacker.

Nataliye and I were inseparable when we both went to St. Ambrose, back when I had a family that could afford the prestigious private academy. Catching glimpses of Nat’s handsome dad whenever I was over at their mansion in the hills had been the highlight of my young teen years.

Here he was, looming over me now, and he was more handsome than I remembered. His dark hair was just as unruly, a mass of thick waves cut close above his ears but tumbling across his forehead. End of the day, stubble shaded his chiseled jawline and his piercing blue eyes were studying me like I was a rare plant. The way they swept my body made me feel even hotter than when I was getting squished on the dance floor. His shoulders seemed broader, encased in a dark gray suit, the crisp shirt open at the collar to reveal that smattering of chest hair that used to make me swoon whenever we’d all happen to be out by the pool at the same time.

I had to look up and up to fully take him in, and with a quick nod, he pulled me upstairs to a cordoned-off area. It only took me a few seconds after he ordered me a bottle of extremely expensive white wine to realize that Mr. Fokin didn’t recognize me at all.

And he wanted me to call him Aleks.

And he was clearly flirting with me.

This was new. This was so exciting that I could barely sit still, shifting so our legs touched. His hand wavered in the air over my knee, and I held my breath, but he didn’t touch me even though I was inwardly begging. This was turning out to be the best way to end a horrible day, and I wanted to lean into this little fantasy.

Aleksandr Fokin was flirting with me, asking me to tell him everything about my humble and boring life, and acting like I was reading from a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel. He was so entranced.

I kept expecting him to snap at the fact he’d seen me in a face mask once, but he reminded Nataliye that if she didn’t get her book report in on time for once, her ski trip would be canceled. He honestly seemed to see me as a woman now, not the shy little girl who could barely meet his eye that I once was.

Should I remind him?

Guilt skated around the edges of my giddiness, because this was wrong, wasn’t it? Was I going to stay up here, closed in by that black velvet curtain, getting closer and closer to my best friend’s dad? Nataliye would literally kill me, and probably in a painful manner. Then she’d most likely kill her father, too, and I would have been ultimately responsible for that double homicide.

I pushed those thoughts aside, because I wasn’t really doing anything wrong. We were just talking, or I was mainly just talking, since every time I asked Aleks a question about what he’d been up to over the years, he quickly turned the questions back on me. Having someone I’d dreamed about so often show me such interest made me feel drunker than the wine ever could.

He was a perfect gentleman but was making me antsy and heated just by his intense gaze and the way it kept dropping to my mouth. Or better yet, my cleavage. I’d always been severely self-conscious, especially next to his willowy daughter, but the way he looked at me made me feel like I was as attractive as the Miss Universe lookalike who served our drinks. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but I wanted to. Oh boy, did I want to.

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