Page 18 of Taming Mika

“Nothing you need to worry about. Just more negotiations.”

“But it’s, like, a week before the wedding. I thought all the negotiations were settled,” she signs more adamantly.

“Nina.” I grasp her chin and hold it securely so she can read my lips. “Everything’s fine. Just stay upstairs.”

My sister nods slowly, then places a finger to her lips before pressing a flat palm against the thumb-side of her opposite fist. “I promise.”

“Good girl.” I pull her in for another quick hug, then watch as she collects her book and pads softly from the library. With a heavy sigh, I follow her out, taking a left as she heads right, so I can wait for my guests in the foyer.

When the Kapranovs first stipulated that I would have to wait until the wedding to meet Ana, it irked me. But tonight, I’m grateful my fiancée won’t be here. I think it’s best if none of the ladies are present for this conversation. I’ll have my hands full enough with Nikolai and his son, Dominik.

“Sir, the Kapranovs’ car just pulled up,” Vincent says as he falls into step with me.

“Good. Let’s get this over with.”

My butler, Henry, opens the door as Marco joins me and Vincent, my two heads of security and bodyguards, stationing themselves unobtrusively behind me.

“Alfie!” Nikolai booms, stepping through the door, his deep, boisterous voice matching the wide barrel of his chest. He signals his men to remain outside—a sign of trust I’m confident I won’t see again after tonight. His mass of auburn curls is trimmed short and neat, along with his thick beard, giving him a crisp, clean appearance. Nothing but the burly, broad-shouldered Russian’s imposing size would hint at his untamable and erratic nature—another reason I’m not looking forward to this dinner.

I was hesitant to agree to this alliance in the first place because Nikolai has a notoriously short fuse. My father warned me against doing business of any kind with the Russians because of it, but with things growing increasingly more hostile along our borders as my family’s business expands, I wanted to get ahead of any violent conflict by forming a more permanent alliance. That will set the stage for cooperation between our families for a long time as well. Even if Dominik seems just as dangerous and unpredictable as his father—and actually looks it, too—I get the feeling that he might be easier to negotiate with, and since he’ll be taking over aspakhanin the not-so-distant future, I want to find a peaceful arrangement now.

I only hope I’m not about to watch all my careful negotiations go up in flames.

“Your dinner invitation was entirely unexpected but a welcome surprise,” Nikolai continues, closing the distance between us to clap me brusquely on the shoulders.

Dominik follows a few steps behind, his signature scowl cutting deep lines in his forehead. And though he has the same auburn curls and blue eyes as his father, he couldn’t come across more different than the older Kapranov, even with the same stocky, muscular frame. Rather than his father’s crisp, clean look, Dominik’s hair and beardcreate a wild mane around his face, reflecting the volatile personality they’re known for.

“Thanks for accepting on such short notice,” I force charm into my strained smile and shake Dominik’s broad hand, matching the strength of his grip as our eyes meet.

“Dinner should be ready if you’d like to lead the way,” I suggest, gesturing toward the open doorway.

The Russians turn, striding confidently toward the guest dining room where I host smaller dinner parties. Three places have already been set with fine china and polished silver that has been in the family for generations. The heavy wingback dining room chairs look small compared to my dinner guests as I take a seat across from Nikolai and Dominik. Vincent and Marco stay just outside the dining room’s arched doorway, close but invisible to the Kapranovs.

“So, Alfie, how’s the new investment turning out?” Nikolai asks, the boredom in his richly accented voice telling me just how little he actually wants to be sitting here, making small talk. “I hadn’t pegged you for a horse man.”

I smirk and force my shoulders to stay down as I mask my growing tension. “I’m not particularly, but I am a betting man, and the horses seem to be in top shape. I look forward to seeing how they race. Either way, the estate holds enough value to make the investment worthwhile.”

One of the kitchen staff pours us each a glass of zinfandel from my private stores as two others bring in plates of food, setting richly smothered veal parmesan before us. It smells spiced to perfection with oregano, basil, and thyme, and the parmesan oozes off the crisp breading onto the plate. The two Russians are cutting into their food before my staff slips out of the door, and I can tell by Nikolai’s appreciative hum that my chef has served another winning meal.

“Well, it sounds like you’ve found a new source of entertainment, if nothing else,” the older Kapranov says between bites.

I study his expression closely, wondering if he might know more about the reason I called him here tonight than he’s letting on, but as my first bite of veal hovers inches from my mouth, Nikolai chuckles.

“Men like us have to find outlets to stay sane,da? Horse racing sounds like as reasonable aninvestmentas any other.Za zdaróvye.”

Nikolai raises his glass in a toast, and I set down my uneaten bite to return the gesture. Dominik mirrors it before resuming his meal without a word.

“So, Alfie, what’s this dinner about?” thepakhanasks after taking a generous sip of wine and following it with a bite. “I imagine you didn’t invite us over just to share a meal.”

“No, I didn’t.” I cast my eyes toward the doorway where my two guards wait, prepared for whatever happens next. Then I turn my eyes back to the Russians, my muscles tense and ready for action as I choose my words carefully. “I invited you tonight to discuss the wedding.”

“What more is there to discuss? All the decisions have been made. The guest list is set. It’s in less than two weeks. What else could we possibly have to talk about?” Nikolai places his fists on the table, his fork and knife grasped casually in a threatening gesture.

This is my last opportunity to change my mind—to avoid the conflict I’m sure I’ll trigger if I fail to marry Ana. It would be so much easier to simply stay the course. If I don’t, I could very likely end up at war with my potential allies. Choosing Mika could cost countless men their lives.

Am I that selfish? How much do I want her for myself?

An image of Mika’s intense blue-green eyes fills my mind. I can almost feel the silky warmth of her skin against my palms. The way she challenges me and speaks her mind—she’s fearless, and she makes me feel alive in a way no one else ever has. That’s why I want her, and I’m willing to live with the consequences.

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