Page 5 of Claimed By The Russian

Because no matter how many billions of dollars flowed through our doors, and into our pockets, suddenly it was all worthless without her to share it with.

The idea of falling for a woman would have sounded absolutely ludicrous to me just twenty-four hours ago, until she was brought through my door.

I stand, staring out the window and watching the snowfall. I have to be patient. After her long flight and her immediate ordeal she needs to sleep, to recover.

I hear footsteps and turn, seeing Sergiu standing in the doorway.

“Is she still sleeping?”

“I think, boss. I didn’t go in her room like you asked, but the door hasn’t opened.”

“Good,” I say, knowing it’s not like she could escape out the window either. She’s resting peacefully, as she always should on my watch, under my roof.

“You want me to go in her room at a certain time if she hasn’t come out?”

“No!” I retort sharply. “She’s mine. No one touches her or even looks at her.”

Sergiu takes a step back. I haven’t had a need to get aggressive with him in I don’t know how long, but the possessive side of me immediately flares whenever the thought of another man by her side, doing things for her that I will be doing, crosses my mind.

“Make sure everyone else knows,” I say flatly, trying to calm myself. “That’s all for today.”

“Yes, boss,” Sergiu says, pivots on his heel and is gone in an instant.

I turn back to the window, unable to believe her father is dead. We hadn’t really kept in touch, but we were still close, the result of bonding as young boys, as young men.

And now his daughter somehow wound up here, as if by fate in my care. She’s a young woman now. And I will make her mine. My woman.

I hear footsteps for a second time, but these are much lighter. I don’t turn around, but I narrow my gaze in the mirror, changing my line of sight from outside, where the snow falls over my city, to the reflection, where I see her standing in the doorway in a white T-shirt and shorts.

“You’re awake,” I say, unable to turn around as my dick immediately springs to life. I bring my hands in front of my groin, cupping them, trying to hide the need that’s doing it’s best to rip the Italian fabric of my suit pants.

I turn, facing her, and damn near lose my breath as she rubs her eyes with the back of her hands.

Even fresh out of bed and without a stitch of makeup on she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. The sight of her looking so fresh, so innocent, has a low growl coming from deep within my belly. Tomorrow, and for the rest of my life, I want to wake up next to her. I want to see her like this, the look of peacefulness spread across her face. A look I know I can provide her for eternity.

“My body clock is off, but I slept very well.”

“Good,” I say.

“Once I knew you knew my dad I was able to relax.”

“You will always be relaxed here,” I say taking a step toward her.

“Thank you, but I’ll try my best to be out of your hair as soon as possible.”

“Out of my hair,” I say, approaching her even closer to the point my hand comes up and stops just short of her beautiful brown locks with the light ends.

My dick twitches and my forearm tightens, my body demanding I knife my hands in her hair and pull her mouth into mine.

But I can’t, not yet. I’d never force a woman to my own whims, even though it’s taking the willpower of a thousand Russian Spetsnaz soldiers to hold me back.

Her eyes widen as she looks into my eyes, surprise washing across my face.

“Do I have something in my hair,” she says in a much softer voice.

I don’t answer at first and finally give the one word answer Russians are famous for. “No.”

Her face reddens and damn does she look adorable. Adorable? That word has never even entered my mind before this moment in my life. I’m talking like a love-struck puppy for Pete’s sake.

Damn, how I want to tell her how I’m feeling, how she belongs to me, but it’s too early. If I was truthful with her now I’d scare her to the point she’d be shaking, running for the airport faster than Usain Bolt.

Calm down, boy, I say to myself.

“I hate to ask for another favor, especially after everything you and your men have done, but maybe would you be able to loan me the money for a flight back to the States?”

“No,” I say, my face turning into a snarl.

She abruptly takes a step back, fear rising up from my reaction. It’s not for the reason she thinks though. It’s not the money, it’s the thought of her not in my life that’s driving me crazy. Just the thought alone is enough for me to have our online team hack the damn Moscow airport’s control tower and shut down all flights so she can’t escape.

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