Ruthless Stranger by Maggie Cole

11

Aspen

The day dragsby after Maksim leaves, but my flutters never calm. Part of me is nervous about what he's going to tell me. Another part of me screams it doesn't matter. He's a good man. I can't imagine him as anything else. Whatever he's done can't be so bad I need to stay away from him.

He bought a piece of land Lorenzo Rossi, the son of the Italian mob boss, owned.

That doesn't mean anything.

Doesn't it?

I try to push the thought out of my head, but it nags at me.

What if there's a connection?

My knowledge of the mafia is limited. I don't watch movies or TV shows about it. I haven't studied it. But from time to time, coworkers will make comments about the construction unions being owned by them. And Giovanni, Lorenzo's father, was imprisoned in the last year for something to do with embezzling the union pension fund. The governor was involved, too. After his arrest, he was murdered. Rumor had it, Giovanni ordered the hit.

I want to spend my day researching everything I can about Maksim, but the combining of two departments has me handling one fire after another. And I don't think I've ever been so busy but also felt like the day was going so slow.

When five hits, instead of staying how I usually would, I leave. Nothing is going to stop me from my date with Maksim.

I get into the lobby. As soon as I step out of the elevator, Adrian steps away from the wall. "Aspen?"

His Russian accent is thicker than Maksim's. His sandy-blond hair and blue eyes remind me of Peter's, but that is where the similarities end. He's built like a brick house, and although his looks could charm any woman, his eyes have a warning in them not to mess with him.

"Are you a bodyguard or driver?" I tease, but it comes out nervously.

His jaw clenches. He assesses me for a moment. "I am whatever I need to be in the moment. And I have strict orders to protect you."

Flutters take off. Anxiety over what I'm getting myself into, but also an appreciation that Maksim cares so much about my safety, overwhelms me. I put my hand on my stomach to steady it. I've never needed any sort of protection. This seems over the top, but I can't lie to myself. A part of me is enjoying that for once in my life, someone is looking out for me.

Adrian's gaze drops to my gut. "Ma'am, are you okay?"

I force a smile and remove my hand from my stomach. "Yes. I'm ready if you are."

He puts his hand on the middle of my back. It's nothing but protective. He continues to glance around while beelining to the car. When I get inside, there's a dozen, long-stemmed, red roses on the seat.

I pick them up and inhale them. I've never gotten roses before. Even when Peter and I dated, he never gave me flowers. He claimed flowers only died, so why spend the money. But it's not like he gave me anything in their place.

I don't need to be showered with gifts, but it's nice to be spoiled for once. And it's another gesture Maksim has made that adds up to more than Peter did for me in twenty years of marriage.

His thoughtful actions make me wonder again how there could be anything so horrible about Maksim that I would need to stay away from him.

There isn't. He's overreacting about something.

But I know he's dangerous. I can always feel it.

My phone rings, and my flutters change to happiness. I answer it. "Maksim."

His Russian accent makes me listen closer so I can understand him through the phone. "Have you changed your mind about tonight, my krasotka?"

Panic fills me. "No. Have you?"

He grunts. "It would not be possible. I told you if I knew where you were, I would not be able to resist you."

I smile. "Good."

"I did not ask. Are you allergic to anything, or is there anything you don't eat?"

I rest my cheek against the seat and stare out the window at the passing Chicago skyline. "My father fed me too much fried bologna as a child. I'm not a fan."

He chuckles. "I won't ever feed you bologna, then. Anything else?"

"Nope. That's it. What about you?"

"My mother cooked lots of porridge when I was a boy. I'm okay if I never eat it ever again."

"I'll keep it porridge-free when I cook for you, then."

"Ahh, you cook?" I can feel the smile in his voice even though we're on the phone.

"I dabble."

"What else do you dip your toes into?"

"Not a lot. I'm boring, remember?"

"I'm not buying that."

There's a moment of silence. I glance at the flowers.

"Maksim?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for the roses. I've...umm...it's the first time I've ever gotten them...well, any flowers, really."

"Fool," he mutters.

My pulse increases. "Sorry. Umm…"

"No. Not you. Your ex."

I take a nervous breath.

"I have to go, my krasotka. I will pick you up at seven."

"Okay. Thank you for sending Adrian to take me home."

"You're welcome."

The city turns from nice to more rundown the closer we get to my neighborhood. Snow falls so thick, a white blanket begins to form. When we finally get to my apartment, Adrian pulls next to the curb and parks. He gets out and opens my door.

"Thank you. Have a great night," I chirp.

He grunts, protectively places his hand on my middle back again, and moves me toward the front door.

"What are you doing?"

"Escorting you to your apartment."

I stop. "What?"

Adrian arrogantly arches his eyebrows. "Is this the part you argue with me?"

"What?" I repeat.

"I've been given strict instructions. There is no point fighting me on this. I have a job to do. Can we avoid the drama?"

"Drama?"

He nods, and his lips twitch.

"Is this normal?" I ask and wipe the snow off my eyelashes.

"What do you mean?"

"Does Maksim provide a bodyguard for all the women he dates?"

"I don't discuss my employer's business with anyone. And I suggest we go inside since this snow is wet and coming down harder."

I stop questioning him and move into the small lobby, consisting of the broken elevator and door to the stairwell.

Adrian pushes the button for the elevator.

"It's out of order. Hope you haven't gotten your workout in yet," I tease.

He snorts and opens the stairwell door. "What floor are you on?"

"Ten."

He nods. "That's doable. It could be worse. Let's go." He takes my purse and roses from me.

"Hey. What are you doing?"

"Maksim will not be happy if you carry these things up ten flights. Do not argue. You'll just be wasting your breath again."

I groan. "This is a bit extreme, don't you think?"

He shrugs. "Not if you're a gentleman." He motions for me to go through the door.

I step into the stairwell and mutter, "I guess chivalry isn't dead."

"Not with the Ivanovs or anyone in their employ," he replies.

We walk the ten flights of stairs rather quickly. I'm used to it, but when we get to the top, I tease Adrian, "That was impressive. Guess you're used to cardio."

"I run ten miles a day."

"Ten miles," I shriek.

He chuckles and opens the door. "Yep."

I step out and freeze.

Oh, crap. Not now.

Peter is sitting outside my door. His arms hug his shins, and his face is in his knees.

I quicken my stride. I stop in front of him. "What are you doing here?"

He jumps up. "Waiting for you. We need to talk."

"We did last night. There's nothing left to say. It's over. We're over. Don't keep coming here."

"We aren't over. Stop being stubborn."

"I'm not!"

Peter reaches for my face, but Adrian grabs his arm and bends it behind his back. He growls, "Don't touch her."

Peter's eyes widen in fear and surprise. "What the—"

Adrian pushes me back with his other hand and steps between Peter and me. "I believe Aspen told you not to come back. The next time I see you here, you're leaving in a body bag."

"Don't threaten me," Peter blurts out.

Adrian spins him into a headlock and keeps his arm pinned.

"Argh," Peter wails.

"Adrian," I cry out, scared he's going to break Peter's arm or kill him.

Adrian doesn't back down, and Peter continues to whimper. His face grows red as he winces.

"Adrian!"

Adrian leans into Peter's ear and says something so low I can't hear it.

Peter chokes and nods, and Adrian finally releases him. He sternly counts down from ten.

Peter gives me a quick, angry glance, then scurries into the stairwell.

I spin to Adrian. "Was that necessary?"

His face hardens. "Yes."

"No, it wasn't," I insist. I don't like Peter coming around, but I also don't condone violence.

The blues in Adrian's eyes pool together in cold confidence. "You're under Maksim's protection. Anyone who comes near you and doesn't listen when you tell them to leave you alone will be considered a threat."

What am I getting into with Maksim?

This is how he handles things?

He has warned me from day one about who he is. Have I not been listening?

I break my gaze with Adrian and pick my purse and the roses off the floor where he dropped them. I fish my keys out and open the door to my apartment. I don't say goodbye or thank you. I'm still too shaken up and upset over what he did. But most of all, I'm scared.

I lock and deadbolt the door behind me. Adrian won't hurt me or force his way in, I'm sure of it. But I have an urge to put a security blanket over myself and never come out.

I sit on my bed and question everything about Maksim and me.

Why am I pushing to be with someone who leads me down a dangerous path?

I try to convince myself to text Maksim and tell him I've changed my mind, and we shouldn't pursue anything between us. But I can't. I stare at the notes on my nightstand, feeling all the aches of not having him in my life for the last few weeks.

I rise and go through the motions of getting ready. I take a shower and shave. I put all my effort into doing my hair and makeup. I put on a pair of black leather pants, a form-fitting, black top, and my four-inch ankle boots.

I sit on my couch, nervously tapping my fingers on my leg, not sure if I should go or not.

Men's mumbled voices and Russian accents leak through my front door. I peek through the peephole and am shocked to find Adrian still outside.

Has he been here the entire time?

Maksim sounds and looks angry.

I open the door, and their conversation halts. Maksim looks at me. His eyes light up, but then his expression falls. He swiftly steps inside, shuts the door, and pulls me into his arms, palming my head.

I melt into him. It makes any decision no longer a choice. I can't debate about what's the right or wrong thing for me to do. All I can do is inhale bergamot and cardamom and listen to his heartbeat.

"My krasotka, you are not all right."

I'm not sure how to reply. I slide my arms around him, not wanting to be anywhere, except in his embrace.

Several minutes pass, and I wonder if his heart or mine races faster.

He slowly tilts my head up. His blue eyes swirl with darkness. "I will not allow any man to harass or harm you. Whether you come with me or not, you are under my protection now and in the future. This will not change, and I will not lie about it."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Peter is harmless." It comes out less confident than I want it to, but part of me doesn't understand Peter's latest obsession with coming to my apartment, either.

"He's already left bruises on you. His desperation will only grow. I know about these things."

"How?"

Maksim's jaw clenches. "It doesn't matter how. I do. And I won't allow him to bother you in any way."

I stay quiet, a mix of thoughts confusing me. Part of me does want his protection. But it also feels selfish to want anyone to get hurt because of me.

Anguish fills Maksim's eyes. "Have I lost you before I've told you the entire truth of who I am?"

My reaction isn't calculated. It's quick and without thought. I reach up and cup his cheeks. Before I can stop the words, they rush out. "I already know I can't lose you."

Relief fills his face. He kisses me, stirring every bit of life I have left, deepening my craving to be his forever. When he pulls back, he doesn't say anything. He takes my coat off the stand, holds it open, and I slip into it. He leads me down the stairs and outside the building where a snow-covered Adrian is waiting.

We get into the car. Maksim slides me onto his lap, and our lips and tongues duel in a blaze of need. The entire ride to his penthouse, we stay lip locked. I forget about everything, except him and how he makes me feel.