Mafia Enforcer's Sassy Lover (The Karzhov Crime Family Series Book 4) Read online

  Frowning, Kos pushed open the door. He caught sight of black boots a cropped T-shirt, denim skirt, and tights on the floor. He swallowed. Hard.

  Eyes narrowing, and still smarting over her earlier attitude, he decided a little payback was in order. He glanced at the tub and saw a tousle of black hair, the purple tips pulled up into a careless knot. He grinned. She had her head tipped back, her eyes closed and earbuds trailing from dainty ears.

  Tucking his Sig back in its holster, he stooped and gathered up her clothing. He grabbed the towels and left one very small hand towel. Backing out of the bathroom, he tossed her clothing and the towels on the floor, dropped the pile of towels he still carried in his arms on the floor next to the door. He grinned. The night had just become far more interesting than he had anticipated. He sat down on the bed to wait.

  Chapter 7

  A faint worry niggled at Tori. She sat up and opened her eyes, the relaxation of a moment ago cooling even faster than the bath water. Pulling her earbuds from her ears, she shut off her phone, and placed it on the edge of the tub. She glanced at the bathroom door. It stood open a crack. She tensed.

  Her clothes were missing.

  Heart thumping, she surged from the tub. She stared at the empty towel racks. A single hand towel sat next to the sink. She shivered and goose bumps rose on her skin. She swallowed down her fear and wet her lips. This is like a scene from some B-rated slasher movie. Shivering, she stepped from the tub and onto the bath rug. At least that was still there. Reaching for the bathroom door, she slammed it shut and threw the lock. She would have privacy for the next few minutes.

  She used the small hand towel to dry her body. She also started opening every door she could reach, hoping to find something she might use as a weapon.

  She found a comb, a hair dryer, her emergency makeup kit, and two bottles of nail polish. Great! I can stun my assailant with perfectly styled hair and glittering nails! She hefted the hair dryer—she might at least be able to use it as a club. A really weak, plastic club. She let out a long breath and slammed shut the medicine chest. She closed her eyes—what was she going to do if Raul had come back? The doorknob rattled. She looked at the door and held the hand towel against her chest. Would the door splinter next from a kick?

  “Tori?”

  She straightened. That deep male voice had a slight accent—and it wasn’t Raul’s accent.

  The doorknob rattled again. She held her breath just in case he came waltzing through the door.

  Kostya? What was he doing back here? He was supposed to stay in a hotel tonight! She slapped her forehead. Raul hadn’t said a hotel—he’d said the Russian was going to make his own arrangements. Dragging in a breath, Tori decided she’d have to come up with an excuse for why she was here. Meantime, the best defense….

  She lifted her voice and yelled at the door, “Kostya? Did you take my clothes?”

  “Come out and we shall discuss how you can get them back.”

  “Is this some sort of stupid game you Russians like to play? I can tell you right now, I’m not having fun!”

  “A game is exactly what I have in mind. It is called eating the words you throw at another. Open the door and join me. I brought the rest of your wine and your glass is waiting for you.”

  “I’m not thirsty. Tell you what, how about you head into the kitchen and we’ll talk there. Or you can talk and I’ll listen. I realize I might have gone a little overboard today, but I can explain.”

  “Ah, I look forward to that.” She heard a smile in his voice. A distinctly wolfish one.

  The bathroom was rapidly cooling. Tori shivered and not just from being naked. She grabbed a breath to prevent herself from screaming in frustration. And you thought he was hot and that you wouldn’t mind falling into bed with him? What were you thinking?

  She looked at her reflection in the mirror and realized she only had two options. Go out a cowering, embarrassed mess and beg his forgiveness, or storm the castle, take the bull by the horns and make that Russian sorry for messing with a real woman! She knew she was mixing her metaphors, but plan B sounded so much better than playing the simpering, weak female.

  She opened one of the drawers and yanked out her emergency makeup bag from the back. She swiped on makeup with seduction in mind. Dark shadow for smoky eyes. Mascara. Blood red lipstick. She combed and dried her hair, making sure it hung killer straight.

  “Tori, what are you doing in there?” Kostya called. He sounded impatient.

  Good, you crazy Russian, you.

  She glanced in the mirror. She’d always thought she felt naked without her makeup. Now she was pretty sure she could only feel naked because she was naked. She wasn’t ashamed of her body. She had a flat stomach, courtesy of the Pilates classes she had taken for years. She hadn’t been able to attend for the last few months, but she still worked out here whenever she could. She went for pale skin—no tan lines showing. The purple tips of her hair brought out the violet of her eyes—too bad she couldn’t quite manage a Lady Godiva look with hair covering the basics. At least her breasts didn’t have a sag in sight! And she had her tats.

  A pair of angel wings covered her upper shoulder blades. A lacy filigree sat at the base of her spine, right above the dimples of her ass. A dragon graced her upper left chest, its tail running around and between her breasts. And scrolled words circled her belly button with a reminder to her to always be true to herself. The silver belly button ring matched the small rings that adorned her ears, as well as those that hung from the tips of her nipples.

  She nodded and summoned again for her reflection. That Russian thought he had the upper hand, but he was about to find out that Tori Graystone didn’t do anything in half measures.

  And…okay, maybe she would apologize for being a little mouthy, that is if he was still thinking of making her pay once he got a good look at her. She didn’t think she was conceited. She simply knew men were predictable. Show them a well-proportioned woman without any clothes on and the brain shut off.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, she opened the bathroom door, tossed the tiny hand towel at Kostya and walked into the bedroom. She took a look around her. He had gathered candles from god knew where. The room took on a soft glow of flickering light.

  Wow—she hadn’t expected this.

  The Russian stood facing the bathroom door, his arms crossed and his feet planted wide. He also looked as if someone had hit him upside the head. He stared at her, his mouth open slightly. She could see the pulse beating rapid and unsteady in his throat. He closed his mouth and opened it again, as if he’d lost his words.

  Her own pulse skipped a few beats and she could feel the flush warming her skin, but dammit, she was going to do this. She propped a hand on her hip. “So—where’s my wine?”

  Chapter 8

  Kostya had seen naked women before. How could you not in Las Vegas? Strippers, dancers—a woman was a woman. But this… he was not prepared for the vision that stepped from the bathroom! The light of the vanity lights casting a halo of light behind her. She stood tall and proud, like a goddess, her tattoos bright swirls of colors against her skin. And her…piercings. Holy Mother of God! He’d thought her gorgeous before, but naked she was every man’s wet dream and then some. She wore her bare skin as if she dressed in the finest fabric. His jeans tightened and his breath caught in his chest. His heart hammered against his ribs.

  This might not have been his best idea of the day!

  The arrogance she had shown earlier came back in full force. Giving him a smile full of promise, she sauntered towards him, stopping only when she stood mere inches from him. If he leaned forward he would brush across those dangling rings that tempted him.

  “See something you like?” She asked. He immediately knew that she was playing with him—and faking most of her bravado. This close he could see the pulse skitter against her skin below her throat. Her voice quivered and her pupils tightened to small points. Narrowing his eyes, he decided to see how far she
was willing to take this. “What do you think?”

  She reached out and walked her fingertips down from his shoulder until she reached the center of his chest. “I think you might have underestimated me.”

  That goes both ways, sweetheart! Kostya looked down at her. Without the extra height of her boots, she stood almost half a foot shorter than he did. He reached out and wrapped the purple tips of her hair around his finger. “Why purple?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “Someone told me it was the color of royalty. I decided I’m as royal as the next girl, so…” She tossed her hair back. “I’m only trying the color out right now.”

  He let the purple strands fall from his fingers. They fell like folds of silk. That flowery scent from the bathroom wove around him, leaving him dizzy.

  “To see if I want to die all of my hair this color.”

  He heard her words but couldn’t quite make sense of them. Shaking his head, he said, “I like it. Just like this. It makes you look edgy.”

  She smiled. “Well, I am edgy.”

  He gave a small laugh and took a step closer. Her bare breasts brushed against his shirt. He’d taken off his jacket and had rolled up his sleeves.

  She looked away from his eyes and her gaze seem to catch on way too much exposed skin. She traced the edge of one of his tattoos which was just barely visible. “Looks like nice work—do you mind?”

  He waved a hand. That creamy skin, those lush breasts…all of her kept distracting him. His mouth dried.

  She began to unbutton his shirt, her gaze following the lines of the tattoo. She spread his shirt open and stared at the avenging angel tattooed across his pectoral muscle and over his heart. With gentle fingers, she traced the wings, and then the flowing lines of the angel’s gown..

  She lifted her eyes to his. “What does it—?”

  He put a finger on her lips. “Do not ask questions if you are not ready to hear answers.”

  She dropped her hands from him and stepped back. “Why are you so angry?”

  “I am not angry!”

  “Okay, why do you sound so angry?”

  Kostya gritted his back teeth. He was not going to give into the urge to pick her up and toss her on the bed and apply that spanking he so wanted to give her earlier. That…that would be even more unwise than this plan had been. His skin seemed to burn from within and his thoughts skittered away, always going back to her.

  When she had first started unbuttoning his shirt, he’d expected another sexual assault from her. But she had begun tracing the wings of the angel he’d had tattooed on his chest after Talia’s death, her touch gentle and so soft. She had seemed enthralled with the image on his skin—and he had become furious with himself.

  She is nothing like Talia! Nothing! And she can be nothing to me!

  Pulling in a breath through his nose, he forced his jaw to relax. “What makes you think that?”

  Tori shrugged. “I…the look in your eyes, I guess. Your voice. You’re angry, but not at me. At least not anymore.”

  Stunned by her intuition he eased away a step. “This is not why we are here. You are here to try and win your clothes back”

  She crossed her arms and seemed to realize all over she was naked. Skin turning pink, she dropped her arms and then waved them out to the sides. “I’m not playing until I know what the angel represents.”

  He shook his head. “Why must it represent anything? It is an angel.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Dude, no one gets a tat like that just because. That’s a lot of ink, meaning a lot of pain getting it. That’s not some freaking star on your wrist that you get on a dare or because you’ve had too much tequila!”

  He blinked at her. “People get tattoos for those reasons?”

  Her voice dropped lower. “What was her name? She’s dead, isn’t she? That’s why it’s an angel. She’s looking after you now from up there.” She gestured to the sky.

  Kostya sighed and shook his head. He didn’t discuss Talia. Ever. Especially not with any women he bedded. That had always seemed like the ultimate betrayal of the relationship he’d had with his Talia. But he was not bedding this woman—this…this rebellious child. No. She was an employee who must be taught her place in the organization and that place was not here! He cut the air with the flat of his hand. “That doesn’t matter.” He took a breath and then released it, letting his anger flow away with his breath. “I think you should be more concerned about yourself right now, than my tattoos.”

  Tori glared at him, her eyes narrowed. She shook her head and pushed her shoulders back. Taking a side step, she grabbed the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her. “Look, Ruskie, just what game are we playing here? I think I’d like to get all the cards on the table!”

  Kostya had to hide a smile when she covered herself. He gave a nod. Perhaps she was wise with these cards on the table. “Let us start with why you were so defensive and sarcastic earlier when I was asking about the warehouse plants?”

  Tori swallowed and looked down for a moment. When she looked up again, she looked sincerely sorry. “Yeah, I’m a little touchy about the way the warehouse runs. When Terrence was around…” She let the words trail and gave a low growl “That bastard didn’t give a shit about things. You haven’t seen the southern warehouse—”

  “I have.”

  Tori blinked. “You have?”

  Kostya nodded. “Raul showed me. Before we went to the club.”

  “Well, goody-two-shoes for you. Okay, maybe you can understand. That is what things looked like when Terrence runs things. The best thing he ever did for this part of the operation was stay away. And now I can’t tell if you’re going to be another Terrance—or something worse!”

  Chapter 9

  Kostya crossed his arms tightly. He figured it would help him not reach out and pull that blanket away from her. But he could not forget what she looked like naked. And those rings of hers that hung from her nipples—what would she do if he took one into his mouth and tugged on it. He cleared his throat. She’d brought the conversation around to the topic he had wanted to discuss. He must focus on that.

  “Continue. I am interested to know why you felt it was all right to all this?” He waved a hand at the room. He really should turn on some bright lights, but he had to admit she had made his evening far more interesting than he had anticipated. “Is there something wrong with your vehicle that prevented you from leaving?”

  She could have easily jumped at such an excuse—he had given her an easy lie. She shook her head. “Look it’s not my style to lie. Well, I mean not unless I really, really have to. I’d rather be upfront with everyone. If you don’t like it, you can go jump in a lake. I mean, not that I want you to jump in anything, but it’s…you know, I’m not trying to live my life for others. And… and, my car is fine. Well, as fine as a 1967 Volkswagen can be. It’s running. Mostly.”

  Kostya shook his head. “Talking to you is like walking in a circle. You haven’t explained anything.”

  “Do I have to?” She started to wave a hand. The blanket slipped and she caught it. “It’s dumb, I know, and yeah, I probably should have known this was going to happen. In a way I’m lucky it was you. I mean, if Raul had walked in on me…”

  She shivered, shook her head, and let out a long breath. “I mean, major ick factor, right?” Truth is, I’ve been staying here for a while now.”

  “Raul didn’t know?” Kostya knew the answer, but he wanted her to tell him the truth. He would know from her answer if he could ever trust this woman.

  Tori shook her head, “No. Raul hasn’t been here in four months. No one knows I’ve been staying here.” She sank down on the edge of the bed. “God, I am so fired now! All to save…” She cut off the words and bit her lower lip.

  He frowned. This was not just a matter of her using this place for the pure luxury of it. Something else was going on here.

  “Does Raul not pay you enough?” Kostya asked. He was trying to understand what would have
prompted the young woman sitting in front of him to jeopardize her job and possibly her life. He had seen the way Raul had looked at her. And how Raul snuck in small touches of her, even going so far as to slip his hand onto her under the table. If Raul had found her naked in the bathtub, he could guess the outcome. Raul would have used her as he pleased.

  Turning from her, he flicked on the bedroom lights and snuffed the candles. He came back to stand over her. “You don’t seem stupid.”

  She stiffened. “Well, gee, thanks a ton.”

  “So why do you take such risks?”

  Fingering the blanket she kept wrapped around her, she told him about her building being condemned and the deplorable living conditions of any nearby apartments. “I wanted a place where I could feel safe.”

  She looked up at him.

  Kos shook his head. She was still holding back on something. Why didn’t she want to spend her salary on a decent place to live?

  He pushed out a breath. He supposed that was her business.

  “It pleases me that you value your safety, but your presence here belies that. You heard Raul offer me the use of this facility during my stay.”

  “But you said…” She stood up and poked him in the chest with one finger. “Hey, do you think I staged this? That I’m…I’m some scheming bitch trying to get into your pants to get ahead? Like I’d do that after trying to take you down a few pegs!” Kos smiled and shook his head. “You blow hot and cold—I don’t pretend to know what you are thinking”

  She stared at him, her eyes narrowed. “Are you…not a fan of women? I mean, I’ve heard about the type of clubs Raul likes, and…” She shook her head and the purple tips of her hair swung. “So not my scene. We’re talking worse than skanks here—you know, the type who are looking for the next fix and don’t care how they get it. And I don’t mean to judge—hey, I’m easy going, but I’m also not into stuff that gives you disease. Or worse.” Her forehead wrinkled with a frown. “So just what is your scene?”