Sergei

  "Hush."

  Thinking he was trying to shush my half-hearted protests, I turned back toward him. I fully expected him to kiss me now, but instead I found him staring at my open bedroom door. His entire body had gone rigid. "What is—?"

  I didn't get the rest of my question out. He placed his fingertips against my mouth, gently silencing me as he listened for something. Holding my breath, I strained to hear whatever it was that had killed his amorous mood.

  A long, whining creak pierced the night. My heart leapt into my throat as the unmistakable tap of footsteps met my ears. Someone was walking across back porch directly beneath my bedroom!

  In a flash of movement so fast it startled me, Sergei moved off the bed. He hefted me up off the mattress and hurriedly pushed me toward the bathroom. After dropping a quick kiss on the top of my head, he shoved me inside the room. "Lock the door."

  It clicked shut softly behind him as he disappeared. Stunned by the way he had switched from lover to protector in the blink of an eye, I stared at the closed door. A few seconds later, I shook myself from the stupor and wondered what I was supposed to do now.

  Locking the door and waiting for Sergei's return was probably the safest course of action…but what if he got hurt? What if the creep prowling around my house was armed? The thought of Sergei being shot or stabbed made me sick.

  Disobeying Sergei's direct order, I left the bathroom and scurried across my bedroom in search of my phone. Slipping back into my chemise and robe, I dialed 9-1-1 and prayed the police would get here before anything bad happened.

  Chapter Eight

  Out for blood, Sergei slowly unlocked the front door and slipped onto the porch. The newly installed door opened with barely a whisper of noise, permitting him to leave the house without alerting the asshole creeping around Bianca's property. Sticking to the shadows, he edged the front of the house and carefully rounded the corner of the wraparound porch.

  As he crept along the right side of her home, he listened carefully for any indication that the prowler was walking toward him. Hearing nothing, he wondered if the man had gone off into the grass or if he'd already made his way to the left side of the house. Over the soundtrack of crickets and cicadas, Sergei detected a low, creaking groan as weight settled on an old wooden step. A second later, wood crunched and splintered and a grunt of pain filled the air.

  Got you!

  Earlier, when coming back from parking his SUV, Sergei had noticed the step along the back needed to be ripped out and replaced. He had actually been surprised it bore his weight without snapping. Apparently, the prowler hadn't been so lucky.

  Running around the porch, Sergei spotted the lumpy shadow of a man crouched on the ground. "Hey!"

  The prowler's head popped up, but it was too dark in the backyard for Sergei to get a good look at him. He seemed to be a medium-sized man. The bastard had quick reflexes and leapt to his feet, dashing around the side of the house and disappearing.

  As Sergei made chase, he realized the man knew the neighborhood well because he had taken a shortcut from Bianca's yard that spit him out on the side street. Irritated that he had lost the man, Sergei relied on his instincts and took a hard left.

  Wearing only his running shorts and sneakers, he silently scolded himself for not grabbing something to defend himself. He had left his gun tucked away in his vehicle because he had been more interested in getting inside the shower with Bianca. If Nikolai could see him now, he would surely make a quip about thinking with his little head instead of the bigger one.

  Coming to a corner, Sergei slowed his pace. He followed the curve cautiously and spotted an alley up ahead. The dark roadway between tall privacy fences was too shadowy for him to scout properly. The man he was chasing had probably taken up a position there to ambush him and inflict an injury.

  The sound of running footsteps ricocheted off the privacy fences. The sound grew louder and sharper, telling Sergei the man was headed right for him. Hugging the closest fence, Sergei prepared to attack the man when he burst out of the protective shadows. Hands clenched, he lifted his arms high and counted down the seconds until he struck. The footsteps drew nearer, and Sergei swung his arms toward the oncoming man, fully intending to clothesline the creep.

  But when the man burst out of the alley, Sergei's eyes widened with shock. It wasn't a prowler. It was a police officer on a foot pursuit!

  He stopped the downward motion of his arms before it was too late, reacting with lightning speed to avoid hitting a man who could make his life very miserable. The officer spotted him and jumped back, drawing his weapon and pointing it right at Sergei's chest. "Hands in the air!"

  Shit.

  Complying instantly, Sergei threw up his hands. "I thought you were the prowler bothering my girlfriend. I wasn’t trying to hurt you."

  The officer didn't lower his gun even a fraction of a centimeter. With the business end trained on Sergei's heart, the officer stepped forward into the light. He was close to Sergei's age and had skin the same shade as Bianca's. Not one to fuck around, the man barked an order. "Turn around. Hands on the back of your head. Spread your feet."

  Irritated with the bullshit pat-down, Sergei nevertheless did as commanded. He had always managed to stay on the right side of the law and wasn't about to risk that tonight. The officer roughly frisked Sergei but found no weapon. "Face me again."

  Staring down at the cop, Sergei kept his hands on his head. "Did you see the man I was chasing?"

  "I did. Funny thing. He looked sort of like you."

  "No." Sergei's internal alarms clanged. It would be a cold day in hell before he let the police pin this on him. "If I was a prowler, would I be dressed like this? No! The guy I was chasing was shorter than me and not as big. I followed him out of my girlfriend's yard and out this way."

  "Right." The officer wasn't buying Sergei's story. "I'm supposed to believe a mobbed-up son of a bitch like you has a girlfriend who lives in this neighborhood? I thought you guys all dated strippers from Sugar's and waitresses from Samovar?"

  Sergei's eyes narrowed. Not bothering to deny or argue with the man, he continued to play nice, but it was obvious the cop had his number. The fact that a beat cop recognized him on sight made him slightly nervous. This was something Nikolai would want to know. Was there some new legal trouble brewing?

  "Take me back to my girlfriend's house. She'll tell you the truth."

  "Yeah? And just who is this girlfriend of yours?"

  "Bianca Bradshaw. She lives at—"

  "I know where Bibi lives," the police officer interjected sharply. "And I know that she doesn't have anything to do with lowlifes like you." Stepping toward him, his gun still drawn, the cop growled, "Were you trying to rob her? Rape her? Maybe you're trying to strong-arm her into selling her business because you Russian mob pricks want her building?"

  Bibi? Jealous that this cop had a nickname for his woman and that the prick would even insinuate that he would do anything so cruel to her, Sergei snarled, "You're crazy. She's my girlfriend. I was trying to protect her."

  "We'll see about that." The police officer pulled his cuffs free from his belt and gestured for Sergei to lower his hands. "I'm sure you know the drill."

  Clenching his teeth, Sergei turned around and presented his wrists to be cuffed. The cop made sure to tighten them a notch too far. Pushing Sergei's thumbs into a stress position that sent pain shooting up his arms, the officer perp-walked him back down the alley to an idling cruiser. He shoved Sergei into the cramped backseat and made radio contact with his dispatch center.

  "I don't suppose you've got your license tucked into your shorts?"

  With his knees shoved up toward his chest and his shoulders hunched, Sergei glared at the police officer's reflection in the rearview mirror and rattled off his name, address, birth date and driver's license number. The cop showed surprise when the dispatcher relayed that Sergei had no outstanding warrants. Checking the computer screen mounted just above the console, the offi
cer voiced his doubt when he saw that Sergei had never even had a parking ticket.

  Keeping his mouth shut, Sergei stared out the window as the cop drove him back to Bianca's house. Whoever this guy was, he seemed intent on embarrassing Sergei. He was going to have to do a lot worse than this. Not that Sergei relished the idea of showing up on Bianca's doorstep in handcuffs. After trying to show her that he was better than his criminal ties, this episode wasn't going to help his case.

  The cruiser rolled to a stop at the curb outside her house. The lights in the master bedroom, living room and entryway were on which meant she had gone against his order and left that bathroom. He had put her there for a reason. He had needed to know she was safely tucked away in case he crossed paths with the prowler inside the house. If he'd struck out blindly at a shadowy figure, he would have been confident that it wasn't Bianca getting caught in the crossfire.

  The cop dragged him out of the backseat and marched him up the sidewalk. They hadn't even reached the top step before the front door jerked open and Bianca appeared in a whirl of blush pink silk. She had a phone to her ear and hurriedly ended the call. Stepping onto the porch, she cast shocked eyes on him. "Sergei!"

  Before he could explain his cuffed state, the police officer stepped into the light beside him. Bianca's sharp intake of breath warned Sergei he was about to hear something he didn't like.

  "Kevan!"

  The name spurred a memory. Of course. Hadn't she mentioned the ex-boyfriend she had gone to for help when the prowler first started bothering her? Now the perfect-for-her ex had him cuffed. Great. Just. Fucking. Great.

  "Hey, Bibi." Kevan was all charm now. "Sorry to bother you so late."

  "It's fine." Wringing her hands, she asked, "Is there a reason Sergei is cuffed?"

  "I was the closest guy to your house when the 9-1-1 report of a prowler came across the radio. I saw the suspect duck into an alley so I chased him and this guy jumped out of the shadows and tried to punch me."

  Mouth agape, Bianca stared at Sergei. His chest tightened as he waited for her to jump to the wrong conclusion. "No, that doesn’t sound like Sergei at all. He wouldn't hit a police officer."

  The corners of Sergei's mouth lifted with a pleased smile. Once he had discovered she had history with the cop, Sergei had been sure she would take the officer's word over his. It wasn't often that he was proven wrong, but he relished the unnatural feeling this time.

  "Do you know who this guy is?" Kevan didn't sound very happy. "He's trouble, Bibi."

  "I'm not twelve years old, Kevan. I don't need a lecture."

  The police officer stepped forward, moving close enough to Bianca that Sergei's alpha instincts screamed for him to react. Shoving them down, he refused to take the bait. Instead, he glared murderously at the cop's back as the man whispered to Bianca.

  "Perry was my best friend, and I know he'd want me to look out for you."

  Bianca reached out to touch Kevan, softly rubbing his upper arm in a kind, all too familiar gesture that made Sergei's stomach lurch. "I appreciate you keeping an eye out for me, but I’m a big girl, Kevan." Lowering her voice, she added quickly, "We've talked about this before, remember?"

  The officer went ramrod straight, his reaction similar to a man who had just been slapped. Sergei wondered at the interplay between the two acquaintances. Why, exactly, had Bianca cut things off with her brother's friend? From what Sergei could tell, the guy was basically her dream man. Kevan fit into her life much more neatly than he ever would.

  Stepping back beside Sergei, Kevan dug out his keys. "Since you're in my territory, I've been adding extra passes by your place when I'm on shift. I'll make sure the others guys on this beat do the same thing. We'll catch this guy, Bibi."

  "Thank you, Kevan."

  "It's no problem, Bibi. I'm always here for you. All you have to do is call, and I'll come running."

  "I know. I appreciate that."

  Kevan unlatched the too-tight cuffs and removed them. As he tucked the manacles into the holster on his belt, he turned to Bianca and offered a sly smile. "I'm glad I finally got to see you in that pink silk. I knew it would be beautiful on you."

  The knowledge that Bianca was wearing lingerie this man had bought for her hit Sergei like a fist to the gut. She refused to meet his gaze but smiled timidly at Kevan. "Um…thanks."

  "Your birthday is coming up. Maybe I'll have to get you something in red."

  Sergei's nostrils flared as the man blatantly came on to Bianca. If he hadn't been wearing a uniform, the smug little bastard would have found himself on the receiving end of Sergei's fist. The guy had crossed the line too many times. Presenting him at Bianca's door in handcuffs had been bad enough but to stand there and flirt with her? It was too much.

  As if sensing that Sergei hovered on the edge, Bianca grasped his hand and tugged him toward her. She shot him a pleading look, and he exhaled the pent-up breath puffing out his chest. Sliding his arm around her smaller shoulders, he publicly staked his claim on her. She put a gentle hand to his bare stomach and petted him in slow circles.

  Holding Kevan's irritated gaze, Sergei reminded the man who Bianca wanted now. "Come on, Bianca. Let's go back to bed."

  "Okay." Smiling at the police officer, she bid him farewell. "Night, Kevan."

  "Good night, Bianca. I hope I'll see you at Lulu and Corey's wedding. If you need a ride or anything—"

  "She's got a ride and a date." Sergei stepped in front of Bianca, blocking her from Kevan's view. "Good night, Officer. I'm sure you have criminals to chase."

  "Yep." Kevan backed away from the house. "In fact, I've got my eye on one right now."

  Sergei watched the police officer return to his cruiser and drive away from the curb before turning toward Bianca. Gripping her robe in her hands, she looked up at him with apprehension—and fear. Exhaling with exasperation, he asked, "Are you really afraid of me?"

  She closely examined his face. Whatever she saw calmed her nerves. Her shoulders relaxed, and she released the tight grasp on her robe. "No."

  "I would never hurt you. Never." Sweeping the long, black curls from her face and tucking them behind her ear, he added, "Especially not after the way you defended me."

  "You're too smart to hit a police officer and much too careful to swing blindly." She tugged on his hand. "Come inside."

  He followed her inside the house and locked the door. Facing her, he leaned back against it and decided to just get it all out there on the table. "So this cop Kevan?"

  To her credit, she didn't drop her gaze or avoid looking at him. "He and my brother were best friends. After Perry was murdered, he stepped into that older brother role for me. Eventually, our relationship changed, and we tried dating."

  "But?"

  She shrugged. "He's a great guy but he's not right for me."

  "Because?"

  "I don't know. It didn't feel right." She paused and then gestured between her body and his. "It never felt anything like what we have."

  His irritation with Kevan fled. "What we have is better?"

  She nodded. "Stronger. Deeper. Real."

  Trying not to break out into a goofy grin at her admission, he glanced away briefly. His gaze settled on the fully illuminated living room. "Why did you disobey me?"

  "I’m sorry. Are you my father now?"

  He met her aggravated gaze head-on. "No, but I was trying to keep you safe."

  "Well, I was trying to keep you safe. You went running out of the house without any shoes or a shirt or a weapon. You could have been shot or stabbed!"

  Sergei's heart swelled upon hearing her say that she had wanted to protect him. Even so, she needed to be more cautious. "We'll get a cheap burner phone for your bathroom and keep it plugged in there. That way you'll always have a phone to call 9-1-1, even if you're hiding behind a locked door."

  "Seriously?"

  "Yes." Upon further consideration, he said, "Actually, we should probably look into converting that master bedroom closet into a
panic room. We could put in a reinforced door and—"

  "Sergei, this is Houston, not war-torn Somalia! I don't need a panic room in my house."

  "Every home needs a safe place," he countered.

  "Sergei…"

  He slashed his hand through the air. "It's late. We'll discuss it tomorrow."

  She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue with him. "Fine. Let's go to bed."

  "Not yet," he said and pushed off the door. Touching the pink silk robe, he experienced a fresh wave of jealousy. "Take this off."

  Her dark eyes flashed with surprise—and excitement. "Are you serious?"

  "Now, Bianca."

  She gulped and did as he ordered. Peeling out of the robe, she handed it over to him. Without having to be asked, she removed the pretty chemise too. When she placed it on his hand, she didn't immediately let go. He wondered if she was having second thoughts about his possessive reaction, but she seemed curious.

  "Did you mean it, Sergei?"

  "Mean what, milaya moya?"

  "That you're taking me to Lulu and Corey's wedding?"

  "We're together now, aren't we?"

  "Yes."

  "So we go to weddings together," he answered simply. "Of course, I should probably ask who these people are."

  She smiled. "Lulu is my cousin, and Corey is one of Perry's friends." Her mouth settled into a nervous line. "Kevan will be there. He's one of Corey's groomsmen so if this is going to be a problem…"

  "It won't be a problem. I'll be on my best behavior." He drew a cross over his heart. "Promise."

  "I'm holding you to that." She released the chemise into his hand. "So now what? Are you going to tear that up and burn it?"

  "No." He paused to reconsider her question. "Well—I'm definitely not going to burn it."

  She laughed softly. "You're something else, you know that? It's just a nightgown. It doesn't mean anything."