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  "Big V wants you to know he just let Miss Cruz through the front door. You said you wanted to be informed anytime she visited the club."

  Though he schooled his expression and stayed cool and reserved on the outside, Yuri experienced a surge of excitement. His heartbeat sprinted at the idea of seeing her again. She hadn't ever come to his club alone. Usually it was Erin who dragged her along. Why had she come here tonight?

  A flutter of hope invaded his chest but he batted it away quickly. If there was one thing he'd learned about Lena Cruz, it was that she was never predictable.

  "Bring her to me, Derek."

  "Yes, sir."

  After his bodyguard left, Yuri rose from his comfortable perch and moved to the balcony overlooking the dance floor. His searching gaze zeroed in on Lena. Even at this distance, she knocked the air right out of his lungs.

  Tonight she wore a curve-hugging dress. The pale turquoise skirt and black strapless top outlined her sexy shape perfectly. Waves of dark hair tumbled around her bare shoulders. She managed to meld together the perfect mix of flirty but classy.

  Like him, the men on the dance floor couldn't keep their eyes off her. A few guys tried to dance up against her but she froze them in place with that icy glare. In his entire life, Yuri had known only one other person who could send people fleeing with one look—and that was Nikolai. He knew exactly how Nikolai had developed that particular talent but Lena was more of a mystery to him.

  Jake, his other bodyguard, got close to Lena. He whispered in her ear and gestured to the private VIP section. Her gaze jumped to the balcony. Instead of the smile he'd hoped to see, Yuri received only a frown. Anger glinted in her dark eyes. Something told him this wasn't going to be a conversation he was going to enjoy.

  Steeled for the worst, he backed away from the railing. If there had been more time, he would have ordered a stiff drink. His gut clenched with nervousness. When was the last time any woman had affected him like this?

  Lena stepped through the gauzy curtain separating this private section from the rest of the VIP area. God, but she was even prettier this close. His gaze drifted to those red, pouty lips of hers. What he wouldn't give for the chance to claim them just once!

  "I thought we were friends, Yuri."

  Frowning, he insisted, "We are."

  "Are we?" She took another step toward him. Finger raised, she jabbed at the air between them. "When you found out how Harry stole my ideas and used them to get hired by your company, you promised me you were going to let him go. You swore to me that you didn't like to do dirty business."

  "I did let him go, and I don't like dirty business dealings."

  "Bullshit!" She angrily gestured over her shoulder. "I just walked through a VIP room packed with the party I arranged for 716. Someone at your club paid one of the bouncers at 716 to switch out the priority wristbands so my party would be turned away at the door and come here. That's so shady, Yuri."

  He had no idea what she was talking about but believed her version of the tale. She'd never given him any reason to doubt her. "It is," he agreed. "But I didn't have anything to do with it."

  "It's your club, Yuri. I realize you're just the money behind the venture but you set the tone for the employees. If they think they can get away with these kinds of tricks, they will."

  "I'm sorry. I'll look into it." He could see how upset she was about being sabotaged. "Let me make it right. How much money did 716 lose tonight?"

  Her jaw tensed. "I don't want your damn money, Yuri. That's not why I came here."

  "Why did you come here?"

  "I…" Lena's voice trailed off and her shoulders slumped. He witnessed the fight leave her and wondered what the hell she'd been through tonight. Rubbing her forehead, she dropped her gaze and shook her head. "I just couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out of that place and then I got out to the cab and I was just so angry. I wanted to come here and shout at you and tell you off for sabotaging me but—of course—you had to be totally reasonable. Why do you always have to be so damn perfect?"

  He didn't know how to respond to that accusation. Desperate to lighten the tense mood, he joked, "It's a gift."

  She snorted indelicately and wiped at her cheeks. When she lifted her face, Yuri's heart stuttered. Tears shimmered in her dark eyes and dripped onto her cheeks. Taken aback by her unusual display of emotion, he crossed the distance between them in three long strides. "Yelena."

  He stopped when there were only a few inches between them. Her perfume, that breezy scent that he'd always associate with her, called to him. He wanted to slide his arms around her and gather her close but he hesitated.

  Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, he reached inside his jacket and withdrew a handkerchief. She didn't fight him when he dabbed at the wet trails on her cheeks. Looking up at him through those thick eyelashes, Lena presented such an enticing picture. He fought the urge to tip her chin and claim that sensual mouth of hers.

  "I'm sorry." She dropped her gaze in embarrassment. "I shouldn't have come here. Now I'm acting like a hot mess."

  "You're not," he assured her. "I'm glad you came to me." Realizing this was the chance he'd been waiting for, he snatched it. "Let's get out of here. Let's find a quiet place to talk."

  Her lips parted almost immediately and he tensed in anticipation of a rejection. She stunned him by agreeing with a little nod. "Okay. Let's go."

  Hope flared to life deep inside him. The night was young and anything could happen now.

  Chapter Two

  I still couldn't quite believe I was sitting in the backseat of one of Yuri's ridiculously expensive private cars. The sexy as sin Russian billionaire sat mere inches from me. His body heat amplified the subtle citrus notes of his cologne. The seductive scent matched his personality.

  Try as I might, I couldn't deny my attraction to Yuri. He got under my skin in a way no man ever had. I was really starting to understand what Erin and Benny meant when they described the instant attraction to their Russian hunks. Like his best friends Ivan and Dimitri, Yuri possessed that striking ability to be both commanding and incredibly alpha without being controlling or overbearing.

  It infuriated me. I desperately wanted a reason not to like him. He presented too many challenges. Yuri was used to buying what he wanted and I was so not that girl. I'd worked hard to get an education and make it on my own. I sure as heck didn't need a sugar daddy in my life who thought he could keep me happy by buying me nice things.

  Yet here I was, driving through the busy streets of Houston on a Saturday night with him. What the hell are you doing?

  My cell phone rang and rattled around in my purse. It was the third time that particular ringtone had blared since I'd climbed into Yuri's car but I wasn't in any hurry to answer it.

  "Are you going to get that? I don't mind."

  I glanced at Yuri and shook my head. "No."

  His eyebrows arched with surprise. "Is it someone you want to ignore? A boyfriend perhaps?" There was no mistaking the hint of jealousy in his voice.

  "I'm not seeing anyone." Uncertain why I'd confessed to the sad state of my personal life, I grabbed my bag. As I muted my phone, I explained, "It's my cousin, Tommy. He probably wants to borrow money."

  "I see."

  He didn't, I was sure, but I let it go. My thoughts traveled back to Chains at 716. What had he said? Tommy had screwed up a job. I groaned inwardly and prayed my dad wasn't involved in whatever had gone awry.

  For the last few years, my dad had been grooming Tommy to take the reins of the illicit family business. There was only one man in Houston who dealt in pricey stolen goods—and that was my father. It wasn't a fact I advertised. Like much of my family history, it was a detail I kept deliberately vague and quiet. Only Vivian knew the absolute truth of my crazy, sordid family tale. In that department, at least, she had me beat.

  Not wanting to open the door to a discussion of my dysfunctional family, I asked, "So what are we doing?"

  "I don't k
now," he admitted with a surprisingly nervous smile. "What would you like to do?"

  My belly did a little somersault at the sight of his lopsided, boyish grin. "I wouldn't mind a bite to eat."

  Yuri pushed up his cuff and checked his watch. My gaze lingered on the outrageously expensive timepiece. The rich chocolate-brown leather of the wrist band complemented his tanned skin. With that fleet of yachts at his disposal, I wasn't surprised that he kept a tan year-round. "Samovar is still open. I'm sure Nikolai wouldn't mind seating us."

  The Russian restaurant owned by his friend Nikolai was firmly in Yuri's comfort zone. I wondered what it would be like to have him on my turf. "You know what? I have a better idea. It'll be my treat."

  Interest sparked in his hazel eyes. "Your treat, huh? My goodness, it's been a long time since I was wined and dined."

  Laughing softly, I tapped my phone screen to bring up my Twitter timeline. It took me a few seconds of scrolling to find what I needed. My favorite food trucks moved their late-night parking spots every week. This was the only way to keep track. Armed with the address, I sat forward to give the driver directions. "I think you'll like where I’m taking you."

  He murmured something in Russian and I narrowed my eyes. With a wag of my finger, I playfully warned, "None of that, Yuri. Erin and Benny might find it cute when their guys do that but not me."

  Yuri smiled. "You don't think I'm cute?"

  Nervous, I glanced toward the window. "I'm not sure cute is the word I'd use to describe you."

  "Lena?"

  "Yes?"

  "What happened tonight? It wasn't simply the sabotage that brought you to my club."

  For a long moment, I stared out the window and watched the bright lights of the city whiz by us. Finally, I said, "I really hate my job."

  "What?" He sounded so surprised. "But you're so good at it."

  With a soft sigh, I turned to face him. "You can be really good at something and not like it."

  "Is it PR that you don't like or is it the environment of the firm?"

  I considered his query. "The firm," I decided. "It was such a great place to work when I started there as an intern and even at first when they hired me on as a full-time rep."

  "But something changed?"

  I nodded. "My mentor, Lisa, decided to follow her husband to Atlanta where he'd been hired as a big-time neurosurgeon. They didn't promote from within to fill her spot but hired someone from outside the company. I think the cracks started then."

  "Why have you stayed so long?"

  "I don't know," I admitted. "I ask myself that same question all the time. Heck, two months ago, I was having a conversation almost exactly like this one with Benny."

  "And what did she suggest?"

  "That I use my connections, my blog and my huge social media following to strike out on my own."

  "And why didn't you?"

  I shrugged. "Money. Fear."

  "For what it's worth," Yuri said, "I made some of my biggest gains in wealth when I had deals on the table that terrified me. People always say to listen to your gut but sometimes you have to just close your eyes and jump, Lena."

  While I mulled over his advice, he reached out to tap my knee. Our gazes locked in the shadowy backseat. I held my breath and waited for him to speak.

  "You're brilliant, Lena. You have great instincts and innovative ideas. People like you. You're funny and witty and you know how to work your contacts. Will you fall flat on your face if you strike out on your own? No, definitely not. Will you be an overnight success? No. Can you build something successful with a year or two of hard work? Yes. Absolutely."

  I swallowed hard at his vote of confidence. "You seem pretty sure."

  His sexy grin made my tummy wobble. "I'm never wrong."

  I arched an eyebrow. "Never?"

  "Never."

  The car slowed and made a turn into a parking lot bustling with the late-night crowd. Some of the city's hottest chefs ran food trucks on the weekends to cater to the hungry folks coming out of the theaters, art galleries and clubs in the area. Over the last few years, I'd become friendly with Tai and Chuy, two chefs who owned a pair of the city's hippest restaurants.

  When their businesses had started to struggle, I'd pitched the idea of the two of them throwing in together to buy a food truck that offered a delectable mix of their Asian and Mexican cuisines. I'd used my social media platform to push customers their way during those first crucial weeks. They'd become such a huge hit that they were about to launch a second truck that would cater to the downtown medical center crowd.

  As always, I tapped on my phone's screen to update my status and location. Something stopped me. Glancing at Yuri, I asked, "Would it be a really bad idea for me to tag you in this post?"

  Reluctantly, he confirmed my suspicion. "I try to be careful about that kind of thing. Houston is an incredibly safe place, and I've never had any problems here but one never knows." His gaze jumped to the window and the shadowy form waiting there. "My bodyguards wouldn't be pleased to have my location broadcasted."

  I switched up my posting and made no mention of Yuri. I could only imagine what kinds of loons probably wanted to hurt him. A man with his money and his reputation in business had likely made some real enemies along the way.

  When we stepped out of the car, the two bodyguards who went everywhere with him surrounded us. Yuri motioned for them to give us some space. As we joined the long, winding line for the truck Chuy and Tai owned, I couldn't help but ask, "Doesn't that feel weird?"

  He glanced back at the intimidating bodyguards in their matching dark suits and with half-hidden earpieces twirling down their necks. "You get used to it."

  Sadness gripped me. It couldn't be easy to live in a fishbowl, constantly followed and watched. "I'm sorry you need them."

  He shrugged. "It's the trade-off for the success I've enjoyed. I'll happily accept it for all the other opportunities I'm afforded."

  Yuri reached out and swept some of my hair behind my shoulder. His fingertips brushed my skin, the very touch searing me. The shuddery flutter in my lower belly accompanied an uptick in my heart rate. It stunned me how easily the man affected me.

  When his gaze dropped to my arm, Yuri's eyes narrowed and anger flashed across his face. Carefully, he ran his fingertips along my skin. "Who did this to you?"

  I glanced at the ugly bruises forming there and winced. "It's nothing."

  "Yelena." He used my full name, his Russian accent so thick as he emphasized the syllables. "Please don’t lie to me. Did someone hurt you?"

  "It was just a stupid work thing. Danny grabbed me but I got away from him. It's one of the reasons I quit."

  His square jaw visibly tensed. Rage etched hard lines into his handsome face. "Has he touched you before this?"

  Taken aback by his outrage, I insisted, "Yuri, I handled it. It's no big deal."

  "No big deal?" He practically gawked at me. "A man grabbed and bruised you. It's unforgiveable. It's disgraceful."

  Indignation welled within me. "Yuri, I can take care of myself."

  "I didn't say you couldn't." His gentle fingertips moved over my sore arm. "If you were mine—"

  "I'm not yours," I interjected without thinking. Almost instantly, I hated myself for it. He flinched, his cheek pulling tight for a millisecond, and dropped his hand. "Yuri, I didn't—"

  "No," he said softly. "It's fine. I understand."

  Desperate to make him understand and certain I'd just really stepped in it, I grasped his hand and tugged him out of the line. We were already attracting eavesdroppers and I wanted some privacy. The bodyguards shadowed us but I figured there was no losing those two.

  For a few seconds, I simply held his hand and stared at him. He seemed confused and I couldn't blame him. I was throwing out mixed signals like crazy.

  With a noisy exhale, I confessed, "You scare me, Yuri."

  His eyes widened. Concerned, he stepped toward me. "Have I done something to upset you?"


  "No," I hurriedly assured him. "It's not like that." I searched for the right words. "You're big and sexy and powerful and wealthy and I just—I don't know what you want with me. I'm a big nobody and you're—"

  "You are not a nobody," he interjected roughly.

  I was taken aback by the emotion in his voice. Swallowing hard, I asked again, "What do you want with me? Is this just a game? Are you chasing me because you think I'm playing hard to get?"

  "Are you playing hard to get?"

  I shook my head. "I don't like games, Yuri."

  "Neither do I." He dared to reach out and caress my cheek. "Lena, you tempt me in ways I cannot even describe. You make me want it all."

  My heart thudded in my chest as his fingertips trailed along my skin. I tried to swallow but my mouth had gone dry. "All?"

  Nodding, he cupped my face with one hand. His mouth curved in a sinful smile "But we can start with a kiss."

  As his mouth lowered to mine, I experienced a quicksilver flash of panic. More than anything in the world, I wanted to feel Yuri's lips against mine but I was smart enough to know we were playing with fire. He wanted it all and I wanted—well—I didn't really know what the hell I wanted.

  But I closed my eyes and jumped in with both feet.

  Yuri's lips brushed mine, just briefly, and then disappeared. A little disappointed by the chaste kiss, I gazed up at him in confusion. A teasing smile played upon his mouth. He cupped my nape and lowered his mouth to mine. This time his kiss was more insistent, almost commanding. I whimpered a little and clutched at his arm, my fingers gripping the fabric of his blazer.

  I'd been kissed plenty of times but I'd never been kissed like this. The tips of my toes tingled and my belly did crazy flip-flops as Yuri nibbled my lower lip and flicked his tongue against mine. It wasn't a very long kiss, and it ended much too soon

  Trembling inside, I inhaled a steadying breath and stared into his eyes. I didn't know what to say. I sensed he didn't either. Instead, he dropped his hand to mine and interlaced our fingers. With a little tug, he urged me to get back into line. I noticed a couple of curious stares but most people seemed too interested in their own business to nose into mine.