Vengeance Aside (Wanted Men 0.5)(10)
She forgave herself for sounding so slutty and was glad—for other reasons—she’d be meeting Lukas before the meeting. She needed to apologize again for any disrespect she might have shown when they’d collided earlier. Sure, it had merely been a bump in the hallway, but maybe he was a sensitive germaphobe and she’d contaminated him or something. Who knew?
Looking each man in the eye—the pale green ones she skipped over, and the silver ones she was denied because the big guy was lost in his phone, though she could see he was aware of his surroundings—Dale kept her pose relaxed and her smile professional. Which was easy because what she said next was nothing but the truth.
“You have my word, Samuel. I will never leave the premises and discuss issues that don’t concern me. And those that do, they’re my business, and I’ve made it a habit to keep that where it belongs.” She tapped her temple and wondered if she was giving them an idea of where to put the slug.
“Thank you. Maksim? Did you get that?”
The big guy, Maksim, tapped his phone. “Recorded and stored,” he murmured in a faint Russian accent identical to Samuel’s. And Lukas’s?
“Good. Dale Vaner, this is Vasily Tarasov, Sergei Pivchenko, and Maksim Kirov. They’ll be with us upstairs later.”
They all shook hands, and as she listened to Samuel’s unnecessary instructions—stay behind the bar and speak only when spoken to—Dale sent up a prayer begging the good Lord to help her make it through the night. But, because she was proficient at shutting people out and minding her own business, she knew she wouldn’t need much help.
***
Lukas stood alone in his brother’s office, his eyes focused on one of many screens mounted on the wall. His heart was beating hard enough to make his tie jump, and his cock was once more as solid as it had been when he’d walked away from the collision he’d caused twenty minutes ago.
He stepped forward and squinted to try to get a better look at the woman who’d just blown his and Samuel’s plan out of the water. Jet-black hair pinned up in a bun big enough to let him know it was long, sun-kissed skin with not a freckle in sight, and lush, dewy lips that made a man yearn to feel them sucking gently on his tongue.
But it wasn’t the lips holding his attention now. It was the eyes. Every time she blinked those brilliant emeralds, something around Lukas’s goddamn heart chimed like a fucking wedding bell.
Fuck the chubby comedian, he thought again, because his focus had shifted and was now locked on this girl who had to be more than ten years his junior. Probably even a few years younger which would put her around twenty-one or two.
Didn’t matter. It had happened, and no throwaway detail was going to change it.
Unable to keep it in, he shared the life-altering moment with the only person other than his father who might understand how his very world was currently realigning.
“You were right, Mama,” he said in the same clear tone he’d have used if his mother was still alive and sitting behind him. “It is paralyzing. Not terrifying, as you described, but frustrating in the sense that I can’t control it.”
He watched Samuel stand. The girl stepped back and tilted her head to listen to what his brother was saying. She responded with something, and Lukas wished he could hear the melodic tone that had feathered into his ears as she’d laughed and apologized for his boorish entrance into the corridor earlier.
The longer he watched, the more he became aware of an unfamiliar pressure building in his chest. It got worse when she smiled and flashed a set of brilliant white teeth. Was that a dimple? He had a burning need to know.
“Move out of her space,” he whispered.
Hearing himself, hearing the threat that had been in his tone, and seeing Farah’s pretty face flash by on another screen as she prepared to open for the night, had Lukas stepping back. What the fuck was he saying? As if Samuel would ever stray from his wife. There weren’t many sure things in life, but his brother’s fidelity was something he’d bet his future children’s lives on.
The children who would be a combination of Lukas and this nameless beauty who’d just done the impossible. She’d captured him with an easy laugh and a sweetly offered apology given when she hadn’t been at fault. She’d looked into his eyes and had forged a connection with his goddamn soul. One he could feel strengthening as he stood there with something primitive demanding her presence at his side.
For the first time, Lukas understood why Samuel had carved out a place for Farah at the club. He hadn’t wanted to spend his working hours away from the love of his life. He understood why his father had always taken so much trouble to ensure his wife traveled with him, even if he was only going away overnight. He understood, too, why his parents had never been further than a few feet apart when they’d been in the same room together.
And Lukas completely understood what his father had meant when he’d said it had taken only one look for him to know Leane Bernard, a French student visiting Russia, was the one. Just a look.
Watching the girl leave his brother, he noted how Vasily nodded a polite goodbye. Sergei was staring at the floor and didn’t seem to notice her departure—imbecile. Maksim watched her legs do their thing until she was no longer visible, then he said something to Samuel that left them both smiling. Lukas wanted to go downstairs and smash their fucking heads together.