Irritably lifting his dark head, her husband fixed her with a steely glare. "You're distracting me, darling."
Smoothing her hands over his sculpted shoulders, the blonde simply continued giggling. "You know during the Prohibition in the early 1900s in America, the gangsters would hide their guns in violin cases and carve an opening at the top of the case." Smiling devilishly at his speculative expression, Lauren ventured, "Imagine what we could conceal in my cello case, like a surface to air rocket launcher, or someth-"
Growling, his lean body arched over hers and stopped her with a kiss. "You will never be in that position again, little girl. I shall make quite sure of it." Thomas tried to bend in and kiss her again, but with a rather loud grunt of effort Lauren managed to flip them, hovering over him with a dark smile.
"You can't make sure of it, Thomas. But you can teach me more about defending myself." Giving a deliberate, long roll of her hips, she enjoyed the involuntary groan from her husband's perfect lips. "You don't want some pathetic little wimp for a wife. You like that I could maybe kick some ass."
Tightening his thighs against her, he flipped them again, biting down on the throbbing artery in her neck as he growled, "Maybe, my arse. My sweet." He kissed her soundly, "Little. Demure. Wife." She was breathless when he finished the assault on her lips, and he growled a little, the sound rippling through the thin skin of her throat and making the girl let out an embarrassing whimper. "You took out a contract killer with a vicious swing from an improvised weapon. I find you to be a bit... terrifying." Thomas found he loved the way she felt when his surprising bride laughed, breasts jolting and teasing along his chest, legs tightening and loosening, the look in her eyes when Lauren gazed up at him without fear, for a change.
"Terrifying? That is a word," she giggled, "that has never been used to describe me. But it's kind of flattering, to be honest."
Her husband was smiling down at her, a strangely tender expression that surprised her for its rare appearance in her life. “I am going to order in from that Thai restaurant you like. Why don’t you go find a film you like?”
Brightening, Lauren asked, “Can we eat in bed?” This was a forbidden activity, so she enjoyed the pained smile on Thomas’ face even more.
“Of course, darling.”
Chapter 15 - The Team Building Exercise
In which Lauren is forced to participate in Bratva's bizarre form of "hospitality."
Lauren woke to the sound of Thomas's cell phone on the bedside table. Sighing, he picked it up, rubbing his eyes.
"Yes?" She couldn't hear what was being said on the other end of the line, but she could feel the big body next to hers grow still. "Very well. We'll be there.”
"What's up?" Lauren tried to sound like her brain was fully functioning, but when she looked at Thomas as he rose from the bed, her heart sank. His face was set and composed; his voice indifferent.
"Be ready at 8 pm," he answered, "wear one of your more sophisticated black dresses. We have a dinner meeting with the head of Bratva. He's in town," he added ominously, "this is a surprise."
Clutching the sheet to her chest, Lauren could feel her breath hitch. "Oh,shit," she mumbled.
"Stop staring at me. That side-eye is going to give you a headache."
Thomas's eyes hadn't diverted from the road, Lauren thought resentfully, but of course, he caught her effort to watch him while trying to be inconspicuous about it. She wanted to ask just how bad this was going to be. This dinner had surprised Thomas, and she knew without asking that her scary husband did not like to be surprised.
"Sorry."
They stopped for a red light, and he looked over. His bride looked beautiful- sleek, shiny updo and a pair of pretty diamond studs in her ears. Simple, elegant. The cold Number Two of Jaguar Holdings knew the girl felt awkward many times- well, most of the time when it came to her confusing and often terrifying new life. But he'd been taken with how gracefully she'd handled so many sticky situations. Internally groaning as he thought again of Lauren knocking the seven bells out of that Texas thug with her cello case, Thomas irritably willed his swelling cock to stand down. Taking pity on her, he took her warm hand and squeezed it gently. "I know you're too clever to think this is a relaxed social occasion," Thomas said calmly. "Semion Mogilevich is an important business partner."
Lauren looked down at their loosely clasped hands. Semion Mogilevich was, in fact, the head of the murderous Bratva empire. She was quite capable of using a search engine. She knew exactly the kind of monsters The Corporation was in bed with. Which made her wonder just how monstroustheywere as well. What was her husband capable of, this man who tied her up and taunted her into multiple orgasms, who held her hand and curled behind her and soothed her when she was shaken by just how far he'd brought her into this dark and alluring world of his? He was capable of kindness, her husband, even if he had forced her into a life she never would have chosen for herself. Her mouth twisted unattractively. Of course, it could be said that Frank forced her into this life by leaving them wide open to his coercion. If her father had been a valuable member of the Jaguar Holdings empire, Thomas could not have demanded her hand in marriage. Rubbing her forehead, Lauren vowed to stop thinking about it. These thoughts would swirl round and round in her brain until she stilled them with enough glasses of wine and hopefully, sleep. She had the luxury of neither tonight since she needed to be at her most alert.
"His arrival seems to be a surprise to you," Lauren ventured, "I'm guessing a surprise visit from the Bratva is not a good thing."
Thomas looked at her sharply then, those frost blue eyes keener than she liked. "You would be correct," he allowed, "which is why we listen and watch. And in your case, say nothing." Rolling his eyes as Lauren's narrowed, he impatiently added, "Not because you are not an excellent conversationalist with an astonishing ability to draw out stories from the most tight-lipped men I know. Because you are, of course. But because I want no attention drawn to you. This is a man to whom I want you to be invisible."
"Kind of like Moses painting lamb's blood on the doors in Egypt to make Death pass them by?" Lauren meant it in a somewhat sarcastic aside, but the image suddenly chilled her.
"Something like that," he agreed grimly. "Listen and watch. Be my clever girl."
Lauren was humiliated to feel herself shiver a little at his words, how his tone dipped as he called her his "clever girl." God. She was such a pushover for the Voice.
"??????? ????????? ? ???????. ??????? ???????."Thomas chuckled politely along with the few others at the table who spoke Russian, an assistant leaning over to Number One and subtly translating the conversation. Mogilevich continued, hands waving expansively, spilling a bit of his excellent vodka."??????? ?? ????? ??? ????? ?????? ?????!"
Lauren's fingers curled into claws in her linen napkin looking down at her plate and counting her breaths. She'd always loved to learn, her mother fondly called her "my clever bookworm" since she was old enough to sneak a flashlight and a book into bed. But at this moment Lauren deeply regretted ever learning Russian. Deeply. She didn't want to hear these things. Even the French "butcher," or the Bratva captain with three kids and a penchant for melting his victims into sludge with acid, they couldn't possibly be as horrible as this man, every word he spoke was violating any sense of decency left within her. Looking over at a puzzled but pleasantly smiling Clara, Lauren gave a little shrug with one shoulder, indicating confusion but with a "Let the men tell their stories," gesture. When Number Three's fiancée nodded back, Lauren could see her jaw was trembling, like Clara was gritting her teeth. With a rising sense of concern, she realized the sweet girl was smarter than she'd thought.
As dessert was served and tiny cups of coffee consumed, Lauren allowed herself to relax. Just a little. That meant this hellish dinner party was nearly at an end, right? To her horror, the Russian stood up and spread out his arms grandly."? ?????? ??? ? ????? ?????? ??????? ?????, ? ???????. ?????, ??? ??? ????? ??????????."Lavender eyes darting to her husband's pleadingly, Lauren was quite sure she would not enjoy this "new business." Not at all. Unfortunately, Thomas looked at her expressionlessly and simply nodded his head.
"Wherearewe going?" Unfortunately, Mr. and the soon to be Mrs. Fassell had joined them in their car, and what Lauren was really dying to ask was severely curtailed. She watched as Thomas's sculpted jaw clenched, not a good sign.
