Read Online Her Russian Beast: 50 Loving States, New Mexico by Theodora Taylor - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Theodora Taylor
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he’d apply for a divorce, take a new pet, and never think of her again by the sixth.
But now the sixth anniversary had come. And here he was, consuming another bottle of vodka. Still not divorced. Still unable to move on to a new pet. Still unable to so much as get it up for another woman. Only for his hand. When his eyes were closed and he could think about her. Underneath him. Coming for him. Even when he told her not to.
His siren had never been very good at following orders in bed. Had always gotten too worked up, her body taking her over the edge without thought for the punishment that would come later.
But she wasn’t his siren anymore.
He took another swig of vodka and stared into the roaring fire. Willing himself to throw in the diary and be done with it, done with her, once and for all.
“Boris Rustanovich?”
He turned in the chair to look over his shoulder. His secretary, a sturdy matron in a skirt suit, was standing at the door.
“I asked not to be disturbed, Marta.”
“I know, and I am sorry to disturb you, Boris Rustanovich.” Despite his lack of formal language with her, she continued to address him as her superior.
Her eyes cast downward to the floor. “His people are asking for him.”
Bair twisted and saw the former global UFC heavyweight champion, still prone and crumpled on the ground. His anniversary gift to himself and not worth the money it had cost to arrange this private fight. The man had gone down in under ten minutes. Yelling for mercy.
“Have two of my men come and toss him outside near the trash cans. His people can take him from there.”
“I will do that. Also, you have a visitor.”
“A visitor,” he repeated. “At 2 in the morning?”
“Sorry, this is my fault, Borya. I did not calculate the time of my arrival correctly, and arrived in Moscow now as opposed to first thing in the morning. So I came here instead of the office.”
His brother, Alexei, pushed in past Marta, his arms spread with good cheer despite the late hour. Upon seeing the only person in the world who dared to call him by the diminutive form of his Russian name, Bair grunted, remembering the last time they were in this room together.
They’d just come home from the Moscow offices Bair would formally be taking over, once Alexei departed to head up their new offices in New York.
“I think Father would like this. We two working together as brothers to further his empire,” Alexei said, as he poured them both a glass of vodka.
The only acknowledgement their father had ever given of his existence was allowing his mother to put his name on Bair’s birth certificate. For that reason and many others, Bair doubted the father, who’d allowed him to languish in a Siberian village while his mother continued on in her Moscow apartment, would have approved of Alexei’s efforts to bring all of the Rustanov bastards into the family fold.
But as fate would have it, the cell phone in his breast pocket had rung before Bair could respond to his half brother’s supposition. He’d frowned when he saw the name of his siren’s guard flashing on the caller ID. When he’d answered the call, he thought the man would have news about the second bodyguard Bair had decided to hire for Sirena after what had happened with the Moscow National Opera director.
However, her original daytime guard hadn’t been calling about a possible new hire, but to tell him his siren had gone into her doctor’s appointment and never come out. And despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been able to find her.
No, not his siren any longer , Bair reminded himself six years later, as he poured his brother a glass of vodka while the guards came in to remove the UFC fighter. He needed to remember this. Commit that fact to not just his mind, but also his heart.
Which was why it was rather ironic that the first thing Alexei said after sitting down was, “I need your help to find your wife.”
3
“ I do not understand . Why should you
But now the sixth anniversary had come. And here he was, consuming another bottle of vodka. Still not divorced. Still unable to move on to a new pet. Still unable to so much as get it up for another woman. Only for his hand. When his eyes were closed and he could think about her. Underneath him. Coming for him. Even when he told her not to.
His siren had never been very good at following orders in bed. Had always gotten too worked up, her body taking her over the edge without thought for the punishment that would come later.
But she wasn’t his siren anymore.
He took another swig of vodka and stared into the roaring fire. Willing himself to throw in the diary and be done with it, done with her, once and for all.
“Boris Rustanovich?”
He turned in the chair to look over his shoulder. His secretary, a sturdy matron in a skirt suit, was standing at the door.
“I asked not to be disturbed, Marta.”
“I know, and I am sorry to disturb you, Boris Rustanovich.” Despite his lack of formal language with her, she continued to address him as her superior.
Her eyes cast downward to the floor. “His people are asking for him.”
Bair twisted and saw the former global UFC heavyweight champion, still prone and crumpled on the ground. His anniversary gift to himself and not worth the money it had cost to arrange this private fight. The man had gone down in under ten minutes. Yelling for mercy.
“Have two of my men come and toss him outside near the trash cans. His people can take him from there.”
“I will do that. Also, you have a visitor.”
“A visitor,” he repeated. “At 2 in the morning?”
“Sorry, this is my fault, Borya. I did not calculate the time of my arrival correctly, and arrived in Moscow now as opposed to first thing in the morning. So I came here instead of the office.”
His brother, Alexei, pushed in past Marta, his arms spread with good cheer despite the late hour. Upon seeing the only person in the world who dared to call him by the diminutive form of his Russian name, Bair grunted, remembering the last time they were in this room together.
They’d just come home from the Moscow offices Bair would formally be taking over, once Alexei departed to head up their new offices in New York.
“I think Father would like this. We two working together as brothers to further his empire,” Alexei said, as he poured them both a glass of vodka.
The only acknowledgement their father had ever given of his existence was allowing his mother to put his name on Bair’s birth certificate. For that reason and many others, Bair doubted the father, who’d allowed him to languish in a Siberian village while his mother continued on in her Moscow apartment, would have approved of Alexei’s efforts to bring all of the Rustanov bastards into the family fold.
But as fate would have it, the cell phone in his breast pocket had rung before Bair could respond to his half brother’s supposition. He’d frowned when he saw the name of his siren’s guard flashing on the caller ID. When he’d answered the call, he thought the man would have news about the second bodyguard Bair had decided to hire for Sirena after what had happened with the Moscow National Opera director.
However, her original daytime guard hadn’t been calling about a possible new hire, but to tell him his siren had gone into her doctor’s appointment and never come out. And despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been able to find her.
No, not his siren any longer , Bair reminded himself six years later, as he poured his brother a glass of vodka while the guards came in to remove the UFC fighter. He needed to remember this. Commit that fact to not just his mind, but also his heart.
Which was why it was rather ironic that the first thing Alexei said after sitting down was, “I need your help to find your wife.”
3
“ I do not understand . Why should you
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