Nikolai: A Mafia Prince Romance (Russian Mob Chronicles Book 1) by Shandi Boyes

Author:Shandi Boyes [Boyes, Shandi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

11

“Good?”

Nikolai tears off a chunk of grilled steak from his plate before popping it into his mouth. With my steak knives confiscated by the sheriff’s department, we've resorted to using our hands to shred the succulent meat. Mercifully, it is so tender, we don’t look like scavengers from the stone ages.

Nikolai’s wintry blue eyes twinkle with content when he locks them with mine. The sexual tension bristling between us nonstop the past hour grows exponentially when he answers my question with a wink.

Although Nikolai’s knowledge of kitchen equipment is as basic as they come, we worked side by side preparing the lunch we are in the process of finishing. Well, I worked while Nikolai distracted me at every available opportunity.

Although our conversation never veered far from flirty comments and steamy teases, I did learn exciting facts about Nikolai that hours of research would have never disclosed. It’s a thrilling experience seeing the man behind the paperwork. Not very often can a defense attorney say they truly know their client, but I don’t feel that is true for Nikolai and me anymore. Our time together exposed a side to him I never expected to see. He is commanding and direct with his crew, but the loyalty he shows his family is exponential, to a point it is nearly obsessive.

Just like the veins of law enforcement run blue, the veins of mafia personnel have their own unique coloring as well. Nikolai is so deeply imbedded in his lifestyle, I truly don’t believe he knows an entire world exists outside of it. He was born a mafia prince, and he will die one as well.

"The marinade on the steak? What is it?" Nikolai asks, distracting me from my disturbing thoughts.

If I weren't stuffed to the brim from a generous helping of braised steak, mashed potatoes, and steamed veggies, I'd slap his hand from stealing the leftover food on my plate. But since I'm on the verge of a carbohydrate coma, I push my half-consumed plate to his side of the table.

Nikolai shows his gratitude with a tap of his knee against my thigh. “I’ve only tasted one thing more delicious than this steak.” The lust in his eyes completes his unfinished reply.

When the quickest flash of heat creeps across my cheeks, Nikolai groans. “Fuck, Ahren, I love the way you blush.” Pure heat sizzles over my skin when he adds on, “If there weren’t cameras watching my every move, I’d be spreading you out on this table and eating you for dessert.”

My eyes pop open in surprise as my lips part for air. My shock doesn’t derive from his crude statement. It is from his admission the cameras are watching him. I thought they were installed for me.

Taking advantage of my gaped mouth, Nikolai scoots across the seat, filling the minute portion of air between us. He twists a lock of my fiery red hair around his index finger. His laidback composure is a stark contradiction to the hammering of my heart. He appears carefree and without worry.

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