Alexandr's Cherished Submissive (51 page)

“Do you not understand? It does not matter. Nothing matters. As long as she is alive, I have chance to win her heart.”

Peter shifted, his tired eyes searching Alex’s. “What are you going to do about your father?”

“I will take care of it.”

Alex’s phone rang, and he let it go to voice mail since it was from his latest mistress, who he would no longer need. He would see that she was paid off most generously and make his plane available to take her anywhere in the world she wished
—a
s long as her destination was away from him. The only women he’d have in his life now were his wife and daughter, and he couldn’t be happier. No more sex without love, no more fucking just to try to feel some kind of connection to another human being, no more being alone.

Tears threatened again, but he would not cry in front of his men. His men had seen him broken when he buried her, but it had been raining that day so his tears had been hidden. No matter what, men did not cry.

The call that came in a few seconds later was from Dimitri. “Alex, Maks said I need to call you right away. What is wrong?”

“Sit down.”

“What?”

An American woman’s voice— Dimitri’s wife, Rya—came from the background. “Is everything okay?”

Alex had to force the words out, words he’d never dreamed of saying. “Jessica and my daughter are alive and living in the States. I’m bringing them back to Moscow with me, and I need you to get some things ready for their arrival.”

“What!” Dimitri roared. “I do not believe it.”

“It is true…our father…”—his voice broke with rage—“took her from me.”

“How?”

“I do not have time to explain. She is almost here. I need Rya to prepare my apartment in your building for Jessica and Tatiana. Tell her to make one of the spare bedrooms for Tatiana.”

“Tatiana,” Dimitri breathed. “Your daughter lived?”

“Yes. I have seen pictures. Hair like her mother’s, but our eyes and her smile. Beautiful.”

His phone beeped, and he saw his Uncle Petrov’s name. “Dimitri, I have to go. It’s Petrov.”

“Of course. Everything will be done. A room is needed for Jessica—”

“No, it will be our room. I will not sleep another night without her at my side.”

“Rya is asking how old Tatiana is.”

“Almost five. Raised in America. I have to go.”

With that, he switched over to Petrov’s call, “Hello?”

His uncle’s voice was vibrating with suppressed emotion as he said, “I hear you are having a visit from a ghost?”

No surprise that Petrov knew what had happened. Alex’s heart galloped in his chest, and he wondered if maybe he would die of a heart attack right before she walked through the door. Bitter irony at its finest. “Yes.”

“Alive?”

“Yes.”

“Both of them?”

Alex had to force the words out, overcome by his feelings to the point where he’d be embarrassed if anyone but the men in this room saw him in such a state. Even now, they turned their backs, giving him what privacy they could in a show of respect. “Yes.”

“God is merciful. What happened?”

“I don’t know the specifics. Call Peter. He can fill you in on the details. My father was involved, that is of a certainty.”

The silence coming through the phone was heavy, just the faint whisper of Petrov breathing. “Is she harmed?”

“I do not think so. The pictures I saw, and some had to be recent, show that she has changed her hair and wears colored contacts to try to blend in. Maybe some minor surgery on her face? Or maybe she is just older. Fuck, five years, Petrov. Five years of
hell
.”

The command in his uncle’s voice came through loud and clear, “Alex, listen to me. Now is a time when you must be strong. Now is a time when you will be a man and care for your family. It will not be easy, trust me—I have to keep three women happy—but it will be worth it. Her emotions will be intense. She may hate you. She may be scared of you. She may run as far away from you as she can. Somehow, she has managed to cut herself out of your life all of these years, and she may have done that by demonizing you in her mind.” He sighed. “Or she may love you and cannot wait to be in your arms again. From all that I have heard from you about her…that kind of love does not die. Even your father could not destroy it.”

Calm settled over Alex, the voice of his trusted mentor soothing him as he listened to Petrov and thought about the older man’s words. He’d been given a second chance, a miracle, and he was not going to screw it up. While he wasn’t a religious man, he realized he owed God some good deeds because of this. He’d offered God everything over and over again for another chance with his Jessica.

He heard the knock on the door to the suite.

And that opportunity, that miracle, had finally happened.

“She’s here. I must go.”

“Good luck.”

It didn’t matter anymore what Petrov had to say, because the door was opening and her voice, her
voice
, filled the air. Real, not imagined, not a fantasy born of his mind almost breaking beneath the weight of their deaths. With his soul starving for just a glimpse, he watched her enter the room, her gaze going first to Krom then the smile dropping from her lips as she paled.

Yes, she looked different now, but still as beautiful. With age, her cheeks had hollowed out, giving her tilted eyes an even more exotic look above her sharp cheekbones that would bring any man to his knees. She wore brown contacts, and her hair was still long, but it was a deep mahogany that flattered her pale skin. Her lips were the same, as was the way she placed her hand over her mouth when she was shocked by something.

Her desperate gaze scanned the room, her body shaking as she saw Peter, then Maks, then Oleg, and finally, she found him.

Stalking toward her, he ignored everything Petrov had said to him as irrational fury mingled with relief filled him. “How nice to see you again, Jessica. Care to tell me where the hell you have been for the last five
years
?”

Immediate regret pierced through him like a sharp knife as her eyes rolled back and she began to collapse into a dead faint. Fuck, he was an asshole. He caught her just before every other male in the room sprinted to her aid, all of them glaring at Alex. Guilt replaced his anger, and he struggled to get hold of himself, entirely overwhelmed by the events of the last hour. Closing his eyes, he cradled her to his chest, her body fuller now, more womanly. Possibly curves given to her by motherhood. She felt divine, and he sank to the floor with her in his arms, leaning against the side of the couch while staring at her, his eyes burning as he refused to blink and miss even one second.

“Alex,” Maks said in a strained voice,

“Get out.”

“But—” Peter began.

“Out. Everyone except Krom.”

Maks and Peter glared at him for a moment, but mainly kept their eyes on Jessica like they were starving for a glimpse of her.

The moment the door closed, Alex said to Krom, “I’m trusting you to assemble a team and go get my daughter. I’ll have Jessica call and let her nanny know arrangements have been made to fly her and Tatiana out on a private jet. Follow my earlier instructions and update Dimitri with every detail. I will be unavailable for a while.”

“It will be done.”

He jerked his head to the door, the fact that his Jessica was in his arms tearing at the barriers between his controlled mask and the tempest raging inside of him. “Call my personal assistant and tell him to help Rya with anything she needs to ready the apartment for us. Let Ivan know as well. Gia can help. I want all my clothes brought from my townhome to the apartment. Contact Luka and tell him to activate a Black Tier for my family. Make sure it includes females and that they speak English. No ex-lovers of mine.”

Krom nodded and turned to leave, then paused and looked back, his still stunned gaze firmly on Jessica. “Alex, she was terrified of us. Absolutely petrified by fear the moment she saw us, and you alarmed her so much she passed out. Be gentle.”

“Fuck you,” he snarled, pissed at everyone telling him to calm down like he was some raving lunatic. Yes, so he had lost his mind for a while after he thought she had died. Great, empty expanses of time were missing from his memory when he drank himself into oblivion night after night in the empty darkness of Siberia. If Dimitri hadn’t come when he did, Alex was sure he would have drunk himself to death, but that was the past. Now his wife and daughter were back, and he would do whatever was necessary to keep them there.

Jessica stirred in his arms, and he leaned down, smelling her hair. Her perfume was different now, more sophisticated, but it still held a strong hint of apples, deluging him in beautiful memories. He shook as he touched the warm, soft skin of her neck, her pulse beating strong and sure beneath his fingertip. She still had the scar beneath her chin she’d gotten falling out of a tree when she was a child. A tear fell down the cheek bearing the scar his father’s torture master had given him, then another, as he held his wife and reverently kissed her delicate face and began to plan his strategy to heal the damage his father had done to them and win her love back.

Dear Beloved Reader,

Please put away the pitchforks and torches. I can’t write the next book if I’ve been beaten by a wet noodle for having a cliffhanger-ish. ;) I’m working hard now on ‘Alexandr’s Reluctant Submissive’ (Submissive’s Wish, #4), the conclusion of Jessica and Alex’s story, with an expected publication date of early Fall 2015. You can check for more information on ARS on either my website,
www.annmayburn.com
or at
www.fatedesires.com
. Thank you once again for giving me the chance to entertain you, and for spending some time with my hot Russian Doms and the women who love them.

Ann

With over forty published books, Ann is Queen of the Castle to her husband and three sons in the mountains of West Virginia. In her past lives she's been an Import Broker, a Communications Specialist, a US Navy Civilian Contractor, a Bartender/Waitress, and an actor at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. She also spent a summer touring with the Grateful Dead-though she will deny to her children that it ever happened.

From a young Ann has had a love affair with books would read everything she could get her hands on. As Ann grew older, and her hormones kicked in, she discovered bodice ripping Fabio-esque romance novels. They were great at first, but she soon grew tired of the endless stories with a big wonderful emotional buildup to really short and crappy sex. Never a big fan of purple prose, throbbing spears of fleshy pleasure and wet honey pots make her giggle, she sought out books that gave the sex scenes in the story just as much detail and plot as everything else-without using cringe worthy euphemisms. This led her to the wonderful world of Erotic Romance, and she's never looked back.

Now Ann spends her days trying to tune out cartoons playing in the background to get into her 'sexy space' and has accepted that her Muse has a severe case of ADD.

Ann loves to talk with her fans, as long as they realize she's weird and that sarcasm doesn't translate well via text. You can find her at:

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http://www.annmayburn.com/

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