“New shipment is coming in tonight,” Olaf stated.
“Another one?” Igor asked. “That makes three this week.”
Olaf stretched out his long legs, the towel around his waist secure. They were grown men conducting a business meeting in a sauna. It was there territorya—territory. They owned the bathhouse.
Olaf’s brown gaze narrowed when he looked at Igor. A flash of disdain blasted through his eyes and then mellowed into disappointment.
“You will be there.”
“Da. Yes.”
He nodded once. “Good. Good. The men need to see you there. As my heir, they need to know you will rule with an iron fist.”
Igor said nothing.
“You should see one of the girls,” Olaf commented. “Maybe that will do something for your attitude.”
Igor’s attitude would change when the meeting ended. “I don’t need a woman.”
“No?”
Igor smiled, showing an excess amount of teeth. “I need several.”
Olaf laughed and slapped his knee. “Maybe you are my son after all.” He looked at Igor to see how he’d taken that statement.
Igor learned long ago not to show emotion.
“I think several women is a good idea.” Olaf stood, adjusted his towel, and sauntered to the door. “Petrovich!” he barked.
“Sir?” The blond man who had been silent during their meeting, shifted on the raised platform behind Igor.
“Make sure my son doesn’t get himself killed tonight.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
Olaf nodded and then left the sauna. The heavy door closed, and the tension dissipated immediately.
“That went well,” Sasha Petrovich stated, moving from behind Igor to sit next to him.
“I suppose. He’s getting relentless.”
“About making sure you’re involved in every aspect of the business, you mean?”
“Among other things,” Igor muttered. “There’s something up his sleeve. He just won’t tell me what it is.”
“What’s going on with you?” Sasha asked.
“What do you mean?”
He sighed. “How long have we known each other?”
“Too long.”
“How long, Igor?”
“Since we were seven.”
“Yes. I’m your best friend, your right-hand man, and your bodyguard. I’m the only one who knows how you truly feel about your father.”
“Not true,” Igor interjected. “My father knows.”
They fell silent and Igor looked at his lap. How did he admit to his oldest friend that he was tired and numb, that the endless parade of women and the life of organized crime were eating away at him? How he still felt haunted by his mother’s hopes and dreams for him. How he warred with himself about touching the viola lest it bring about a surge of emotion and endless pain he couldn’t control.
Control was all Igor had.
“I feel old,” Igor admitted.
“You’re only twenty-nine.”
“Old is old. I want something else. But I don’t know what.”
“Let me buy you a drink.”
“I don’t want a drink,” he growled. The steam of the sauna curled around them. Igor breathed it in, feeling the hot, sweaty air stick to him. “Go.”
“I’m not leaving you. Not in this mental state.”
Igor didn’t smile at Sasha’s good humor. “How does this life not affect you?”
Sasha shrugged. “I made my peace with it. You haven’t. Until you do, you’ll feel pulled in two different directions.”
“Thank you for the diagnosis,” Igor replied dryly.
“My pleasure. Sure you don’t want to get a drink?”
Igor shook his head. “You go. I’m going to sit here for a minute.”
Sasha got up from his seat and looked at the man he called best friend. With one final nod, he left. Igor leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. The door opened and Igor sighed.
“Sasha, I swear, I’m fine.”
A light, feminine chuckle tickled his ears.
Igor’s eyes flew open, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t. The woman’s piercing blue gaze froze him to his seat.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” she said, laughing at him in silent humor.
Igor’s gaze meandered down her body. A lean, slender form was covered in a tasteful one piece. “Not at all disappointed.”
Her easy smile slipped. Nervousness permeated the air, and she shifted her stance, no doubt wanting to bolt. “Listen, I just want to sit in the sauna and relax, okay? I’m not here to get hit on or to make idle chit-chat.”
“You’re welcome to go to another sauna. The spa has four,” Igor replied. He hoped she didn’t leave, but he wasn’t about to beg a woman to stay. No matter how attractive. Her dark blond hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail, the heat and steam of the sauna curling the tendrils at her temples and nape.
She glared. “They’re occupied. One is a loud, drunken bachelorette party. Another is a couple doing…things. Another is a group of men.”
“Sit down. I won’t bother you.”
The young woman paused for just a moment before deciding she could take him at his word. She set her white towel down on the bench, the farthest one away from him, and stretched out her legs.
Leaning back, she closed her eyes and her breath steadied.
Igor had given women apathy a time or two. He couldn’t say he cared to be on the receiving end of it—especially from this woman. There was something about her. Like it took all of her effort to stay still when she’d rather be moving, dancing, experiencing.
“What’s your name?” Igor asked.
Without opening her eyes, she replied, “You said you wouldn’t bother me.”
“I’m just asking your name.”
“And after I give you my name, are you going to want my phone number, too?”
A chuckle escaped his mouth. He couldn’t have been more surprised. It was a rarity for him to be taken so off guard. “Damn, you’re arrogant.”
“And you’re not?” she shot back.
“Why would you think I’m arrogant?” Igor held in a smile. The woman either didn’t know who he was or didn’t care, but she was talking to him.
“Look at you,” she stated.
“Look at me, what?”
“Are you really going to make me say it?”
“You don’t want to talk to me because I’m good-looking?” Igor asked.
Her nostrils flared in annoyance. He found it endearing.
“No, I don’t want to talk to you because I’m here to have a steam and that’s it.”
“But you do find me good-looking,” he pressed, needing—wanting—to prove something. To her or himself, he didn’t know. When she continued to glare, he went on, “Adorable? Handsome? Sinfully sexy? Ah, I see you’re about to smile. Might as well give in.”
The corners of her lips twitched, slowly pulling into a bright grin. It changed everything about her. Turned her from cute to irresistible.
“Is this your usual MO? Bug women into talking to you?” she asked lightly.
“When it works, it works, no?”
“Where are you from?”
“New York—Sheepshead Bay.”
“Ah. Explains the thick accent.”
“Thick accent? I don’t have a thick accent.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t.”
“Hate to break it to you, sport, but yeah, ya do.” She looked at him in confusion. “What’s wrong with having an accent? I’d kill for an accent. I’d love to be exotic.”
“You don’t need an accent for that.”
“So, what, you’re not proud of your roots?”
“I thought you wanted to sit in silence.”
“Oh, I’ve gotten under your skin, hmmm? Tell me why you don’t like your accent, and I’ll tell you my name.”
The air in the room swelled and seemed to grow hotter. No matter how much he may have wanted her, lust wasn’t built for confession.
“Not a fair trade. But if you’re here the same time, same day next week, I might consider telling you.”