Her hair was thick and dark, a glossy pelt shining in the flashlights playing over her. Her eyes were large and for a moment shone back at them almost red, but she blinked several times. Enough that he barked an order to his men.
“Stop shining the light in her face.” He was already taking the heavy tire out from under her hand where she steadied it. “You will get dirty. Already you are soaked from the rain.”
“Thank you for stopping, but really, it isn’t necessary. I have changed tires before.”
Her voice made his gut clench hotly. Hell, even his cock reacted. It was the way she sounded. Husky. Like sin in the night. Whispers between two lovers. He wasn’t a good talker under the best of circumstances. If she needed someone killed, he was her man, but trying to sound suave and sophisticated was far beyond any ability he had.
Balancing the tire upright, he removed his suit jacket with one hand and tossed it to one of his bodyguards. He didn’t even glance up to see who it was. He indicated her car or his. “You should get out of the rain.” He tried not to sound like it was an order, but he’d been giving orders for a very long time, so he was pretty certain by the expression on her face that it had come out that way. She looked more amused than angry. Maybe a little confused. “To stay warm,” he added gruffly, and turned abruptly away from her.
“Boss,” Sevastyan hissed. “Miron can’t drive worth shit, but he can change a fuckin’ tire. Miron, get over here.”
“I can change her tire for her,” Mitya snapped, embarrassed that she might think he couldn’t. He wanted to stare at her for the rest of the night. He wanted his leopard to keep up the strange behavior. He sensed that this woman, in some way, calmed the dangerous predator in him, and having that respite, if only for a few moments, after a lifetime of sheer hell, was a miracle.
The woman’s gaze jumped to Miron and a small smile briefly curved her mouth, drawing his attention to it. She had the kind of mouth he’d fantasized over. Leopards were oral creatures, and he instantly became fixated on that perfect bow. He wanted her lips stretched around his cock, those enormous eyes looking right into his. The predator in his leopard might have turned playful, but that trait in him leapt to the forefront. He wanted to taste her. Bury himself in her. Claim her. Every possessive, jealous trait he hadn’t known he had leapt to the forefront.
“I’ve got it, boss,” Miron said and removed the tire from under his hand.
Mitya gestured toward his town car. She hesitated, looking at the force of men surrounding them. Sevastyan, thankfully, had put his gun away. Vikenti and his brother Zinoviy hovered close, but both had also concealed their weapons. The brothers were large and looked exactly like what they were, as did Miron. Sevastyan appeared more civilized than all of them. None seemed as intimidating as Mitya. He looked to be a dangerous man. He carried himself that way without thinking about it. When one had been shaped into a weapon from birth, it didn’t go away until one died.
“I’m Mitya Amurov,” he said.
Again she hesitated, as if perhaps she’d heard of him. If that were so, he wouldn’t have been surprised. It was no secret he’d been shot. The news articles had a field day speculating whether or not he was part of a much larger crime family—and they would have been correct. Or at least, correct as they knew it.
Mitya held the door while Vikenti stupidly held the umbrella over him instead of the woman. He snapped at the man in Russian. “Her, Vikenti, be a gentleman.”
Vikenti immediately shoved the umbrella over her head, and she sent Mitya a smile that tightened his belly and put steel in his cock. She was beautiful. Truly beautiful. Up close he could see her skin. It looked so soft he longed to touch it. Her lashes were long and thick, and in the lights spilling from both cars’ headlights, even in the rain, her eyes looked more violet than blue. She stepped past Mitya and slid gracefully onto the heated leather seats.
Mitya was certain he detected a little sigh of pleasure when the warmth in the car enveloped her. Before he slipped in with her, he glared at his bodyguards, warning them off. Again, Sevastyan didn’t like it, but he nodded curtly. There was going to be another lecture, and Mitya knew he deserved it, but it didn’t matter. He needed this. His leopard needed it. It wasn’t like this was going to happen ever again, so he was taking it while he could, and consequences be damned. He took his jacket back, slid in beside her and slammed the door closed.