Ivan's Captive Submissive (Submissive's Wish) (32 page)

Looking at it from a logical point, he could hardly blame her. They’d known each other for a handful of days. Asking her to give up her life and her family, and move to a totally unfamiliar country thousands of miles away because he loved her only worked in fairy tales. He would have to compromise with her and figure out what kind of offer she wouldn’t be able to refuse. While it would have been nice to just be able to buy her some expensive jewelry to get her to stay, he knew that wouldn’t work with Gia. 

One of the things he loved about Gia was her appreciation of the luxuries of life. She wasn’t someone who believed they were entitled to things. And she definitely wasn’t the kind of woman who would enjoy being a housewife. She needed something to sink her teeth into, a job where she would have a chance to work and grow as an artist. And she was an artist, one of the most talented he’d ever seen. Her work had a beautiful flow and symmetry to it with a distinct style that was all her own. Some people might look at her blue prints and find them boring, but he looked at the homes she’d changed and had been in awe of her skills.

A plan began to form, a compromise that would change his world forever, but in a good way. The idea was by no means rational, but he hadn’t been acting rationally since the moment he saw her on the stage at the auction, trembling with fear, and everything inside of him roared out to possess her, because she was his. When he’d claimed her after the auction and she looked up at him with those big, dark eyes, he had the insane thought that this was her, the woman he’d been waiting for. The time they’d spent together since then only reinforced that notion, and after the way she looked at him tonight, he knew his affection wasn’t one-sided.

It was time for him to begin a new phase of his life. He’d done his empire building and had amassed a large enough fortune that neither he, nor his future children and grandchildren would ever have to worry about having a place to live and food to eat. He would protect her, love her, and cherish her. For a brief moment he tried to imagine what his and Gia’s child would look like and his heart gave a heavy thud. 

They would make beautiful babies.

Gia was soon in a deep sleep on his chest. He motioned to one of the submissives who worked at the club to bring him his bag. The employees had already cleaned the stations and put the equipment back in place. A middle-aged male sub with short blond hair placed Ivan’s bag next to him on the couch and left.

Taking care not to move Gia too much, he pulled his cell phone from his bag then began to text his Uncle Petrov. If Petrov couldn’t assist Ivan in convincing Gia stay with him, no one could. What Ivan had in mind wasn’t easy. He would need his family connections to smooth the way for Gia. There were a number of people in Russia who wouldn’t work with Americans, and he didn’t want their ignorance to touch his woman. She couldn’t know he was behind her job because he knew she wouldn’t accept anything handed to her. Gia had to work hard to get where she was and she deserved a chance to really show the world what she could do.

That would never happen for her at the small firm where she currently worked. Ivan had looked into it and the top earners of the firm were all related. Gia’s chance of advancing within that company was next to nothing no matter how hard she worked. The thought of her getting screwed over like that made him angry for her and even more determined to convince her that her place in the world was at his side.

Chapter Eighteen

Gia looked around Ivan’s unfamiliar kitchen and realized she had no idea what half the products were. She’d normally use her cell phone to take a picture and do an Internet search, but the battery was dead and she didn’t have a European charger. Ivan had a computer in his study, but it was set up in Cyrillic and she had no clue how to do anything on it. He was having a new laptop delivered to her tomorrow so she could video chat with her friends and family back in the States. Her cousins had been thrilled that she was in Russia and bought her excuse of being here for business. She’d felt bad lying to them about it, but the last thing she needed when she came home was being interrogated by her well-meaning, but nosy relatives, not to mention her girlfriends who would probably smack her on the back of her head for leaving Ivan.

Her heart constricted and nausea gripped her at the thought of never seeing him again. Placing a hand to her stomach, she tried to close her emotions off, something she’d been able to do effectively in the past, but for some reason right now, all she could do was try and hold herself together enough to keep from crying. A need to connect with Ivan swept through her and she placed her hand on the wall next to the gas range. This was his home, she was here right now, so she was going to make the absolute best of it. 

Turning to her right, she looked out the floor to ceiling tinted windows that revealed a breathtaking view of Moscow. To her delight, Ivan also had a large patio outside of the kitchen that was tastefully decorated with comfortable lawn furniture that encouraged one to sit and relax. There were also a great variety of potted plants that lent a softness to the clean, ultra-modern lines of his kitchen. 

When she’d arrived at Ivan’s apartment a few days ago, she had been so stunned by the size of the place she didn’t really hear half of what Ivan had said. She picked the apartment near the American embassy because Ivan said there were lots of ex-pats in the neighborhood. He also said it had a good deal of culture and she would get to see a different side of Russia.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d promised her man a home cooked meal. 

Turning back to the cupboard, she mused that she was seeing a different side of Russia all right, the one where she had no idea what the hell the boxes in the pantry held. Her first thought had been to do a good spaghetti dinner. It was a stick-to-the-ribs food that every man she’d made it for appreciated. While it wasn’t one of the gourmet meals he constantly delighted her with, it was home cooking, and her aunts had taught her well. Ivan had given his personal chef the night off at her request and she didn’t want to let him down. Some primitive female part of her psyche got a great satisfaction from the idea of feeding and caring for Ivan.

Now she was trying to figure out which can had SpagettiO’s in it.

“Pardon me, do you happen to know where my nephew might be?” It was the voice of an older man who spoke in lightly accented English.

Gia jumped back with a small scream looking for the phone, then remembered the emergency button beneath the edge of the countertop that would summon security. The man staring back at her with one eyebrow raised didn’t appear threatening, but he had a dangerous vibe that she couldn’t ignore. His gaze was just…cold. But he’d called Ivan his nephew.

“He’s at work.” Internally wincing at her blunder, she said, “I mean, he’s upstairs. He’ll be down any second. Why don’t I go get him?”

She tried to slow her breathing as he walked closer and slowly closed the cupboard. 

Leaning on the black marble counter, Ivan’s supposed uncle studied her. He still cut a trim figure in his heavy grey sweater and had only a touch of silver in his dark hair. Overall, he had the same powerful, almost deadly vibe as Ivan and she swallowed hard. For all she knew, he could be one of those kidnappers.

She darted a glance to the security button beneath the table. “I’m sure he’ll be down any second.”

The man almost smiled, and he did have the same expressive eyes Ivan did, but in a colder shade of blue. She studied Petrov’s features and could see the physical similarities that clearly marked him as being related to Ivan. Her tension dissipated and she gave him a hesitant smile.

 He tilted his head and watched her intently. “Gia, my name is Petrov. Ivan called me last night to let me know he was back home and I wanted to stop by to visit with him. I mean you no harm. If you like I can call him and you can speak to him so you can verify who I am. Or you can call security and ask one of them to come up and stay with us while I’m here.”

“No, no that’s okay. You just startled me. I didn’t expect anyone to be here and you must walk like a cat because I didn’t hear you at all. Ivan’s at work right now, but he said he would be home in time for dinner.”

Flushing, she pulled at the edges of the ultra-comfy top of her pink cashmere lounge clothes. The shirt was a cute, tight racer back tank top. She hadn’t worn a bra expecting only Ivan later tonight. Now she was standing in front of his uncle and her nipples were hard from the adrenaline rushing through her system and the bumps of her piercings were clearly visible.

Trying to casually cross her arms to hide her breasts, she cleared her throat. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“And you.” His look was more curious than aggressive now. “So, Ivan tells me you’re an architect? That you restore old buildings?”

Pleased that Ivan had mentioned her profession, she nodded. “Yes. Though I mostly gut the interiors, renovate all the electricity, plumbing, take out asbestos, clean out any bats from the attic, replace old toilets, take care of any mold or water issues, and I usually put in central air and heating. Oh, and last month I installed my first solar grid. Then I put the house back together again better than before so you can hardly tell it was even touched.”

He gave her a surprised look with a slight raising of the eyebrows. “It sounds like you’re a busy woman.”

She laughed nervously, “Usually I am. But I’m afraid your nephew is trying to spoil me with a life of leisure on my week’s vacation here.”

His gaze sharpened and the lines around his mouth deepened. “Only a week?”

She tilted her head and looked closer at him. Something about the way he said that, the genuine surprise in his voice, made her inner alarms go off. “Yes. Just a week. Why?”

He gave her a charming smile much like Ivan’s when he was going to try to sweet talk her, or manipulate her, or both. “I am trying to imagine all the wonders of Moscow and seeing them in a week. Is my nephew boring?”

To her surprise, he actually sounded offended. Like she’d insulted him somehow. “Oh, no. It’s not that. Ivan is wonderful. It’s just that I don’t have any more vacation time at work. I need to get back and start on a bunch of projects.”

“Understood.” 

She glanced at the cupboard. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you translate some of the food packages for me? I’d like to make Ivan dinner, but I don’t know how to read Cyrillic.”

“You’re making him dinner?”

His surprise confused her. “Yes. Is that okay?”

He nodded and gestured towards the stove. “Come, I want to teach you how to make a dish Ivan’s mother made for him. She was my sister and in addition to being a wonderful cook, she was also an English professor at the Moscow State University Language Center. A brilliant woman. She spoke nine languages fluently and could read ancient Greek.”

“Nine languages?” He nodded and she blinked in surprise. “Ivan mentioned something about her teaching him English, but I had no idea.”

Petrov shrugged. “He does not like to boast.”

Thinking back to how amazed she’d been to realize just how powerful of a man he was in the world, she nodded. “He doesn’t need to boast.”

“What do you mean?”

She flushed. “Just that you can look at Ivan and know that he is a man in control of his destiny.”

“Very well put.” His lips turned up just the slightest bit. “Now, would you like me to teach you this dish?”

“I would really like that. I can figure out what some of the boxes and cans are by their labels, but others are a complete mystery.”

He removed his sweater and rolled up the sleeves of his button down cream-colored dress shirt. “That is a nice outfit. I would not want it to get ruined by the cooking. Why don’t you put something else on?”

While he said it with a straight face, she saw a twinkle in his eye that made her cheeks heat. “Okay.”

After she returned to the kitchen in jeans and a comfy peach sweater, she found that Petrov had poured them both a glass of chilled vodka. He taught her how to sip it as he had her measure and chop up ingredients. They were making
zharkoe
, which looked to her like a traditional stew. They browned the potatoes, carrots, and onion in a little butter. Next came the slices of pork, which was browned a bit as well. All of this went into a crock and into the oven. Gia’s stomach was growling for food.

While they cooked Petrov told her about Ivan’s family and she found out that Ivan had over two hundred cousins living in Moscow. From what Petrov said the family reunions were mad houses with people getting drunk, singing, and weeping over the old days. It was nice to know that, despite Ivan’s perfection, his family was as crazy as her own extended family back in the States. A soft pang of homesickness went through her, but she wasn’t looking forward to going home. At all. The thought of leaving Ivan was unbearable, so she tried to ignore it and pretend she had all the time in the world with her handsome, dashing Master.

She was also feeling a little tipsy, not the point of slurring words or anything, and she really enjoyed talking to Petrov. He had a brilliant mind and his insight to the world was different than any she’d ever known. It wasn’t that he was a pessimist about things, but he was an unflinching realist. He didn’t try to gild anything, but at the same time, his pride in his country was obvious. 

As the time drew closer for Ivan to come home, she checked her reflection in the living room mirror to make sure she looked all right.

Petrov caught her finger combing her hair. “Go, go fix yourself up for your man. I will take care of things down here.” He paused and took in her jeans and sweater. “I’m not sure how things work for young women in your country, but I do have three daughters, and I would like to give you the advice that I gave them. When your husband or boyfriend comes home from a hard day at work, seeing his woman looking beautiful makes all the stress and worry worth it. And, when family is visiting, it always does a man’s heart proud when his wife looks her best. It shows that he can take care of you, that he is a good provider, a responsible man. It is our job as men.”