Midnight Alpha (3 page)

Gaia closed her eyes as she froze in the doorway, drawing a deep breath before turning, her heart pounding loudly in her chest as she met Gregori’s hard and uncompromising gaze.

“Didn’t you forgot something?” he prompted abruptly.

Gaia’s brow furrowed into a frown before clearing again. “I can do without one hairpin,” she dismissed lightly, sincerely hoping the knocking of her knees wasn’t visible to these two men. She was sure that one or both of them would pounce if she were to show the slightest sign of weakness.

“I was referring to this.” The owner of Utopia held up the yellow duster she had dropped on the desktop before going down onto her knees to begin her second search for an imaginary hairpin.

The distance between the two of them immediately seemed to double, made worse by the presence of the ever-watchful Nikolai, the air in the room thick with…something.

Suspicion?

Oh God…

Gregori made no effort to meet her halfway as she returned jerkily across the room to snatch the duster from his long and elegant fingers, her back unnaturally stiff and her palms damp as she hurried back to the open doorway. And freedom.

“And Miss Miller…”

Gaia’s shoulders ached from the tension of the past few minutes and her shaking legs really weren’t going to support her for too much longer either.

She kept her gaze fixed unerringly on the dark-haired Russian when she turned for a second time, but she was totally aware of the blond-haired Nikolai watching her just as intently. “Yes?”

Gregori’s jaw tightened. “Do not come back into this office again unless you are invited to do so.”

Gaia had never been spoken to so coldly or so harshly, and despite the precariousness of her situation, it took every effort of will on her part not to reply in kind. Who the hell did this man think he was?

Gregori Markovic didn’t
think
he was anybody, he
was
the powerful head of the Markovic family, and a man who’s reputation alone was feared by many—including the police, if Gaia’s recent experience was anything to go by. This man only had to issue an instruction and snap those elegant fingers for that instruction to be carried out by one of his minions. No questions asked, no explanation given.

Nikolai Volkov’s much larger hands looked as if they could snap her neck without any effort whatsoever, and the ruthless man she could see lurking in the depths of those pale grey eyes indicated he would probably enjoy doing it too.

She gave an abrupt nod of acknowledgement before once again turning to leave, telling herself to be grateful that she was being allowed to do so.

“Miss Miller.”

Oh God. Oh
God
.

Gaia’s hands were shaking almost uncontrollably now, and her legs felt like bendable rubber, a reaction not lessened in the slightest when she once again looked into those jet-black eyes. It was as if Gregori Markovic could see deep into the heart of her, and know that she was not only lying, but that
she
was a lie, just as her reason for being at Utopia at all was a lie.

He held her transfixed in that cold and unwavering gaze for several long, excruciating seconds before speaking again. “Close the door on your way out,” he instructed softly.

Gaia bolted—she wished she could say otherwise, but there really was no other way to describe the way she almost ran from the room, though she took the time to close the door softly behind her. A disapproving slam might have given her more satisfaction, but it might also have resulted in Nikolai hauling her back inside, and she doubted she would get away a second time.

She didn’t stop running until she reached the end of the carpeted hallway, her boots clattering inelegantly as she ran down the stairs, her breath coming in short, shaky and panicked sobs.

Bastard, bastard,
bastard
.

He had enjoyed that, damn him. Had toyed with her like a cat with a mouse, allowing her to think she had escaped—twice—only to drag her back again.

Bastard
, she swore again as she drew several deep breaths into her starved lungs. Calmer now, she made her way to the staff room where she changed into her uniform to prepare for her evening working in the bar of the casino.

Just knowing Gregori Markovic was in the building too was going to make it a long, long night.

After the past few minutes she would rather have just gone home before burrowing her head beneath the sheets and remaining there. The only thing stopping her was the knowledge that it would make her being in Gregori Markovic’s office look even more suspicious if she just disappeared.

Besides which, her employee file would tell those two men exactly where she lived…

“What the hell was that all about?”

Gregori could feel Nikolai’s narrowed gaze on him as he resumed his seat behind the desk. For once he felt reluctant to share his thoughts with the other man.

The two had been friends for twenty years, and once they were old enough, he and The Wolf had spent many evenings getting drunk together, often sharing women, occasionally confiding in each other.

But for some inexplicable reason, Gregori didn’t feel inclined to do so where Gaia Miller was concerned.

In the same way he hadn’t liked witnessing Nikolai’s physical familiarity with her minutes ago.

He gave an uninterested shrug. “She was in here when I arrived. Cleaning.” His mouth twisted wryly as he recalled Gaia’s comment about ‘cleaning fairies’. No doubt as a reference to the fact that he had never even considered how or when his office was cleaned, it just always was.

“And is that what she was doing when I came in?” Nikolai leaned his hip against the side of the desk. “Has it been so long since you fucked that she had to remove the cobwebs first?”

Only this man could get away with talking to him in this way. And yes, it really had been that long since Gregori last enjoyed a woman. As his right hand and the muscles in that same arm could testify. Even so, he knew that the idea of sharing a woman, or two, with Nikolai later on this evening no longer held the same appeal.

Because of the curvy Gaia Miller?

He straightened in his chair. “Check with Claude regarding the legitimacy of her claim of cleaning.” Gregori had a feeling that the excuse would stand the scrutiny, that it was too outlandish an explanation not to have been the truth.

But with the recent drug problem here in Utopia, he really couldn’t afford to ignore anything that looked even remotely out of the ordinary.

And Gaia Miller was far from ordinary.

“Then bring me Gaia Miller’s employee file. And do a personal check on her too.”

Nikolai’s brows rose. “What do you want to know about her?”

He gave an irritated frown. “Anything that isn’t in her employee file.” Gregori intended on knowing everything he could about Miss Gaia Miller when—if—they ever spoke again.

One thing he knew for certain: the smoothness of her dark red hair and the absence of any other hairpins meant that she had almost certainly been lying as to her reason for being under his desk earlier.

This had to have been the longest night of Gaia’s life. Fraught with tension and the fear that at any moment she was going to be dragged off to a windowless room—discreetly, of course—and interrogated by Nikolai Volkov to within an inch of her life, as he demanded to know exactly what she had been doing under Gregori Markovic’s desk earlier.

It didn’t happened.

No dragging. No windowless room. No interrogation.

Although she was aware of Nikolai’s icy gaze on her every time he walked through the casino—and he walked through
a lot
. She also had a feeling that one of those twenty security monitors in Gregori Markovic’s office had been trained specifically on her for the whole of the night.

Not that she’d given him anything to look at as she moved about the casino, a tray of drinks more often than not balanced on the palm of her hand and a bright smile plastered on her lips.

The cold and dangerous owner of Utopia could make of that what he liked, but the customers had certainly seemed to appreciate her attentiveness, because her tips had been higher tonight than the previous three.

Even so, Gaia couldn’t say she was sorry when the long night was over, the club closed down for the evening and the last customer was finally persuaded to leave.

She gave a sigh of relief as she removed her four-inch-high heels before helping to clear away. She had no idea how any woman could walk around in shoes like that just for the fun of it, but unfortunately they were part of the uniform at Utopia. Along with the thigh-length black skirt and fitted white shirt. And being on the curvy side, the shirt tended to be very fitted on Gaia. But she couldn’t deny the sexy outfit went with the loose tumble of her hair and the heavy makeup also required. A look so totally opposed to the way Gaia usually dressed.

She considered it a small price to pay if she wanted to work at Utopia. Which she did.

Claude le Coeur gave a throaty chuckle as he saw Gaia moving about the empty room clearing tables in her bare feet.

She rolled her eyes. “Please don’t tell me I have to put those instruments of torture back on!”

“They make your legs looks longer and very sexy.” The tall and handsome Frenchman smiled unapologetically.

“Sure do,” Rick Turner, the manager of the casino bar, put in enthusiastically.

Gaia rolled her eyes. “Men!”

“Can’t live with us, can’t live without us,” Rick said happily as he continued on his way to the bar carrying a tray full of used glasses.

“You wish!” Gaia called after him. She may have only worked here for a few days, but she already liked both these men. They were both exceptionally good at their job, but also easygoing and friendly.

The total opposite of Gregori Markovic and Nikolai Volkov…

“High heels look very sexy on a woman,” Claude assured lightly.

“They also mean my toes are going to be crippled by the time I’m seventy!” Gaia came back good-naturedly.

“Ah, but then it will not matter, because you will have caught your man long ago.” He gave a Gallic shrug.

Gaia had to bite her tongue to stop herself from replying to that typically chauvinistic remark. She wasn’t trying to ‘catch’ a man. She wouldn’t say no if she met a man she fell in love with and who loved her in return, but otherwise she was happy with her life exactly as it was, thank you very much.

Or at least, she had been, before Angela died and she lost the only family she had left.

“Have you considered, Claude, that perhaps Miss Miller’s taste runs to ‘catching’ a woman rather than a man?”

Until that moment, Gaia hadn’t even been sure that Gregori Markovic was still in the building.

But having spoken with him earlier, and being totally familiar—spine-tinglingly so—with that hard voice that nonetheless evoked unwanted thoughts of sinful pleasure, she knew she would now recognize it anywhere.

“Tell me, Miss Miller, do you intend to divest yourself of all your clothes right here in the casino or are you happy with just removing your shoes?”

“Gregori.” Claude turned to greet the older man with obvious pleasure. “Did you have a good visit to Venice with your sister?”

“Very good, thank you, Claude.” Gregori answered the Frenchman, but that dark gaze remained fixed enigmatically on Gaia, who had taken advantage of Claude’s distraction—
thank you, Claude
—to slip her shoes back on.

It was probably as well that Claude had been the one to answer the other man, otherwise she might have given the sarcastic Russian a reply he would probably have taken exception to.

But maybe that had been his intention?

It certainly felt as if he was baiting her.

She was also a little surprised to learn this man had a sister. A woman as cold and sarcastic as him, perhaps? He certainly—

“Miss Miller?”

Too late, Gaia realized she should have taken the conversation between the two men as her chance to slip away rather than wondering what Gregori’s sister was like.

He, of course, looked as perfectly groomed as he had when he arrived the previous evening, his suit and shirt unwrinkled, as if he had just stepped out of a men’s fashion magazine rather than spent the past nine hours working—or whatever it was he did up there alone in his office.

She forced a smile to her glossed lips, although she couldn’t quite bring herself to meet that dark and piercing gaze as she stared at his broad shoulders instead. “I’m sure it’s of no real interest to you, Mr. Markovic, but the answer to your first question is that I’m not interested in ‘catching’ anyone, neither a man nor a woman.”

“Which is no answer at all,” he drawled.

“And the answer to your second question,” she continued firmly, “is that I only took off my shoes because they have to be man’s idea of instruments of torture.” Had her answer been too sharp, too challenging for a mere employee?

She hadn’t meant it to be, but this man only had to speak, it seemed, to cause her defensive hackles to rise.

Gregori easily heard the slight edge beneath Gaia Miller’s attempt to keep her tone light, and found himself inwardly amused by it.