Her Russian Mobster: The Volkov Brothers Series, #3

By Leslie North

Sometimes love thrives, even in the most dangerous situations…

 

Fashion boutique owner Allison Charman isn't surprised to learn her brother is in deep debt to the Russian mob. What she's not prepared for is the man who comes to collect. Mob enforcer Kaz is massively tall with scarred, tattooed skin, but Allie refuses to be intimidated. She offers her store as payment, but Kaz has already set his sights on her. It doesn't take long for her to be seduced, but when Kaz offers to personally pay off the loan, Allie won't be bought. She may have fallen under the Russian's spell, but she'll take care of her family on her own terms.  

 

Since he was a teenager, Bratva enforcer Kazimir Volkov has been doing the Russian Mafia's dirty work. His size and demeanor have served him well in the most dangerous situations, but with only days left to collect a debt from a runaway borrower, Kaz risks his boss's wrath. When he meets his mark's sister, Kaz is instantly taken by the perfectly polished Allie. Both her courage and her curves entice him to her bed, but she turns cold when he offers to pay what her brother owes. The fiery redhead may have an independent streak, but Kaz will do what it takes to save Allie's shop and keep her out of harm's way.  

 

Allie's life is at stake, and Kaz doesn't want anymore blood on his hands. With danger at every turn, will Kaz and Allie recognize that their connection is more than just skin deep in time to save them?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leslie North
• Release date: Mar 13, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386738633

Book preview

1

Kaz

Kaz Volkov stood outside the non-descript red-brick building on Damen Avenue in Chicago. Blue summer skies shone above and he shielded his eyes from the sun as he stared up at the pink and white sign affixed above the door .

Charmante it proclaimed in elegant script lettering.

Hmm. Not exactly the digs he would’ve expected for a scumbag like Danny Charman, but with a wily weasel like him, anything was possible. Kaz glanced to either side before straightening his black T-shirt and heading inside, ducking slightly to avoid beaning himself in the head with the shiny brass bells hanging from the door. He fought the urge to cover the Bratva tattoos on his arms. Not that he was embarrassed by his heritage or his work, but in places like this sometimes going more incognito was better.

Inside, the long narrow room had more exposed brick walls and gleaming pickled oak floors. Along each side of the space were racks of clothes in all different hues and lengths and styles. Cold air blew down on him from a vent in the ceiling and the air smelled of lemony floor polish and expensive perfume. It was the sort of establishment where even the brass fixtures screamed pricey.

Several of the snooty ladies milling about the place stopped and openly gawked at him, only making Kaz feel more out of place than he already did. Given his height, six-five, and his profession, Bratva Boyevik or warrior, he was used to getting his share of stares. The frequency, however, did not make him like it any better. He shook off his awkwardness and strode confidently forward through the displays of silk pieces and clean, crisp tailored separates that looked sharp enough to cut him if he handled them the wrong way. He preferred classic, well-made clothes with clean lines and no-fuss details. Like the T-shirt and Levi’s he wore today. Things like that never went out of style.

He headed over to a long white counter against the opposite wall and the woman standing behind the cash register, apparently engrossed in whatever was on her laptop screen. She’d not looked up at all since he’d walked in, only said a polite Hello and Let me know if there’s anything I can help you find today in a distracted voice.

Broad shoulders squared, he approached the woman, taking in her slim yet curvy shape and brilliant red hair gleaming beneath the recessed overhead lighting. She appeared younger than him—maybe mid-twenties—and had the most spectacular pale skin, like silken cream. Kaz stood before the desk and cleared his throat to get her attention. She still didn’t acknowledge him, which only made him more determined to get her attention. Summoning his most commanding tone, he said, My name is Kazimir Volkov. I’m looking for Danny Charman.

The woman kept on working on her books, frowning and tapping the tip of her pen against the paper. It was almost like she purposely wanted to avoid him. Maybe she did. He wasn’t exactly the right kind of clientele for her shop. He’s not here.

Annoyed, Kaz stepped closer. Usually he stayed in the background, knowing many people found his size intimidating, unless he planned to use his bulk to get his point across. But this woman was pushing all of his buttons today. Either that or it was just a typical Monday afternoon. Or both. Where is he? It’s imperative I speak with him immediately.

The brusqueness in his voice finally had her meeting his gaze, the piercing olive-green of her stare nearly knocking him back a step. He’d always been partial to green eyes, but man-oh-man. That gaze of hers took her from being merely pretty to being downright gorgeous. Not that he noticed. Nope. Not at all. Her jaw jutted out stubbornly as the toe of her designer pump tapped a staccato rhythm on the hardwood floor. What do you want with him?

It took him a moment to draw his focus away from the way the silky top of her dress hugged her slender curves and the soft plumpness of her pink lips to concentrate on the conversation again. When he did, however, Kaz found her expression showed supreme annoyance.

We have business together, he said, matching her prickliness and upping the ante with a side of aloof arrogance. The rest is none of your concern. He said this was his address.

I see. She closed her laptop at last and leaned forward to rest her arms atop it, giving him a perfect view straight down the V-neck of her black silk top. He could barely see a hint of her black lace bra and the valley between those creamy globes and his body tightened a bit in response. Well, I’m sorry, but it should be apparent to you, this is a place of business. My brother’s not here.

Your brother? Now it was Kaz’s turn to be irritated. Not at her, but at Mikhail Salko, his Bratva boss or Brigadier. He’d sent Kaz on this critical mission without full background information on his target. Which basically was setting him up for failure. Not a good sign. Then again, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. When Kaz’s half-brother Nik had fulfilled his contract with the family and been released from duty, Salko took over as Brigadier to their group. Now Nik was settled down with his fiancée Daphne and was working for some managed care company in the Chicago suburbs. Nik’s younger brother, Ben, also a former Bratva buddy and Kaz’s half-sibling, was married off to Lucy and running his own construction company in Chicago. They’d just had their first child two months prior. Which meant he was now Uncle Kaz to a delightful, delicate, beautiful baby niece. Until his brothers had been released from their Bratva contracts, Kaz had never given much thought to a life outside the Russian mafia. Perhaps someday, he might want a wife and child too.

But right now, someday seemed like an eternity away. He still had another three years on his contract, unless he performed a duty above and beyond the call—like Nik had done in going after the dirty cop who had killed their friend Tolya or like his other half-brother Ben had done by reclaiming the Bratva’s funds from the traitor who’d betrayed them all.

He covered his shock at finding out that Danny had a sister by giving her his best, most intimidating scowl. She straightened and crossed her arms, but otherwise appeared unfazed.

What’s your name? he asked her, his voice gruff from his constricted throat.

Allie Charman. This is my store.

Huh. He glanced around at the racks of garments again. You make these things?

"I don’t make them. I design them. Most of these are my designs, though I do carry a few select other Chicago designers as well. She raised a brow at him. Why? Looking for something for your girlfriend?"

No. I’m here to find Danny. That’s it. Can you tell me where to find him?

Maybe. Why are you looking for him?

As I said, I can’t tell you that.

Then I can’t help you. Sorry. She flipped open her ledgers again and he fisted his hands at his sides, a muscle ticking near his tense jaw. Without sparing him another glance, she added in a voice with just enough edge to it to keep it from being sincere, Have a nice day.

Not used to being ignored, he reached over and closed her book again, lowering his voice to avoid the shoppers nearby hearing. He’d not wanted to deploy the fear card, but she was leaving him little choice. If civility didn’t work with her, perhaps scaring her would get her to reveal her brother’s whereabouts. He owes a friend of mine some money.

She gave a long-suffering sigh and hung her head. Given her brother’s past history of shady schemes and bad business dealings, Kaz suspected he was not the first such visit she’d received on behalf of her wayward brother. Which, now that he thought about it, probably explained her rude behavior toward him. That knowledge almost made him feel sorry for her. Almost. Compassion wasn’t an emotion prized in his profession.

How much does he owe this time? she asked, her gaze lowered and her cheeks pink.

With interest? Two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

What? Allie blinked at him then, her eyes wide with horror. She gave a quick scan of the patrons around her then led him over to a small office in the far corner of the shop. The plain white walls of the shoebox sized room were bare, except for a few abstract sketches of couture fashions surrounded by black metal frames. There was a tidy desk, two chairs, and one lonely house plant. Not much else. Tell me what he’s gotten himself involved in now.

Kaz stared down at her, a good six-inches shorter than him and rested his hip against the desk to lessen their height difference. He didn’t want to intimidate her. He needed her help to complete his mission. If he didn’t get the money back from her brother, Salko would make Kaz pay it back himself and while he made a comfortable living doing the Bratva’s dirty work, he didn’t have that kind of spare cash laying around either. "Danny