Knight For A Queen – 3/31/2023

PREVIEW EXCERPT

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Gideon tousled Niko’s hair. “I don’t know yet. I would love to help, but I also don’t want to overstay my wel…”

Jordan’s “Mommy” emerged from the doorway.

“…come.”

Slowly, he rose to his feet. This couldn’t be Anyssa. This could not be the sister whose law practice Pavel had described as a “coven or something like that.” With how lovely Zaraia was, it wasn’t unexpected that she would have a pretty sister, but Holy Mother of Perun—Zaraia’s sister was a work of art.

Warm brown skin. 

Short hair still long enough to grip. 

Freckled moles on her face and neck. 

Lips that looked like they plumped in all sorts of heavenly ways once bitten.

Dark eyes and a slender figure completed the stunning package, though her frame somehow remained curvy enough to give hands his size somewhere to grip while he was "otherwise occupied." Attractive women had been all over Las Vegas, and he’d dipped more than his toes in their shallow pools, deep wells, and bottomless lakes.

Yet, attractive was all they’d been.

And he was looking for so much more.

In the Brotherhood, restraint had been necessary; showing attachment had meant placing a target on a lover’s back, no matter how high or low one’s rank in the organization’s hierarchy. 

Love had been the ultimate weakness, so he’d flirted, f*cked, and then feigned not soothing a broken heart when things didn’t work out. Then, at night, he’d secretly suffered the ache of loneliness.

Zaraia gestured to him. “Nyss, this is Gideon Medvedev. He’s a good friend of Pavel’s, and he’ll be staying with us until he gets settled in the area. Gideon, this is my sister Anyssa.”

A soft, silky-looking top was partially tucked inside dress pants that hugged Anyssa’s frame down to her ankles. Taking in that frame momentarily brought his attention to her bare feet, her toes tipped with pink polish. Having never been much of a foot guy, nothing about them should have been erotic, but he wasn’t exactly thinking of them in his mouth. In his mind’s eye, those nails gleamed on feet whose ankles were locked at the base of his spine.

“Honestly, I’m a little surprised,” he said. The words weren’t meant to be said out loud, but it was too late to take them back. “Volk gave me a different impression of you.”

She ticked her chin toward Pavel. “What, did he tell you I was a witch or something?”

Pavel motioned to the house. “There was only one broom in the house until you got here, Anyssa.”

Zaraia sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, holding in a laugh. Annoyance glimmered in Anyssa’s eyes, but her irritation was thinner than a strip of lace. It was clear that Pavel and Anyssa were like brother and sister, all faux animosity and traded barbs, but they would protect each other fiercely if it came down to it—something neither would likely ever admit.

“And your impression now?” she asked. “Do I scream witch?”

She didn’t scream “witch.”

However, if he had his way, she’d eventually scream, “Gideon.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You don’t.”

Their gazes held.

Never in his life had attraction hit him this hard when all he really had to go on was that she was pretty. Wildly pretty. Plus, he liked her smile, along with the way she slightly tipped her head to the side as it swept across her face. There was also the fact that she had the respect of someone he held in the highest esteem, regardless of Pavel insisting they had a contentious relationship. Virtually no one had ever met someone Pavel truly didn’t like. If they had, they rarely met them more than once.

“It was nice meeting you, Gideon,” she said. Then she motioned to Niko and Jordan. “Cadet Niko? Cadet Jordan? It’s time for dinner.”

She turned to walk inside the house, but her foot briefly caught on the door’s bottom strip. Even as she hissed in obvious pain, she reassured Zaraia that she was okay. They disappeared inside, Anyssa hopping on one foot and Niko and Jordan singing something about someone named “Bruno” as they followed.

No wonder Pavel never described this woman. He would have limped to Georgia, on crutches and with his sutures oozing blood through white gauze, just to ask her out to dinner.

“Hey, Volk?”

Pavel shook his head. “No.”

“I want her, Volk.”

“Come inside, Gideon.” Pavel headed for the door. “And careful not to trip on your jaw.”