Page 85 of Between Us

“It's a beauty,” Slava remarked appreciatively, standing by the open door.

A flash of yellow caught Roman's eye as Alessandra shot out of the house barefoot and wearing an indecently short summer dress. Although it was the third week of September already, the weather was still humid and much too hot. His eyes darkened at herwearing so little in front of another man, but seeing the excitement on her face, he refrained from voicing his displeasure.

“Hello.” She acknowledged Slava with a wide grin, wasting no time to open the passenger door and climb inside.

Slava chuckled at her enthusiasm.

The second she was beside him, Alessandra threw her arms around Roman's neck and kissed his cheek noisily. “It's so pretty!”

“It's all yours,” he said. “You want to take it for a ride?”

Her eyes widened as she pulled back to look at him. “Like, right now?”

“Why not? You're done with your driving lessons.”

“Yeah, but I don't have my license yet.”

“You'll do fine.” Before she could protest, Roman got out of the car. “Get behind the wheel.”

Alessandra hesitated for only a second before climbing over the center console to switch seats. Roman bent down to look at her. “I'll be back in a minute.”

Gesturing to Slava that he should follow, he made his way inside the house. After paying the man for a job well done, he thanked then dismissed him. When he joined his wife in the car again, he slid into the passenger seat and closed the door behind him.

Alessandra arched an eyebrow in his direction. “You're going like that?”

He had discarded the towel but was still bare-chested, his tattoos on display. If some people might recognize the meaning behind the ink covering his skin, he couldn't say he cared that much. Not that he planned to get out of the car. “Yeah. Let's go.”

“I should have grabbed shoes,” she muttered, putting the car in drive and checking her mirrors.

Roman looked at her and amusement filled him. “There's no traffic in the driveway, baby.”

She threw him a quick, dirty look, the car moving slowly as she put it in motion. “Shut up.”

They circled the block a couple of times so she could get used to the way it drove. Then Roman suggested they head to the nearest drive-thru, which happened to be a Starbucks. For a Saturday afternoon, the five-car queue was surprising and a bit annoying. Still, Alessandra had decided she wanted a strawberry Frappuccino, so they waited.

“You like it?” Roman asked, running his fingers through her long hair as they idled behind a Toyota SUV.

Alessandra grinned at him happily, her palms gliding over the steering wheel. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

She glanced out the window then a little frown appeared between her eyebrows. “Um, Roman?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have money on you?”

He took out his wallet that he'd grabbed from his office. “How else would I pay?”

She shrugged. “You're handsome. I'm sure they'd find something you could do for that Frappuccino.”

Roman chuckled, his hand grabbing her nape and squeezing lightly. “And I'm pretty sure I'm worth more than a five-dollar drink.”

“Six dollars.”

He squeezed again, and she pushed him away.

While they waited, Roman decided to check up onsome stocks he'd recently invested in. The Russian Bratva was, for the most part, a traditional organization—from the men's mentality down to the way it made money. Roman, however, liked to consider himself a fairly progressive man, and no one ever said he couldn't dip his toes in other methods of making a profit.

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