Her cell phone played a few bars of Sheb Wooley’s “Purple People Eater.” She scowled before she could school her expression, but she made no move to answer.
Andrii’s brows drew together. “Who is that? Clearly, you don’t want to talk to them.”
“That would be my boss, Alan Billows. He knows I have class tomorrow. I told him I couldn’t come in for a meeting tonight, but he doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“I’ll tell him no for you.”
She found herself laughing. “You probably would. I need the job until I finish school and can get another one.”
She wasn’t certain it would be that easy or smart to walk away from Billows, but she wasn’t going to tell Andrii that. She changed the subject instead. “What’s in the box?”
SIX
Andrii debated whether to allow Azelie to get away with the change in subject. It wasn’t in his best interest—or Azelie’s—for Billows to find out they were dating. He didn’t want more attention on Azelie from Billows. The man was a psychopath, and he was deeply involved in human trafficking. If the information Torpedo Ink had worked so hard to acquire was correct, Billows trained women and teens as sex slaves before they were put up for auction. He didn’t like the thought of Azelie anywhere near the man.
Azelie was a gorgeous woman, whether she wanted to think so or not. She wore baggy clothes to hide her curves, but she had them. Any man who looked at her—and they would look—would be able to guess what was under her sweaters and hoodies. Her jeans clung to her body lovingly, and all that was without mentioning her face. She had beautiful skin that glowed and was rose-petal soft. Her eyes were large, vividly blue, and heavily lashed. Then she had all that wild hair.
Billows trafficked women. He would be able to assess Azelie’s worth easily. The fact that she was a pleaser would go a long way to adding to her value. The man needed her for her skills in manipulating his books, but if he felt threatened, he would turn on her in an instant. In some ways, being with Andrii would be a protection for her. Men like Billows recognized immediately when there was a threat. At the same time, Billows might feel he was losing control of Azelie. Bookkeepers could be replaced.
“You aren’t returning the dress and shoes to me, are you?” Azelie asked.
Her finger crept up to her bare ear. She didn’t wear jewelry as a rule. She didn’t even have studs in, although her ears were pierced. Andrii loved the little shells of her ears.
“Yes.” He poured firmness into his voice, all the while keeping his tone low. He moved around her to pull the tie from the box and lift the lid. “I don’t want you to give back any gift I give you, Zelie. It’s a little hurtful, although I appreciate that you don’t want to use me for my money.”
She bit down on her lower lip as she took a step back. “Do you have money?”
“Yes.”
“You said you were a contractor and that you played in a band,” she protested. One hand went defensively to her throat, and she gave a little shake of her head. “And that you did security.”
Andrii could see that the idea he had money really bothered her. She wasn’t after him to see what she could get from him. That felt good. He’d known she wasn’t all about money, but it was good to have it reaffirmed, to know his instincts were working.
“I am a contractor, and I do play in a band. I also work in security,” he crooked his finger at her as he sank back down into the chair he’d occupied. “Come on, baby, there’s nothing in here that’s going to bite you.”
She didn’t move even though he’d used a compelling voice, the exact tone she was so susceptible to. Andrii was a little shocked at the genuine amusement welling up in him. As a rule, he didn’t experience intense emotions. If he had them, they were usually negative rather than positive. He realized, almost from the moment he began studying Azelie’s character to get close to her, he felt things much more deeply. He also found himself genuinely happy, as if by discovering a woman like her existed, there was hope for him after all.
“I don’t want you to buy me gifts, Andrii.” Azelie took another step back.
The room was tiny. The entire studio apartment could fit into the closet in the master bedroom of his house—and his house wasn’t nearly as large as some of the other homes Torpedo Ink members had purchased. All he’d cared about was privacy and room for his piano and other musical instruments.
“If you keep backing up, you’re going to hit the wall. Then I’m going to come to you, and you’ll be scared all over again. What’s the point?”
“You don’t have to come to me.”
Her voice was a little whisper, a thread of sound. Her eyes had gone wide and her face pale. She really needed to stop stroking her throat with trembling fingers or he was going to pick her up and carry her to the bed he’d been all too aware of. Or just take her right there against the wall. He didn’t want to do either of those things.
Azelie deserved a courtship, getting to know him, becoming comfortable with his demands and way of life. She needed to believe that he would take care of her, do whatever it took to make her happy. To do that, to build the trust needed in their relationship, especially when she’d experienced trauma and betrayal at the hands of someone she loved, he had to take his time with her, not just jump into a demanding sexual relationship.
It was clear to him that she was very wary. He wasn’t about to lose her through stupidity by going too fast. Pushing her too hard. He wanted a lasting relationship. He didn’t know how any woman could have a relationship with him, but he was going to do his best to try to make it work.
“I would have to come to you. Haven’t you figured out yet that I can’t resist you?”
“I don’t think you’re seeing the real me, Andrii. I worry about that.”
“You’re rather adorable when you’re stalling. Come over here and we’ll talk about this, but I want to show you the things I chose for you. And no more protests. I enjoy choosing dresses and shoes for you. I know where I’m planning on taking you, and it was fun to envision what you would wear.”
Andrii poured sincerity into his voice. He was telling her the truth. He had enjoyed shopping for her. Planning dates. Thanks to Code and three weeks of shadowing her, he was aware of her schedule. The only person who could throw a monkey wrench into his plans was Alan Billows scheduling unexpected meetings at the times Andrii had chosen to take her out.
“Come on, Solnyshkuh. Come here to me.”
He kept his gaze steady on hers and saw that first moment of capitulation—that sweet surrender to his command, even though she was still wary. Still scared. She thought she wasn’t brave, but it took tremendous courage to choose building a relationship after what she’d suffered.
She’d been knocked down hard and yet she was taking a chance with him. She was leery and trying to talk them both out of it, but even with her reluctance and probably every warning bell she had shrieking at her, she came to him. She chose him. She was getting to his heart, and they hadn’t even started. The idea was terrifying yet exhilarating.
Azelie crossed the short distance and stood in front of him, her large blue eyes fixed on his as if at any moment he might bite her. He had a dark desire to do just that. Put his mark on her any way he could, brand his mark into her bones so she would know she belonged to him and never want to leave. He was shocked at the strength of his want—no, need.
Andrii wasn’t a man to trust feelings, especially ones so intense, yet the longer he spent in her company, or watching her—even the surveillance films of her—the more it felt right and necessary to be with her. He knew it was crucial to gain her complete trust, and it had nothing to do with his assignment. She was his one chance at redemption—at happiness. He knew better than to trust her, but despite his knowledge of women, his mind was already made up.
“Don’t look so leery, baby,” he advised softly. “Come see if you like the clothing I chose for you. If you don’t, I want you to tell me I got it wrong.”
He lifted a pair of blue jeans out of the box. One pair appeared vintage, a faded blue. He knew they would fit her body like a glove and should be very comfortable because he’d made certain they weren’t going to be skintight on her. They would show off her shape without making her uncomfortable. That was important to him. He put the denim aside.
“There are two pairs. One is black.” He placed that pair of jeans on top of the other one and pulled out a soft blouse. The material stopped just short of being transparent. If she wore a black bra, which he’d included, beneath the light crimson, it would be sexy as hell. There was a black sweater to pair with either of the jeans, which went beautifully with the crimson blouse. There was also an equally soft off-the-shoulder sweater in a dark ash blue. It would also go with either pair of jeans. He could tell by her expression that she’d expected sexy cocktail dresses. That would be coming, but not yet.
“What do you think?”
