Ivan 2 (Her Russian Protector #9) - Roxie Rivera Page 0,16

his wife in his arms, her thighs wrapped around his waist, the animalistic side of him entertained violent thoughts of retribution and revenge against that piece of shit who had assaulted her.

Mine. She’s mine. And I’ll kill the next man who dares to touch her.

Carrying her upstairs to their bedroom, he silently vowed that the men who hurt her would regret the day they decided to threaten his family. They had no idea what was coming for them.

Chapter Five

Stepping closer to the full-length mirror in the corner of our walk-in closet, I studied my appearance. The bruises from my ordeal outside the barre studio had faded enough that careful application of color correcting concealer made them disappear under my foundation. I had gone a little heavier with my eyeshadow and liner to draw attention away from the areas I had camouflaged.

Sweeping aside my freshly cut bangs, I reluctantly admitted to myself that Lena and Nisha’s insistence that I needed them was correct. They framed my face and highlighted the shape of my eyes and my cheekbones. I finger combed the waves of luscious brown hair tumbling around my shoulders, some of it mine and some of it extensions, and marveled at how different I looked. Nisha’s prices were exorbitant, but she was worth every single penny.

“Do I have to wear this?”

I stepped into my heels and left the walk-in closet to find Ivan decked out in his tux and standing in front of the mirror, tugging at his bolo tie. I gently swatted his hands away. “Stop. It took forever for me to tie this just right.”

“I look ridiculous,” he groused, eyeing his reflection with distaste.

“You look sexy.” I spread my hands across his broad chest, feeling the starched white fabric of his dress shirt before sliding my hands up and over the crisp black tuxedo jacket. “The dress code is non-negotiable for Denim and Diamonds.”

“I look like an extra in Urban Cowboy!”

Regretting our 80’s movie night, I sassily replied, “Well, smack my butt and call me Sissy because I’m about to climb you like a mechanical bull.”

He made that growling sound that made my insides wobble before slapping my bottom with one of his big hands. I yelped, and he swallowed my cry of protest with one of his punishing kisses, making me ever so grateful I had used a smudge proof color tonight. When he pulled back, he said, “You can climb on me anytime.”

“Later.”

“We can be late.”

“No.” Even though my body was on fire and screaming yes, I declined his tempting offer for a bathroom quickie. “This is our first year going, and I want to make a good impression.”

He frowned. “Why? Who cares what these people think?”

“I care.” I gently adjusted the collar of his shirt. “Our business is growing. The properties you own—"

“We own,” he corrected, reminding me that he insisted everything he owned before we got married was mine once I shared his last name.

“The properties we own are going up in value, and a few of them are along the new I-45 expansion. We’re going to want to diversify like we talked about a few weeks ago. We need connections to people outside of our group of friends. If we want to reach all those goals we discussed, this is part of it. We have to schmooze.”

“You schmooze.” He ran his hand along the curve of my spine and let it rest on my bottom. “That’s not my scene.”

“I know.” It really wasn’t. He hated social events, but he was going tonight because he loved me and knew how important it was to me. I hadn’t been able to hide my excitement when we had received the invitation to the annual fundraising gala hosted every New Year’s Eve by Holly’s sorority alumnus organization. Although it was shallow as hell, I wanted to be part of the “in” crowd.

Ivan brushed his knuckles along my cheek, and I turned my head to kiss his scarred, tattooed fingers. His expression darkened, and he asked, “Do you want me to cover these?”

Hating that he was so self-conscious about the way people judged me for being married to him, I kissed each gnarled finger. “No.”

“Are you sure?” He stared at the bluish-green and black markings. “I don’t mind.”

“I mind.” I lifted up on tiptoes and sought his mouth. “I’m not ashamed of you.” He started to protest, and I kissed him again. “I love you. All of you.”

He cupped my face and nuzzled his nose against mine before