Russian Mobster’s Blackmailed Bride by Bella Rose

disapproved. Then she shrugged. “I suppose that’s good for you, but what makes what you do illegal and classifies it as—” She used air quotes. “—mafia?”
    “I don’t like red tape,” he said flatly. “I bribe or intimidate my way around rules and regulations that do not suit me, and I own the police force in Moscow.”
    “Well, that certainly sounds like the mafia,” she muttered.
    “And you?” He quickly switched the focus back to Trisha. “We’ve spoken almost no English, and yet you seem to have no difficulty understanding me. Your command of the Russian language is impressive.”
    “I was a Russian history major. This study abroad program at the Moscow Academy was the last part of my degree.” She sighed, staring out the window and looking almost wistful.
    “What did you intend to do with your degree?” He actually wondered what she could do with it. The thing seemed rather pointless, but he wasn’t going to say that out loud.
    She chuckled. “I think I chose that as my major just to piss off my dad. He wanted me to go into social work.”
    “And you did not like this idea?”
    “Not particularly. It’s depressing.”
    “Ah.” He didn’t understand the entire concept of the job a social worker performed, but that didn’t really matter. “So was your father angry?”
    “He’s never angry.” She turned and offered him a smile. “He’s disappointed . There’s a difference. I’m his only child. I wasted myself and my money on this ridiculous degree, blah, blah, blah. It is all very guilt inducing.”
    “And yet you are here now and there is no need for guilt.” He shrugged. For him, the matter was closed. “We will soon be at my resort and all will be well.”
    “Yes,” she agreed softly. “All will be well.”

Chapter Eleven
    Trisha had never seen a sight more beautiful than the forested mountains of Siberia that surrounded Anatoly’s resort. The place boasted a ski mountain that functioned from early fall to late spring, but now the major attraction appeared to be zip lining. Still, it was obvious that to the very wealthy, this place was all about luxury spa services and relaxation.
    Anatoly did not stay with the general populace in the main part of the sprawling chateau style hotel. Instead, he had a private home nestled into a hillside. The “cabin” might have been made of red logs, but otherwise there was nothing log cabin-like about this place. It boasted towering ceilings, a huge expanse of windows overlooking the valley, and a massive deck covered in purple flowers. The scent of the flora surrounding Anatoly’s cabin filled the air, and Trisha couldn’t resist the urge to curl up on a chaise and simply soak up the sun and fresh air.
    Anatoly set a cocktail down on the tiny table beside her seat. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
    “I can’t believe this place is really yours,” she murmured appreciatively. “It’s beautiful.”
    “In winter the mountain is covered in skiers. Sometimes I shut it down just so I can enjoy a few runs without encountering a dozen or more beginner skiers.”
    “Rich people,” she said with a snort.
    He rolled his eyes and took a seat on the chaise beside hers. “No. Selfish people.”
    She whipped around to stare at him in shock. “Did you just call yourself selfish?”
    He very gently traced her forearm with one finger. “Perhaps.”
    His touch was distracting. It sent a pleasant tingle through her body and made her think of decadent things like having sex on a private deck at a Siberian resort while the sunset turned the sky fiery shades of orange and pink. Except she was not supposed to be thinking about that sort of thing.
    “Do you swim?”
    “Yes, but I didn’t bring a suit.” She felt a bit disappointed about that. She really enjoyed swimming.
    “The place I was thinking to swim isn’t actually a pool.” He was obviously working her around to a certain point, because she could practically see the wheels turning