YURI (Her Russian Protector #3) by Roxie Rivera Page A

needed to have a serious talk, one that required her to be sober.
    "Thank you, Anna."
    "Is there anything else I can do?"
    He started to say no but remembered something Nikolai had said. "When you have a chance, I want a full background dossier on Lena. Concentrate on her parents."
    Surprise colored her face but she nodded nonetheless. "I'll get it done as soon as possible."
    "Thank you."
    "I'm sorry for whatever problems I've caused tonight."
    "You didn't cause them. This was all me."
    He prayed Lena would forgive him and give him a chance to try again. Thankfully, he had a trans-Atlantic flight to figure out a way to make this right.

Chapter Six
     
    It had been the longest flight of his life. Now sitting in the backseat of his car, Yuri rubbed the back of his aching neck. He had a few short minutes until they reached Lena's apartment. He still had no idea what the hell he was going to say.
    On one hand, he was irritated that she had jumped to such a nasty conclusion. Did she really think so little of him? Did she honestly believe he could be so cruel?
    On the other hand, he had seen the glossy photographs posted to his company's social media pages. They didn't look very innocent. Though he considered Tanya a friend, it was clear from the expression on her face that she thought differently. It wasn't difficult to understand how Lena had arrived at her conclusion.
    He could only imagine how hurt she must have been to sit at that damn restaurant waiting for him. He still didn't understand how she had missed the email from Anna but it wouldn't be the first time correspondence had disappeared into the online ether. How she'd ended up with Ty Weston still confused him. He hadn't even realized they were friends. It occurred to him there was a lot he didn't know about Lena Cruz. Hopefully Anna's dossier would fill in those blanks.
    Picking up his phone, he tormented himself again by scrolling through the photos on her timeline. She'd been a very busy girl last night. The photo of a half-naked, tattooed male dancer licking lime and salt off her neck drove him crazy. It had been snapped at a gay bar but the way the man looked at Lena told him he wasn't playing for the home team. The man looked like he wanted to flip up her skirt and fuck her right there on the bar.
    The photos of Lena knocking back shots with a group of friends would have been amusing if he hadn't been so worried about her. He cringed at the idea of how much alcohol she must have imbibed. Only the knowledge that Vivian would never leave Lena in danger soothed his raw nerves. If there had been any question of Lena's health, Vivian would have demanded Nikolai take them to an emergency room.
    But Vivian's text from earlier had assured him that Lena was home and in her own bed. The short, snippy tone of Vivian's message told him he was on her shit-list. Getting off of it wouldn't be easy. She was so damn loyal to her friends. It would take a miracle to convince her not to hate him for hurting Lena.
    The car pulled into the parking lot of the complex. He exhaled slowly before unlatching his safety belt and climbing out of the backseat. Derek stood at the ready and glanced around the quiet complex. "You want me to come in, Boss?"
    Yuri shook his head. "I should probably do this on my own."
    "I don't know. If Lena wings you, Dimitri is going to have my ass." The bodyguard said it with a joking smile but it didn't ease Yuri's anxiety any.
    Yuri clapped Derek on the arm and walked toward the building. Jake followed him down the sidewalk but stayed back from the front door, giving Yuri some privacy. He was suddenly very glad he'd had a non-disclosure agreement inserted in their contracts. Lena was probably going to tear into him when she came to the door.
    Gathering his courage, he knocked three times and stepped back so he could be seen clearly through the peephole. He heard the deadbolt flip and his heart raced. The door opened to reveal a frowning Vivian. For a long time,