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The Russian's Pregnant Mistress
Author: Elizabeth Lennox

Elizabeth Lennox - The Russian's Pregnant Mistress

The Russian's Pregnant Mistress
Elizabeth Lennox



Chapter 1

Gabriella Smith cringed inwardly as the repetitive, techno-rap music started up again. The loud, thumping, pulse pounding techno sound vibrated around her, pulsing rhythmically with the same throbbing beat as the pain in her head. Her headache was growing stronger as she listened, or tried to listen, to the other women in her group. The music was so loud, she had no idea what half of them were saying but she smiled as if she were thrilled by the environment.

The only reason Gabby was still here was because her best friend, Margaret Baker, was getting married. This was her bridal shower, although why it was being held in a dark dance club with headache inducing, pulsing lights instead of in Gabby’s small home with lots of wine and a pretty, flower covered cake was specifically due to none other than Sylvia Henslow, debutante extraordinaire and obnoxious cousin of the groom. Maggie had found the love of her life about a year ago with Mark Henslow. Unfortunately, as with most marriages, he came with a lot of family.

Sylvia’s idea of bridal shower games was significantly different than Gabby’s preference. Instead of the trivia games about the bride and groom or even the more daring lingerie theme, Sylvia had commanded that they all play a ‘fishing’ game. It was Sylvia’s job to challenge each of the members of the bridal shower entourage to a new sport where the men attending the dance club were the unknowing victims…or targets as Sylvia preferred to call them. The others in the group chose the quarry and the selected bridal shower member had thirty minutes to get the guy to buy her a drink. If she failed in the allotted time, she had to buy everyone else a round of drinks.

For Sylvia and several other members of the bridal shower, this was not an issue except for their pride. Their trust funds had plenty of cash flow to cover several rounds of drinks every night of the week if needed. But Maggie’s other friends, Gabby included, thought that paying fifteen to twenty dollars per drink was a bit exorbitant. With fifteen members of the party, that many drinks would put a serious dent in the members of the group who had to work for a living.

The alcohol was flowing though and everyone else was on their fourth or fifth drink. Gabby was still sipping her first one and had barely finished a quarter of the potent mixture, not liking the feeling of being inebriated and the out of control issues associated with overindulgence. She had no idea what was in the cocktail, but even the small amount she’d ingested in the last hour was starting to impact her thinking capacity.

Gabby loved Maggie, was extremely happy that she’d found Mark and was excited for her friend’s future. But this ‘party’ was a bit too obnoxious for her taste. Gabby also knew that Maggie wasn’t having a good time either. She’d known her best friend since grade school and recognized the irritated facial expressions easily, although Sylvia was oblivious and on her way to becoming completely smashed.

Gabby forced a smile for Debra, one of the other guests who had just returned victorious with her drink held high in the air as if it were some sort of trophy. Gabby considered the whole concept was disgusting and in poor taste, not to mention abusive to the men who thought they were getting a dance companion in exchange for the drink.

She glanced to the side, not wanting to participate in the victory celebration. Looking away, her eyes were riveted by a broad shouldered, dark haired man who was sitting off to the side. He looked dangerous, with a hawk-like nose and dark, sinister eyes. She could tell that he was very tall simply by the way his long legs were positioned in front of him. With the low couches, his legs barely fit between the edge of the sofa and the table in front of him. He didn’t look uncomfortable though. In fact, he looked like he owned the whole dance club. He exuded a confidence that suggested wealth and power. And some un-definable attribute that was eye-catching…alluring. Dangerously enticing.

When he turned his head, she gasped as he caught her glance. Gabby quickly looked way, focusing on the other women who were laughing at Debra’s recounting of her triumph, ridiculing the man who had been suckered out of his money for a drink only to find himself alone as Debra took her prize and walked away, leaving the poor guy standing by the bar wondering why he was suddenly alone and out forty bucks. Maggie smiled up at her, then turned her head as she rolled her eyes in Gabby’s direction. Gabby smothered a laugh and turned away as well so the others wouldn’t be offended by their amusement. But as soon as Maggie politely turned her attention back to Debra, Gabby looked back at the man, wanting just another quick look.

She gasped when she found him staring right back at her! Why hadn’t he turned away? He wasn’t playing the game right. Here in this dance club, men and women looked towards one another, then pulled their gaze away, pretending to not be interested in each other until one of them made the first move. It was a power struggle that was played out over and over again amongst these wealthy patrons but this man was simply staring back at her without worrying that Gabby might think he was weak for showing his interest.

Okay, to be fair, there was really no way anyone could think that this man was weak. His black turtleneck hugged his broad shoulders and bulging biceps, showing off muscles that the other men in the room could only wish they had.

Gabby pulled her eyes away and refocused on the group. They were putting in their drink orders, Sylvia offering to buy the next round and nominating Maggie for the following set of drinks if their subsequent candidate failed. Gabby wasn’t so sure that was fair, seeing as how Maggie was the guest of honor.

Jenny was up next for the man versus drink challenge and all of the ladies were glancing about the bar and dance floor, trying to find Jenny’s male victim.

“Oh my goodness!” Sylvia gasped. All eyes turned towards her, waiting until Sylvia closed her overly glossed mouth and explained her shock. “Don’t look now, but you’re never going to guess who is sitting about thirty feet to our left.”

Gabby’s stomach clenched with fear of what Sylvia was about to say. Was it her man? The guy she’d spotted a moment ago? She couldn’t look, didn’t want to know. And yet her eyes looked up just at that moment.

Debra obviously didn’t follow Sylvia’s command to ‘not look’ since she too gasped when her eyes took in the delectable, tall male sitting on the nearest sofa by himself. “It’s Damon Petrov! Isn’t he the yummiest?” Debra was saying. “I love it when the filthy rich ones are also handsome.”

Gabby’s heart sank when she noticed that it was indeed the man in question. Two other women had somehow found a way to sit next to the man, both were barely covered by the material of their dresses and leaning towards him with a look that shouted, “I’m yours! Take me!” One brazen woman was clad in a metallic looking dress that was so low in the front it was almost indecent and there was absolutely nothing on her back until the material covered her round little bottom. The second woman was wearing a red dress that clung to every curve of her body. She might as well be naked since nothing was left to the imagination.

Gabby looked away, swallowing past the lump in her throat as she watched the two women sit down next to the handsome man, disappointment creating a metallic taste in her mouth. She continued to keep her eyes focused on her drink while the women surrounding her leaned forward eagerly, discussing the man in question. She didn’t want to hear, but their excitement and mercenary interest broke through even the loud, pounding music.

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