Kay is standing by the window, sunlight playing over his thick black hair. Eyes half closed, it gives him the appearance of a big cat basking under the heat of the warming rays. My fingers twitch with the odd urge to run them through the dense strands. As if sensing my presence, he tilts his head to watch me. Kay’s dark eyebrow lifts slightly as he surveys what I’m wearing, but he says nothing.
Moving further in, I take a seat on the sofa. Joining me on the cushions, he fills two glasses. He hands me one of the long flutes, his eyes gleam in mockery. “Laura is playing match maker.”
“Why would she do that?” I ask before sipping the delicious champagne. “That sweet old lady knows I’m your hostage. Alcohol and something nice to wear isn’t going to change that.”
“Nice? Evelyn, you look stunning.” One long arm resting along top of the sofa behind my head, his gaze is narrowed and thoughtful. “Do you know you really do have the most extraordinary eyes. I know I mentioned them before, but they are quite beautiful. Blue and clear like the Mediterranean. When you get angry, they darken to the deepest shades of a Caribbean storm.”
His low voice sends tingles over my skin. I haven’t forgotten the orgasms he’s forced me to have. How he’s kept me chained up and captive. This new setting, and side of him, feels more dangerous.
“Why are those men after you?”
My inquiry doesn’t faze him. “Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answers to, petal.”
“Have you killed others? I mean apart from those two who tried to snatch me of the street last night.”
“Yes,” he replies without hesitation.
My fingers tighten around the smooth, cold exterior of the glass in my grasp. “Are you still going to kill me?”
He smiles but doesn’t reply.
Again, I’m struck by his physical beauty. The watchfulness of his eyes, the harsh forbidding perfection of his strong features. I shouldn’t be attracted to him, but I am. Stockholm Syndrome, I remind myself. Where a captive gets attached to their jailer. I’m conscious of how close he’s sitting. The strength of his muscular frame. How easily he could hurt me if he wanted to. Yet Kay is acting the charming host.
It unnerves me.
“I should check your side…make sure it’s healing properly.” Discarding my drink on the coffee table, he takes a sip of his own.
“Worrying about your kidnapper? I’m flattered.”
“I’m a doctor, and you’re my patient. Even if I don’t like you, I wouldn’t want it to get infected.”
Abandoning his drink next to mine, he dissects my guarded expression with a look. “I bet you’d prefer one of your furry regulars instead of me.”
“You remind me of a lion,” I blurt out.
“I do?” He moves a fraction closer, blackness, glittering perilously in his regard, his mouth lifted in a cold smile. “King of the beasts? An animal?”
Recklessness silences the warning in my head. “Always watching. Guarded…dangerous.”
“Oh, I am, Eve.” His lips hover above mine, his breath caressing my face with the scent of champagne. “I could eat you all up and never leave a trace. That’s what men like me do.”
Mesmerised, all I can do is helplessly stare back. My body betrays me at his closeness. Nipples stiffening beneath my shirt, a languid heat settling low in my groin.
Mouth descending, Kay’s lips glide over mine in the barest of kisses. The action startles me. He’s never kissed me before. It feels intimate. Different than the other things he’s done to me. Pulling away, I search his expression, but he gives nothing away to the emotions he’s feeling.
“Why did you do that?”
“Kiss you?” he murmurs, attention on my parted lips.
“Yes.”
“You have the most tempting mouth, petal. Kissing it was safer than the other more intimate things I would like to do with it.”
“Things?” I asked before my dazed brain can grasp his meaning.
The corners of his eyes crinkle in an amusement. “I want to watch you choke as you deep throat my cock. See them swollen and stretched around a ball gag. Have them cry out my name as I fuck you hard and fast without mercy. Would you like that? I think you secretly enjoy me taking charge.”
Heat stains my cheekbones in a blush at his low, gravelly words. My core clenches needy and wet. The effect he has on me is disturbing and arousing. Dipping forward, his mouth claims mine for a second time before I think to react. It’s quick and impassioned, stealing my breath. A strong hand cups my jaw, keeping me in place, another sliding around my waist to draw me closer. The pressure of his lips on mine is possessive and dominating. Mind spinning, my own part to the silent demand of his. Tongue plunging, he coaxes me persuasively into responding. Shuddering involuntarily, my hands find the hard plains of his muscled chest. His skin is hot and firm to the touch. It’s madness. Even though I’m frightened of him, my body responds. I have no control.
Falling backward onto the pillows, I moan in my throat as he pins me down with his weight. Breaking the kiss, he winces a hiss, releasing through his teeth.
Sanity rushes in. “No.”
My denial is a shaky whisper. I don’t want to acknowledge it hadn’t just been a physical response. My mind had been lost in the swirl of lust and need. For a second, I’d forgotten who and what he was. A killer. My abductor. Instead, I’d felt safe. Desired by a handsome man. Palms flat against his shoulders, I keep some distance between us.
Kay looks down at me, his breath coming quickly, his eyes dark and questioning as if what’s just occurred has surprised him as much as me.
I’m aware of the length of his hard body. The undeniable thick ridge of his cock behind the material of his jeans that’s pressing into my groin.
Looking away, I try to gather my racing thoughts. “Are you going to let me look at your side or not?”
Retreating slowly, Kay retakes his seat on the cushions. I expected more filthy, seductive words, but he remains quiet. There’s an air of wariness about him now.
Rising into a sitting position, I straighten my dress. Laura and Alessandro could have walked in at any time. I’m an idiot for allowing him to kiss me. If it wasn’t for his injury, we’d probably be having sex on the sofa. My cheeks burn with hotness at the thought. I should feel appalled or fear at the thought, not a gathering excitement that has me pressing me thighs together as my pussy throbs with hungry need.
A fingertip lazily traces the line of flushed skin one side. “I’ve never known a woman who blushes as much as you do. I like it.”
Kay’s rough confession has feelings I shouldn’t be experience bubbling up. Shyness, pleasure, the attraction that’s been between us since I first saw him crazy as it sounds.
Clearing my throat, I incline my head to avoid his touch. “Your side.”
Dropping his hand, he lounges into the back of the sofa, spreading his arms along the top. “All yours, Doc.”
He’s returned to a smirking, confident, infuriating male. Leaning over him, I carefully pull one side of the bandage free. The wound is red, the stiches holding.
“I don’t see any signs of infection. It wouldn’t hurt, though, if you took some antibiotics just to be on the safe side.” Resealing the dressing, I make sure it stays in place.
“I’ll have Alessandro pick some up,” he tells me, his focus on my face.
My kiss swollen lips tingle with awareness. The craving for him to do it again is so strong I distract myself by picking up my drink from the table. “How long are you going to keep me here?”
If he notices how my hand is shaking slightly, he doesn’t mention it.
“For as long as I think it’s necessary.” He looks like he’s about to say more, but the sound of ringing interrupts us. Digging his phone out from the pocket of his jeans, his thumb swipes over the screen. “I need to take this call. Why don’t you finish the champagne? It will only go to waste otherwise.”
Getting to his feet, he strides from the room
before I can answer.
Kay
Staring at the computer screen, the words blur in front of my eyes. I should be turning all my resources and concentration on the assassins who’ve been hired to kill me. All I can think about is the intense kiss Evelyn and I shared. Not just a fusing of lips, but something more profound.
I grunt.
Laura is right.
I do like Eve.
More than I should. When she smiles at me, it feels like my heart is dancing around in my chest. I can’t explain the sensation. Don’t understand it. Evelyn is compassionate and brave. Even though I’ve been keeping her hostage, she’s shown concern over my well-being. She holds a genuine beautiful kindness that I know I don’t deserve.
Flirting with women has always been an easy skill. Seducing my pretty petal is something I’m enjoying.
Releasing a long sigh, my mind returns to the details of the woman I was supposed to kill up on the screen before me. She’s my link to whoever paid to have me taken out. I need to know who that is. The phone call I had earlier was a dead end. All the transactions with the offshore accounts had led to nothing. Whoever I’m dealing with, they know what they’re doing. My thoughts reel with the possibilities. There’s a long list of pissed off arseholes from my past. I haven’t made that many friends in my line of work. The target’s address is on the other side of Rome. After staking out the place for a week, I know the entire building like the back of my hand.
“Any news?” Laura asks as she enters the kitchen.
“No. Paulo is taking his sweet time, and I don’t like it.”
“You can’t just leave Eve with nothing to do. I’m sure she’s bored.”
The woman in question is taking a shower. I noted the bottle of champagne had also vanished into the bedroom. My petal is having her own private party. I’m tempted to join her. Would it be so bad to forget I’m a hunted man for a few hours? It wouldn’t take much to talk her into bed after earlier. She might be frightened, but she’s also attracted to me. Enticing her to give in would be half the fun. I’d almost had her in the parlor. Inch by inch, her resistance had been tumbling down.
Finding my packet of smokes, I flip them open. “And what do you expect me to do about that, hmm? She’s my hostage not a house guest.”
“Not in this kitchen, you don’t.” Flicking the cloth in her hand out, she smacks my hand.
Sucking on my teeth at the bite of pain, I spare her a glare. “Why do you have to break my balls every time?”
“Because it’s a disgusting habit. If you need to smoke do it down in the garage but not up here.”
Lowering the computer screen, I move to stand. “Fine. Put this somewhere safe just in case Evelyn gets any ideas to use it while I’m downstairs.”
Turning, I move toward the bedroom. I can hold off until I reach ground level. Laura’s nagging will only give me a headache if I don’t.
The sound of muted singing and the water running greets me as I slink into the room. I recognize the tune but can’t place the name of the song. Something recent that’s been on the radio a lot lately. Gaze on the closed bathroom door, it bounces to the bottle of champagne and a flute glass abandoned next to the bed.
Desire and vengeance battle within me. I’m not safe until I find out why I’m being hunted. Thinking with my dick isn’t going to solve that problem. Thrusting my feet into my trainers, I button up my shirt. Taking my leather jacket off the back of a chair where it’s hanging, I find a baseball hat in a drawer. Slipping silently out into the hall, I leave Evelyn to her moment of peace.
Alessandro is waiting for me, hovering just outside the door. There’s a stern expression on his lined features.
“You’re going to need these.” He hands me the extra clips of bullets for my gun and my ankle sheath containing my knife. After all this time, he still knows me well.
Stashing them in my jacket pocket, I zip it up to conceal my weapon. “Thanks.”
Moving as one we head for the front door. Making sure it’s secured once we’re out, we move to the elevator.
“I’m going to find Evelyn something to read as your wife suggested. Something in English.” I throw him a grin over my shoulder.
Alessandro’s lips twitch in amusement. “So, you’re armed to the teeth just to go pick up a magazine?”
Doors swishing open, we step into the confines of the elevator. Jabbing the ground floor, I pat my pockets looking for my cigarettes. “Right after I follow a lead into who’s trying to kill me.”
“Be careful, Kay.”
“You don’t need to worry about me.”
Bushy eyebrows rising, he give me a strained look. “You tell my wife that when she realizes you’ve sneaked out. For someone so small, she can be terrifying.”
His concern is comforting. Trust sometimes in my job can be fleeting. Knowing he has my back is reassuring especially with Evelyn mixed up in this mess. I know they’ll watch over her.
“I’ll be back late. Make sure Evelyn eats, then lock her in the bedroom and leave the key on the kitchen table for me.” I instruct as we exit out into the underground car park.
“She’s not going to like that.”
I smirk as I imagine her reaction. “I know, but it’s for her own good.”
“Here.” He tosses me some keys. “Use our car, and I’ll get rid of the rental you arrived in.”
Weighing them in my hand, I walk toward the blue Fiat. I miss having my fiery red Lamborghini in New Orleans or my sleek silver Porsche. Built for speed, there’s nothing like handling them with your foot down.
An hour later, maneuvering my way through the crazy Italian traffic and I’m on the other side of the city. Parked across the street from my target’s building, I watch the flow and ebb of passers-by. Blowing smoke into the air, it curls into lazy patterns of white. I’m not even sure this is her real address. With the set up the evening of the hit, this could all be a fabrication. I need to know. It’s a gamble, coming here, but I have to risk it. I haven’t been left with much option.
Exiting the vehicle, I make my way to the rear. The apartment is on the fourth floor. I’ve snooped before when on surveillance and know the layout. Nothing was ever out of place. It appeared lived in and well used. If it is a front, they’ve gone to great lengths to make it realistic for my benefit. Entering through the back, I ditch the elevator to use the stairs. The baseball cap on my head goes some way to obscuring my face along with the pair of dark glasses I’d found in the dashboard of Alessandro’s car. I have no desire to be recognized. Unzipping my jacket, I keep my gun at an easily accessible angle.
The trip up to the fourth floor is uneventful. Nothing sends my senses tingling in warning. Yet from experience, I know even the best deceptions you sometimes never see coming. Finding the apartment, I try to door only to discover it open. Every instinct I have clicks to red alert. An uneasy sense of foreboding spirals, growing stronger.
Drawing my weapon, I sneak in as silent as a ghost, scoping out the living room and kitchen. Both are absent of life. Everything looks untouched and still lived in. I’m surprised it hasn’t been cleared out.
I find the woman I’m searching for in the bedroom on the mattress. Brown eyes wide and empty, her naked body lays battered and broken. Wrists lashed together, her ankles are also bound. It looks like whoever killed her decided to have some fun with her first. Cigarette burns litter her tanned skin. Slashes from a knife mark her upper legs and arms. A deep crimson line encircles her neck where she was strangled.
Awareness sends the hairs on the back of my neck rising. Swivelling quickly, I’m too late to stop the wire looping over my head. Hand jerking up, it cuts bitingly into my fingers, preventing it from closing around my neck. Piano wire from the thinness and texture. Only a professional uses this type of garrotte.
Ramming myself backward, I throw my attacker into the wall. A sharp, pained cry fills the air, accompanied with my grunt. Whoever’s behind me is male from his frame. He’s not as mus
cular as I am. More wiry and sinewy from what I can feel of him pressed up behind me. The metal noose constricts with vicious force, hell bent on strangling me. Gun still gripped in my hand, I’m blocked from twisting and taking aim.
Adrenaline floods my system with the need to survive. Slamming him into the solid surface a second time, his grip slackens. He’s off balance. It’s all I need. Bringing my elbow up, I thrust it behind me into his face. A crack sounds.
“Ye-bat’ you broke my nose.” The voice is accented and whiny.
Lifting the garotte free from my throat, I slam him hard one last time before turning to regard him. Hand holding his nose, blood leaks from between his fingers.
“Who sent you?”
“Zhizn’ ebet meya. Fuck you,” he spits in reply.
“I said, who sent you?” Grabbing him by the collar, I pin him to the wall, the barrel of my weapon jammed between his eyes. Whatever it takes to get answers, I’ll do it. I’m getting tired of these Russian bastards.
His hate filled glare gleams from beneath a lock of scruffy blonde hair. “There was no name. Just a photo of you and details on where you might be.”
This is starting to get tedious. Whoever is behind this is a coward. “What’s the price tag on my head?”
He gives me a look of confusion before answering. “Three million. Another one on top if we kill your Blyat’ as well.”
Rage consumes me quickly. “Call her a whore again, and I’ll gut you.”
“She means something to you, hmmm? The pretty blonde. We’ll have a good time with her, then, before we cut her throat,” the Russian taunts. “Maybe we’ll even make you watch first before we kill you.”
Bringing my knee up fast, I smash it into his groin.
Crying out in agony, he drops to the floor, clutching himself. My anger seethes.
Why would someone be paying to have Evelyn taken out too? It makes no sense. Before yesterday, I didn’t even know her. We have no previous attachment. She’d be viewed as collateral damage. An unwanted witness. Not worth wasting that amount of money on.
His Salvation: Cavalieri Della Morte Page 8
