by Juniper Hart
“What?” she demanded coldly.
“What do you think?” Leonid snapped for his boss. “We’re getting off.”
“No. I will stay here,” she told Leonid, but Petro smiled coldly.
“No, my love. This is a seven-hour layover. Anyway, you have always loved Paris. We haven’t been here since our honeymoon. You will come.”
Kendra eyed in him disbelief. Does he really believe that I ever loved him? After everything he put me through? I’ve been kidnapped, stolen, and used by this man. Is he really that delusional? She bit back all the anger threatening to bubble from her lips and forced another smile.
“Petro, we only have a few hours here. It’s hardly enough time—”
“I said, get up.” His tone was like icy steel, and Kendra inhaled sharply. There was no room for argument.
She glanced at Leonid, who stood in the aisle, a caustic smirk upon his face, and she had a terrible sense of danger.
He is going to try to kill me here. He’s not even going to wait until we get home, she concluded, slowly rising to her feet.
Petro firmly took hold of her arm, and the three walked off the plane. Kendra looked about desperately.
“I have to use the washroom, Petro,” she told him as they walked through the bustling terminal. His blue eyes narrowed dangerously, and he exchanged a glance with Leonid. A mirthless smile touched his lips.
“That didn’t occur to you on the plane?” he asked in a joking manner which did not reach his eyes. “We were in the air for six hours.”
“I was sleeping!” she protested weakly. “You’re not going to give me a hard time about that now, are you?”
He seemed to accept the excuse with a shrug. “If you have to go, I cannot very well refuse you that, can I?”
Kendra didn’t offer that he had certainly refused her worse than a simple bathroom break.
“Thank you,” she said gratefully, her mind whirling. It was another good opportunity to escape, but how?
“Kendra needs to use the washroom. You will accompany her.”
“Yes, sir.” Leonid seemed only too happy to oblige in Kendra’s humiliation.
He gestured for her to move, and she didn’t hesitate, following the men off the plane. She was painfully aware of the way they watched her through their peripheral vision, as if they could both read her intentions to flee. In minutes, they had stepped through the gates, the passengers flowing in different directions. Kendra stared after them wistfully, wondering how easy it would be for her to steal away among them.
Not with this hair. Why didn’t I ever think to dye it when I went back to America? She knew it was just another irrelevant thought that didn’t change her current position.
“What are you doing?” Leonid snarled. “Let’s keep moving.”
Kendra hadn’t even realized she’d stopped moving until the gorilla had spoken. Without a word, she kept going, her stride overtaking her husband and Leonid. She located the restrooms and was at the ladies’ door in moments, not checking to see if Leonid had caught up.
I must find a way out of here. I will escape the airport and find my way into Paris by subway. From there, I will devise a plan. But first, I have to figure out a way to get away from Petro and Leonid.
She made her way inside a stall and sat heavily on the toilet, peeking through the slat in paneling. Of course, there were no windows in the bathroom. It was a security breech in the middle of an airport terminal, and even if it hadn’t been, where would they put one?
Her eyes trailed up toward the ceiling, and her heart skipped a beat.
The inside of the bathroom roof was made of particle board.
Could she really do this? She considered how it might work. If she could make it up there, unseen, she could easily shift into her fox form and crawl through the rafters with relative ease.
Excitement mounting, Kendra waited until the woman in the neighboring stall finished her business and washed her hands, exiting the bathroom. She listened, hearing no other signs of life in the huge, sterile room. If she was going to do it, she wasn’t going to have much time to decide. She had no doubt that she wouldn’t be alone for long. The traffic in the airport was just too much.
I can do this! she thought with renewed hope, blood rushing through her ears. Cautiously, she opened the door to the cubicle in which she sat to double check that she was alone. And just as quickly as it had come, the blood drained out of her face and into her toes.
Leonid lounged against the sink, looking at his nails with boredom.
“All done?” he chirped sarcastically. “I didn’t hear you flush the toilet.”
“Trevor? Can you come in here, please?”
Marika’s voice filtered into his office, and Trevor pulled his eyes away from the computer screen where he had been working.
“One sec! I’m almost done,” he told her. “I’ll be—”
“I need you now, please!”
Instantly, Trevor was out of his chair, alarmed by her tone. He rushed into the living room, but Marika was not there. “Where are you?”
“I am in the bedroom,” she called back, and he spun around to find her. Trevor jogged back toward the rear of the apartment. He pushed open the slightly ajar door and smiled slightly.
Marika stood dressed in a black leather bodice, her fiery hair pinned up in a severe bun atop her head. Her ripe, full breasts were a breathtaking mountain of cleavage against the suffocating outfit. Impossibly long legs were accented by black fishnet stockings and four-inch platform stilettos, studded in silver bullets. In her pale hands, she held a horsehair whip, which she ran playfully through her fingers.
“And what is this?” he drawled, his deadline already forgotten in the next room.
“Shut up.” Her voice was like whiplash, and for a moment, Trevor was scarred by her tone. But as she approached, she licked her lips, making him recognize that they were in the middle of a roleplay session.
Marika had slowly begun introducing him to new ideas in the bedroom, toys and positions, things he had not even read about. She approached, gently using the whip to stroke his face.
“You have been working too hard,” she told him. “I have warned you, but you don’t listen.”
“I am sorry,” Trevor answered, suddenly feeling slightly guilty despite understanding they were only playing a game.
“Shut up!” she snapped again. “You will only speak when I say.”
“Okay,” he agreed. The slap came without warning across his face, and Trevor reeled back, shocked. Marika’s eyes glimmered, and Trevor pursed his lips together, his heart racing. He was not sure if he was excited or angered.
“I said, no speaking.” She slapped him again, and he winced at the sting. Marika continued to circle around him like a lion on the prowl. “All work and no play makes Trevor a dull boy, doesn’t it?”
He nodded and stared at her beautiful face, suddenly a mask of sensual severity. This time, the blow was administered with the whip, and to his arms. He gasped at the unexpected harshness of the leather on him, but he was instantly aroused. Suddenly, Marika slipped a collar around his neck, and he was being led to the bed by a leash.
“You must be punished,” she told him, and Trevor was ready for the penance. A pointed heel pushed him onto his rock-solid stomach, and she yanked the leash back slightly, blocking his wind. Her hot breath was in his ear. “You are a naughty boy.” A wet tongue touched his lobe, and a rush of heat flowed through his body.
She released the grip she had on him, her hand slipping under his pants to caress him gently but with the promise of something more. Trevor groaned loudly, relishing the sensations and emotions coursing through him. Never had he known such dark sensuality, and he craved it when Marika wasn’t there.
“Silence!” she hissed again, drawing her mouth to his. Eagerly, he licked out to taste the sweetness of her lips, relishing the feeling of her nearness, even as the whip hit his rear and he flipped over in pain.
She
loomed above him on her knees, smiling as if she had anticipated the move. Immediately, she straddled him, her crotchless panties making her velvety depth accessible to take in his throbbing manhood. Leaning forward, she pinned his hands down, her luscious breasts directly in his face, and guided him into her without warning.
Marika began to partially ride him, her nipples now exposed, grazing his open mouth as she teased him, her teal eyes blazing with devious pleasure.
Trevor could take no more. With superhuman strength, he overpowered her, making her the submissive party. His hands pushed her into the mattress while he plunged fully into her roughly and relentlessly. Marika screamed out, only bringing him higher as her nails dug mercilessly into his back. Trevor could barely feel the blood pouring from the marks.
He started awake, as if the cuts in his back were fresh and raw.
For a moment, he had forgotten that he’d paused to rest alongside the Vosges Mountains to catch his breath and fallen asleep as a result. It had been so long since he’d shifted in such a capacity, let alone flown such a distance, and his body was beaten. Even though he knew he had no time to rest, he desperately wanted to reclaim the dream he’d been having. In it, he was reliving the last encounter he’d had with Marika, three days earlier.
Was it only three days ago? I feel like I haven’t touched her in months. Will I ever get to smell her lavender shampoo in her hair again? The notion that he might not was enough to get him to lift his huge head and blink his wary eyes around the barren countryside.
I need to keep going, he thought grimly. I’m so close now.
“What are we doing here, Petro?” Kendra asked nervously, gazing about.
Would he really try something in such a public place? That doesn’t really fit his MO.
Her husband looked surprised at the question.
“It’s the Eiffel Tower, Kendra. You love the Eiffel Tower,” he said simply. “Or has that changed in the last year, too?”
She did not know how to respond, but as the lift continued to rise, so did her blood pressure. Petro had ordered Leonid to wait at the base of the tower, ushering her into the building.
“Petro,” she began, but her husband held his fingers to his lips, indicating the other passengers. He didn’t want to hear what she had to say until they were out of the earshot of others, apparently. Kendra stifled a grunt. “I doubt very much that they speak Ukrainian,” she muttered, but she did not speak again until they were on the top level.
Petro offered his arm to her, and they ventured toward the galley.
He cannot kill me up here. There is no way for him to throw me from here, she tried to reassure herself, but she knew that Petro was capable of awful feats. She wondered if she would survive such a fall, even with her immortal qualities. After all, she knew so little about her abilities. Yes, she could heal, but not nearly as fast as other Enchanted beings. Being tossed from such a height would surely result in a horrible outcome. What if it didn’t kill her and left her unable to move? What would Petro do with her then? He wouldn’t have any use for a paralyzed wife. He would certainly abandon her.
Stop getting ahead of yourself. You have no idea what’s happening yet. Stop being rash. That’s how you ended up here in the first place.
There was a time when Kendra Jagger had believed she was far more in control of her life than she was. Adventurous and free-spirited, Kendra had refused to fall into the trap of pleasing others like her sister Samantha or searching for a higher enlightenment like Harmony.
No, Kendra had had a mind of her own, determined not to fall victim to the same mistakes her mother, Jennifer, had made in her own life, and she had simply packed up and moved far away, thinking that the Ukraine sounded exotic and glamorous. It wasn’t long before trouble found her in Europe, mostly because Kendra had spent the last of her quickly dwindling stash of money, and she needed to find a way to earn extra cash.
At nineteen, she was too naïve to understand the inner workings of the dark underworld unfolding around her, even though she prided herself on being worldly. It was then that she had been introduced to a circle of sinister souls who had seemed engaging at first, particularly when they gave Kendra an offer she couldn’t refuse.
The plan had been simple enough at first: distract wealthy men while the crew cleared out their houses. Then, the six of them would share the profits and sell whatever they could until the next job. What could possibly have gone wrong?
For two years, Kendra had played her role as the femme fatale while the others did their own part, and money had begun to roll in; so much so that it attracted the attention of the very man backing the endeavor.
Petro Bondar had his sights on the women in the crew, particularly the very beautiful and alluring Kendra Jagger. Initially, she had been flattered by his attention, but it quickly became apparent that she was dealing with a very dangerous man.
“What’s the problem, dove? I will give you everything you want if you stay with me.”
Kendra had managed to brush off his advances for a few weeks, but the more she resisted his bold moves, the angrier Petro became.
It was then that Kendra realized she needed to get out of Kiev and head home, even if it meant reconciling with her family, whom she hadn’t spoken to since arriving in Europe.
As if he’d read her mind, Petro had then laid out the awkward proposition which still sent chills through Kendra ten years later: “You’ll marry me, or I’ll find a better use for you.”
Kendra had been shocked by the threat, especially when Svetlana, one of the other women in her robbery crew and the redhead’s only friend, was put to work in a sex trafficking ring.
“The choice is yours. Me, or the rest of Ukraine,” Petro told her coldly.
She made her decision: to pull off one final heist and flee with the proceeds, but Petro had Leonid watching her from the day he’d set his sights on her. Instead, she found herself walking down the aisle with the mob boss two days shy of her twenty-second birthday.
It had been Kendra’s secret hope that Petro would eventually just tire of her and send her on her way, but that thought wasn’t that appealing, either. Who knew what he might do to her if he got bored?
Svetlana’s life wasn’t what she wanted for herself, and through the indignation she felt for her friend, Kendra realized that she would have to form a plan to get them both out of the country together.
Slowly, she began to squirrel away a stash of money, her mind working on ways to escape detection. She knew the only way to accomplish such an amazing feat was through biding her time. There was nowhere that she could go that Petro didn’t have his tentacles.
Returning to America was risky now, particularly since Petro knew her real name. Would he go after her family? Maybe not, but Kendra knew she couldn’t find them, either, just in case.
She was smart enough to know that one did not simply walk up to a mob boss and ask for a divorce, hoping for an amicable split. She also knew that if she tapped into any of his resources, she would easily be tracked. Kendra agonized for months on how to escape her evil husband.
It wasn’t until having lunch with Svetlana one day that she figured out how to do it. By then, Svetlana had proved herself worthy enough to run her own house of pleasure, but it was clear to see that the blonde was at her wits’ end.
“Danya left for Australia yesterday,” Svetlana told her casually.
“Oh?” Kendra took a sip of strong coffee and raised an eyebrow with polite interest. She was vaguely aware of Leonid nearby, though he was becoming as commonplace as the furniture these days.
“Sanctioned, of course,” Svetlana continued, and Kendra’s mouth pursed. She understood the subtle jab.
She acts as if I have any say in what’s going on. I want to get you out of here as much as you want to get out of here, Kendra wanted to scream. Instead, she put her cup back to her lips and took another sip of the bitter liquid.
The comings and goings of Svetlana’s friends was hardly
earth-shattering information to Kendra. She was painfully aware of Leonid listening to their conversation, and she cast Svetlana a wary look.
“Yes. She is marrying a man there,” Svetlana continued. Kendra’s eyes shot up in shock.
“When did she meet a man from Australia?” She wracked her brain trying to recall any mention of this but could not. It only made sense that the girl had married one of her clients.
“She met him online through one of those order-a-wife sites,” Svetlana replied softly, and Kendra almost spat out her coffee.
“What?” she choked. “How?” She couldn’t imagine a world where Danya’s pimp would have allowed for such an arrangement, but Svetlana nodded.
“The idiot Aussie paid too much for her, if you ask me, but at least she’s free.”
“Yes,” Kendra said slowly, shooting a furtive look at Leonid, who finally looked as if he had heard enough and was dozing off in his chair. At least Danya was freer there than she had been with them.
Kendra suddenly became aware of Petro’s arm encircling her waist, drawing her back to the horrifying present that she found herself facing as they stood taking in the view.
“Is this how you remember it?” he asked. Kendra swallowed, trying to brace herself for her impending death or crippling future.
“No,” she answered truthfully. “It was much more exciting the last time I came here.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Petro’s jaw clench.
“I don’t understand you, Kendra. I rescued you from poverty, made you my wife, introduced you to my friends. I gave you everything you ever wanted, and how do you repay me? By running off in the middle of the night with another man?”
A cold smile formed on Kendra’s lips at his ridiculous summary. Was that really how he saw it? Could he be that delusional, or was he clinging to some hope that she might have grown to love him, even after kidnapping her?
“I didn’t run off with another man, Petro. I met another man after I ran off.” She watched him grind his teeth, obviously steeling his temper. He would not make a scene in front of a crowd, of that she was certain. He valued his privacy far too much, and he would never lose control in front of witnesses.
