by Aliyah Burke
Not even when he had begun making his life with a sword had he been scared like this. He’d always been sure of his ability. But, tonight, at the sight of her being accosted, fear had crashed over him. When that wave retreated, it removed any remaining bit of modern-day ideas on proper behavior, leaving in its wake the warrior who’d been known and feared as The Lion of Midnight. He charged while his battle cry ripped from his throat.
Cleo whimpered, and he looked at her. Her gaze remained hidden from him, and he opened his mouth, but the taxi stopped at their hotel. Tossing some bills at the driver, Nik slid out with Cleo still in his arms. He never released her, just strode into the building. The staff watched them but none said a word. In the room, he immediately headed to the bed where he reluctantly placed her.
Her big expressive eyes opened slowly, and in their depths, he could see the shine of unshed tears. Nik had to force back his desire when her tongue snuck out to skim her full lips.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Cleo’s emotional pain was such he could feel it. Mixed in with the fear and hurt lingered something else, as well. Nik shoved down the words of reprimand. She doesn’t need those words right now.
Cupping one hand along her face, he asked, “Are you in need of a doctor?”
“No.” Her voice was low and hesitant. “I just twisted my wrist and ankle. I’ll be fine.”
Nik glanced at her and saw the shakes she tried to hide. Silent, he began undressing her, and soon, she stood before him in the shower. The warm water pounded her skin while he washed her. As he crouched and ran the soapy cloth over her legs, he swallowed back more anger.
I need to go work out.
Just as he had washed her, Nik also dried her, running the thick absorbent towel over her skin until no moisture remained. Carrying her naked body to the bed, he then found her lotion and rubbed it all over her clean body.
“Sleep, snežinka,” he murmured against her hair. Nik held her long past knowing she slept. He didn’t want to leave her, but he needed to get rid of the rage and coiled energy within him. With slow movements, he untangled their bodies and walked down to the lower level.
Stepping from the last step, Nik experienced a sensation of falling before it vanished. Nik closed his eyes after taking in his surroundings, as a vicious curse left his mouth. He no longer stood in the suite. It was like staring out across nothing. Glancing down, he frowned at the fog, which rose higher than his ankles. That wasn’t the only change.
Nik no longer wore jeans and boots. He wore leathers, and in his hand, he held his sword. The same sword he’d carried the day Freya granted him long life.
The sound of a single horse galloping toward him sent spirals of energy up his spine. That’s a powerful steed, and I’d bet anything he’s armored and carrying a man attired the same way. Instinctively, he adjusted his stance, as well as changing the grip on the hilt of weapon.
An angry gray charged from the fog, large hooves tore up clods of the ground with each thundering stride. The protective armor the stallion wore gleamed even in the subdued light. There wasn’t much time to dwell on that for, in the next second, he had to block a blow from the sword-wielding man who rode the horse. The shock reverberated up his arms and throughout his body.
Damn it!
Instinct took over. He sidestepped, dropping the blade and drawing blood in a chink in the armor. Nik turned, shrugging his shoulders. He waited for man and beast to turn and charge, again. He didn’t have long to wait. The stallion rose on his hind legs and neighed a challenge. The warrior whirled his sword over his head as he jabbed his heels into the horse. Together, they raced toward Nik.
Time to dehorse him. Nik adjusted his stance and waited, all the while he kept an eye on the spikes, which stuck out from the equine’s armor. He bit back a moan of pain as one caught his unprotected shoulder moments before he grabbed the rider and dragged him to the ground.
Thrust for thrust.
Parry for parry.
The void of emptiness filled with the clashing sounds of metal.
Nik’s body burned with exhaustion as the battle raged on. Sword practice in the gym at his home was way different than actual battle. His opponent never seemed to tire. Stumbling back from the force of particularly strong strike, Nik barely blocked the next swing.
“Enough!” An echo-y voice broke through the fog.
Nik rolled to his feet and placed himself in fighting stance. He may be out of battling shape, but he wouldn’t go down without a fight. Never. I have to get back to Cleo.
The other man swore and shoved his sword into the ground before pulling his helmet off. Nik held onto his.
“This is unfair, even for you, uncle.”
Uncle? Altering his stance so he could see better in the direction of the voice, Nik shook his head to get some of the sweat out of his eyes. What the hell is going on?
Before his eyes, the armor-wearing figure changed into a man in dark brown leathers, a fur cloak draped over one shoulder, pinned with a giant brooch. He raked a pale, long-fingered hand through his hair and glared at Nik. Eyes the color of light blue with a ring of red around the pupil met his gaze.
Loki.
“You know who I am.” It was a statement not a question.
“Yes,” Nik answered.
“Where is your respect?” Loki asked his tone harsh.
“You aren’t my god,” Nik said with defiance. “When I prayed to your kind, it was Svetovid.”
Loki raised a hand, palm up, and Nik tensed. “I’ve killed for less, mortal.”
“Enough, Loki.” Freya appeared between them. “Be gone from here.”
“Very well. While he’s here with you, maybe I’ll just pay his woman a visit.”
“Touch her and die,” Nik roared with anger. Loki vanished with a rumble of evil laughter.
Freya looked at him. “Send me to her,” Nik ordered. The goddess just stood there. “Get me back to her!”
“Nik…Nik…” Cleo’s dulcet tone, still sleep-laden, came to him, and he latched onto it like a madman.
Blinking his eyes, Nik turned his head to see her above him by two steps.
“Cleo?” He reached for her, sighing in relief when she was in his arms.
“You okay? I’ve been calling your name for a while.”
Inhaling her fragrance, he closed his eyes as the hint of Siberian fir came to him with an undertone of pear. The entire compilation of scents was wonderful, but those two notes were the ones that hit him most.
“Nik?”
“I’m fine.”
“Then, do you care to tell me why you’re bleeding?”
Bleeding? “I am?” He pulled back and looked at his left arm. He bled from where the spike on the horse’s armor had cut him.
“Yes. Did that guy from the park do this?” Cleo touched near the wound.
That’s a good explanation. “He must have.”
“Let me clean it up for you.”
As she worked, he noticed she had a brace on her wrist, and he recalled her gimping up the steps. He wasn’t sure where that came from and would ask her later when he could do so without getting angry.
“How are you?” he asked, tucking some hair behind her ear.
“Feeling foolish. I should have listened to you, but instead—”
Nik silenced her with a kiss. Using that to tell her how he felt, how glad he was she was okay.
Chapter Thirteen
Cleo smiled through the pain. Her ankle pain killed her, but the concert was so worth it. The venue packed, and the screams from the excited fans made it worthwhile. Nik’s strong body brushed against her ass. Having him with doesn’t hurt either. Pressing back into him, she smirked at the answering thrust his hips delivered.
“Are you trying to see if I’ll take you here, Cleo?” Nik’s baritone purred seductively in her ear.
“Would you?” she questioned, turning her face so she could see him.
“In a heartbeat.”
/> Cleo shivered at the promise in his tone. “Sorry,” she said over the crowds roar. “Last song.”
He frowned. “So, that’s how it’s going to be?”
She nodded and turned her attention back to the stage where Lane stepped up to the microphone, thanking everyone for being such a wonderful crowd.
“I love you, Lane!” a woman beside them squealed and flashed him.
“Thank you; love you, too,” he responded with a tug on his brim of black cowboy hat.
Behind her, Nik’s chest moved with his laughter. Cleo smiled as the music began. Into the song, she started when two large men appeared by her.
“Cleo Laurens?”
He doesn’t have an accent. She looked at them. Jeans and black shirts, very nondescript, and yet, she would bet her life they were security. “Yes,” Cleo answered. “Can I help you?”
“Can you come with us please?”
“What’s going on?” Nik interrupted.
“Who are you, sir?” the second man asked.
“With her,” Nik stated without missing a beat.
Man number one said, “Lane sent us to find you.”
Cleo grinned. She should have known. “Okay. Can he come, too?” she asked, pointing back to Nik.
“Sure.”
They wove through the screaming crowd to a side door. “Thank you, Moscow, y’all’ve been great!” Lane’s voice filled the air, only to be answered by a deafening roar.
“Come on,” the second man said, opening the door.
Cleo stepped through after him, only to stop when she heard a feminine voice holler, “Nikolas? Nikolas Andreyevich, it is you!” Cleo turned in time to see a beautiful woman move in close to Nik for a kiss. The kiss was on the cheek, but still, white-hot jealousy tore through her. They began talking in Russian, and Cleo turned away and slipped into the hall with the bodyguards.
“Here you go, Ms. Laurens.” A door swung in, and she moved into the room. They shut it behind her as she thanked them.
Across the way, another door opened, and in strode Lane with his hat in hand. She could see the exhaustion on his face. When he saw her, a large smile crossed his features, making him even more handsome.
“Hey, stranger,” Cleo said. “Great show.” She’d missed him.
He tossed his hat to the side and strode toward her, gathering her in for a big hug. “Hey, Cleo. Good to see you.”
She returned the embrace. “And you. Congrats on becoming a daddy.”
“Thanks.” Lane released her and went to grab them both a drink from the small fridge in the room. Handing her one, he sat down and bent forward, taking a long drink of the cold refreshment.
“When do you leave?” she asked.
Lane leaned back against his chair when there came a knock on the door before it swung open to admit Nik. Cleo swallowed as her pulse skyrocketed. Lane turned his head and glanced back at her with an arched eyebrow before looking back at the tall man moving toward her. She rose.
Pushing to his feet, Lane held out his hand. “I’m Lane. And you are?”
“Nikolas Andreyevich.”
Cleo watched the men shake hands. Their faces entirely different. Amusement on Lane’s and a mixture of jealousy and something else on Nik’s.
“Nice to meet you,” Lane said.
“And you. Great show you put on.” Nik walked over and stood next to her.
Cleo’s eyes narrowed as the sweet smell of perfume reached her. Anger churned in her belly. I have no right to be jealous. What we have is just a vacation kind of thing. She took several deep breaths and refused to allow herself to pull away when he wrapped an arm around her. It took a lot for her to forget the lipstick on his cheek from where the woman had kissed him.
“Thanks,” Lane said, reclaiming his seat.
Shrugging out of Nik’s touch, Cleo did the same. She ground her back teeth when Nik lowered himself to the seat beside her, and that sickly scent assaulted her nose, again.
“How’s Kenya?” Cleo asked.
The smile that lit up Lane’s face told them both how much he loved his woman. “She’s doing fine. I can’t wait to get home and see her.”
Tears pricked her eyes, and Cleo nodded. She missed her friend, as well. “Give her my love will—”
The sound of a cell broke in. Lane flushed, and Cleo just nodded, understanding he’d want to speak to Kenya.
“I’ll just be a minute,” he said, flipping open his phone.
“Take your time,” Cleo assured him.
“What’s wrong, Cleo?” Nik asked as Lane walked off to talk in private.
She turned her head and hissed, “Do you really need to sit so close reeking of that cheap ass perfume?”
His brown eyes narrowed. “Cheap ass… Oh, you mean from—”
Getting to her feet, Cleo glared at him. “I don’t care to know her name, thank you. Just like I don’t think that’s really your color, but then, maybe I’m wrong. Whore red just may be the color you like.”
She stepped away from him, feeling as if the bubble she’d been living in had just been shattered, dropping her back to earth and reality. A reality where she was a divorced woman whose husband said she didn’t know how to please a man in bed.
His hand gripped her wrist. “Where are you going?”
“Let go of me, Nik.”
He refused, getting to his feet and staring down at her. “Never. Why this jealousy now?”
“You wanted it before. Now that it’s here, you don’t?” Cleo shook her head. I don’t understand why I’m feeling like this. And I don’t like it.
“L— She is nothing to me,” he said.
Jerking away from his touch, Cleo clenched her fists before relaxing them and breathing deeply. “I have no say in who you see. I don’t know what’s going on. I shouldn’t be jealous, but seeing that lipstick…I just…I…just need some space.” Mind racing she, moved to another part of the room.
Not much time passed before his hand curled around her forearm. “Look at me, Cleo,” he ordered.
“Leave me alone.”
His fingers tightened when a male voice broke in. “I don’t know how they do things here in Russia, but where I come from, manhandlin’ a woman ain’t done.”
Cleo turned her head to find Lane staring at them both, thumbs hooked in his belt loop, looking more dangerous than she could ever recall. Nik answered with a low growl. I don’t need a fight on my hands. She stepped away from Nik’s touch and walked to Lane who’d beckoned to her.
“Come home with us,” Lane whispered low. “We have more than enough room.”
She nodded. “How long?”
“As soon as you can get your things.”
“Thank you.” Cleo reached out to touch his arm, but stopped at the last second. Deep in the back of her mind, she knew Nik wouldn’t like that. “I’ll be back.”
“We’ll be waiting. You okay going on your own?”
“He won’t hurt me, Lane.”
A slight smile cracked his face, a tense one with no humor in it at all. “Good. Don’t know how I’d explain that one to Kenya. Jailed over here because I killed him.”
Cleo wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight. “Thank you, for everything.” Then, she stepped back and walked over to Nik whose expression could have sent hell into an ice age.
“I’ll be right through this door if you need anything,” Lane said seconds before he slipped through the door, closing it behind him. And leaving her alone with Nikolas Andreyevich.
“Come with me, snežinka.”
“Nik,” she began, putting her gaze upon him. “I’m sorry for my behavior earlier. I don’t know what has come over me. But it was uncalled for.” Jesus, this is hard. I don’t want to leave him. It’s the best thing to do, get out now before I fall even deeper. “I…I, um, I’m going home with Lane. Back to the States.”
His eyes hardened, nostrils flared, and he clenched his jaw. Exposing her to the imposing man he’d told her he could b
e at times. The one who may not be so nice.
“Your vacation isn’t over.”
Closing her eyes briefly, Cleo swallowed. “I know. But it is almost over, and this way, I can fly back in a more comfortable setting.” Reaching out to touch his face, she skimmed her thumb along his lower lip. “Nik. I can’t even begin to explain to you how having you with me in Russia, sharing…what we shared, what it all means to me.”
All the anger and frustration in his gaze faded, leaving behind an emotion she still wasn’t sure she believed in. He kissed the pad of her thumb.
“Are you angry with me, snežinka?”
“No. I was jealous. I forget you are a wealthy man, and I’m sure a lot of people know you.”
Nik muttered something in Russian before he cupped her cheek. “Let’s get you packed then, so you can go.”
Shouldn’t he beg me to stay or something like that? “Yes, let’s.”
Understanding filled his gaze, and he closed the distance and lowered his mouth to rest above hers. “I don’t want you to go, snežinka. And, my offer still stands; you can always stay with me. I will take care of you for as long as you allow me to. But I won’t force you to do something you don’t want to. So, if you feel the need to go back to America, I won’t stop you.” He kissed her and when it ended he added, “I don’t like it. But I won’t stop you.”
Blinking back tears, Cleo buried her head into his chest and held onto him as if her life depended on it. Behind her, she heard the door open and shut.
Nik said, “I’ll have her back here with her luggage, as soon as possible.”
Cleo snuggled against him as they left the large building and headed to his vehicle. She was going to miss him.
Nik strove to keep his emotions in check. Every instinct within him cried to demand she stay, even if it took throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her off to a place she couldn’t leave from.
He watched her pack the final bag, knowing if he went near her, he would unpack it all. The room was silent except for the sound of her zipping the luggage.
“Nik?” Her soft voice wrapped around him.
Glancing at her, Nik noticed the sheen of tears in her eyes. He moved to her side and pulled her into his embrace. Stroking a hand up and down her back, he muttered, “We need to get you back to them.”
