The towel truck. She’d get a stack fresh and clean for Poppy and make her happy. Her heart swelled for a moment as she thought about the wonderful Jamaican woman who loved God and wanted to help Robyn. She was like a guardian angel.
Poppy would know what she should do, Robyn decided as she waited for the truck to park, climbing out of the cart so she could get the freshest of fresh towels. She’d tell Poppy about how guilty she felt and see if she had to call Cole and tell him the truth.
Was that best for the baby? What would help him the most in life? Those questions were the only ones that she asked herself, and had helped her make every decision she’d made since she’d realized she was pregnant. Maybe they hadn’t been the smartest decisions—like coming to Florida to find Alec. But that decision seemed to be working out okay in the end.
The driver was sitting in the front seat, on the phone, so Robyn went around to the back to wait for him near the loading dock when suddenly she felt someone come up behind her.
“Hey, Robyn’s Egg.”
What? She spun around and squinted into the late afternoon sun, because she really, truly wasn’t sure if she was imagining that Cole Morrow was standing two inches from her face. Fear and shock froze her. “Wha…what are you doing here?”
“I followed you here.”
He’d followed her? “Why?”
“You think I’d just let you leave me, Rob?” He reached around her and flipped open the back of the van. “Quick, hide in here.”
“What? Why?” She barely got the word out before he pushed her in and climbed after her, shoving her deeper into a mass of soft, fluffy towels, pulling the door closed behind him. “Cole, what’s going on?”
“You have to hide.” Cole was strong, a fighter with solid muscles and he easily got control of her, burying them both in a mountain of white, the overwhelming smell of laundry detergent suddenly making her feel sick.
“What are you do—”
He slammed his hand over her mouth. “Shut the fuck up,” he said. “Or I’ll hurt you.”
She tried to scream, but it was muffled under his hand, his fighter’s body easily holding her down. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. She tried to squirm and flail, but his grip got tighter, then his knee was on her stomach.
No, not there. Don’t hurt me there. The baby! But she couldn’t scream any of that, because he’d smothered her mouth with his hand.
“How the hell did this open up?” A man’s voice made it through the barrier of white towels that hid them, then the doors slammed hard, and the back of the van went black.
Cole didn’t loosen his grip for a few seconds, but he finally did, moving the knee that terrified her so much.
“You’re coming with me,” he said in a gruff voice, his hand still over her mouth.
She shook her head, hard. “No.”
“Oh, yes, you are. You’re coming with me, Robyn Bickler, or I swear to God I’ll cut that baby out and drive this truck over it.”
The last meal she’d eaten rose in her mouth, a familiar feeling of nausea that she knew couldn’t be stopped. He jerked away and disappeared through a small opening to the front of the van, and suddenly it started to move, barreling out of the resort at a fairly high speed.
Robyn threw up in some towels and wept.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Alec sat at a kitchen table in a house he’d never been in before, looking at an unfamiliar backyard and wondering where the hell he’d be tomorrow.
This was his life now. Was this what he’d signed up to do? Hide and run and land in strange places with strange people?
Not that the old man who worked a pizza dough on the kitchen island was strange—he was just one in a sea of people who would come and go and come and go. Mostly go.
A dark pain squeezed his gut. In the turmoil of the moment, when Gabe whisked him out of the scene, he’d barely been able to say good-bye to Kate.
“I’m not going to see her again, am I?” he asked, not really expecting an answer from Nino, but desperate for someone, even this old man, to give him good news.
“You might if Gabriel pulls a rabbit out of his hat.” He flipped the large circle of dough in the air with expert ease. “And, let me tell you, he not only pulls rabbits out of hats, he’ll probably find a pig, a dog, and a gerbil in there, too.” He gave a yellowed grin. “My Gabriel is amazing like that.” He patted the pie and sprinkled it with flour. “Thick crust?”
“Don’t you understand?” Alec demanded. “I can’t just…disappear.”
Nino looked up from his pizza crust, peering over his glasses, his dark eyes fierce. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s what my grandson is being paid to do for you, right? Hide you so some lunatic mobster doesn’t try to…” He used two fingers to slice across his neck. “What’s the Russian equivalent of ‘swim with the fishes’?”
He shook his head, doubting this guy had ever had many brushes with the Mafia his country made famous. And if he had, he still wouldn’t know what brutal was. Vlitnik’s Bratva made La Cosa Nostra look like child’s play.
“Gabriel will get you to another place, another continent, with a new name and a new job. You won’t have to look over your shoulder anymore.”
He would as long as Vlitnik was alive. It was so personal with that bastard. He probably didn’t even want Alec to work for him anymore. No, he definitely didn’t want Alec to work for him now. He wanted to punish Alec for…something. What?
“Don’t you want that?” Nino asked, producing some kind of heavenly smelling red sauce from God knew where to spread on the pie. “To live in some pretty town in Australia or South America, near the beach, in the sunshine? Safe from this guy who’s after you?”
For a second, his head cleared, and he regarded the other man. “No,” he said simply. “That’s not what I want.”
“Then you want to die?” Nino challenged.
“No, I want to be a trainer, to live in peace in my home country, the United States of America, the place where I was born, the country I fought for. I want to live with the name I’ve had my whole life and pass that name on to another generation.” His voice rose with passion, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about the sting in his eyes or the way Nino was staring at him or the crack of his heart with every word.
“I want to live openly and free. And I want—”
“Special delivery.” Gabe’s voice came from the front room.
“Better not be pizza, Gabriel. I won’t eat that cardboard from Tropical Pizza.” He inched a little closer over the counter to whisper, “Who names a pizzeria ’Tropical’ anyway? It wasn’t invented in the tropics.”
“Not pizza,” Gabe said as his footsteps came closer to the back kitchen. “A secret guest.”
At the sight of Kate, Alec almost knocked his chair over as he stood. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Not a single sound. He just had the overwhelming urge to sweep her into his arms and squeeze and kiss and touch every inch of her to make sure she was real.
“Hey,” she whispered, giving him the impression that maybe she was holding back, too.
“You’re bruised,” he finally said, coming closer to see the bluish-purple discoloration left by that dickhead under her cheek.
“But free.” She touched her cheek. “More or less.”
“No more or less about it,” Gabe told them, spinning a kitchen chair around and dropping in it backward. “Don’t forget the basil, old man.”
Nino flattened him with a look. “We’re working under less-than-ideal conditions, Gabriel. You see a garden in this backyard?”
“No basil?”
Nino flipped his hand like he could smack Gabe. “I’m improvising.”
Alec ignored the family argument to concentrate on Kate, and what Gabe had just said. “Is she really free?” he asked.
Gabe eyed one, then the other. “From her ex-husband, yeah. He tried to bury the cops in legalese, but they have all the evidence th
ey need to keep him behind bars without bail for a while.”
Kate crossed her arms, hanging back in the doorway, her gaze on Alec. “I thought you left,” she said softly, just quiet and scared enough to break Alec’s heart.
“Tomorrow, right, Gabriel?” Nino asked as he slid his pizza into a ready oven. “Where is he off to tomorrow?”
Gabe let out a sigh, closing his eyes. “I pulled out a favor and got a temporary place in Costa Rica. I can keep you there for at least six months, then I think I can set up something permanent Down Under. Hope you like kangaroos, mate.”
Color drained from Kate’s face, leaving her bruise the color of an eggplant and her eyes wide. “Australia.” It wasn’t a question. More of a whisper of disbelief.
“It might as well be the moon,” Alec murmured, turning away.
For a long moment, neither one of them spoke, everything fading away as Alec looked back at Kate and thought one word.
Tomorrow.
The tension broke when Gabe’s cell rang, and he stood to pull it out of his pocket and answer, walking out of the room and speaking in low tones.
Nino wiped his hands on a cloth with a sigh. “They have good food in Costa Rica,” he finally said.
Kate smiled, a soft, sweet expression that made Alec reach out his hand to her. You could come with me. Could she read that request in his eyes? Would she even consider it?
“Son of a bitch.” Gabe marched back in, seemingly unaware of the dynamics in the room. “Robyn left.”
Alec whipped around. “Where’d she go?”
“If I knew, I’d be on her ass. Poppy’s a basket case, Nino. She’s convinced it’s her fault.”
“Well, she was supposed to watch the girl.” Nino slammed his rag on the table.
“She wasn’t under lock and key, and we have no reason to believe she’s in touch with Vlitnik, but we need to find her,” Gabe said. “One of the hotel vendors had his truck stolen, so maybe she changed her mind and made a break.”
“Why wouldn’t she just take her car?” Alec asked.
Gabe shrugged. “She left it in the main lot, and Luke’s searching it. Nino, you need to calm Poppy down, and by calm her down, I don’t mean get into a food fight.” Then, to Alec and Kate, “You’re both safest here. This house is completely off the radar, and no one knows I use it as a safe house except Nino. No one will find you here. We’ll look for her and keep you posted.”
Nino checked the pizza. “When you smell it, it’s ready. Mangia.”
“Chain lock and dead bolt,” Gabe called from the front room. “Nino, you drive. I’m leaving that purple GTO in the driveway. Here are the keys, in case of an emergency, which I would rather there not be.” He flipped them to Alec. “Put a scratch on it, and I’ll kill you with my bare hands and enjoy every minute.”
Alec followed him and the security instructions, returning to the kitchen to find that Kate hadn’t moved.
“So, you’re free,” he said, taking a step closer.
She lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m free of some things,” she said. “Free of my ex, who was more of a nut job than I even knew, and there are no more threats on my life.” She lifted her hand and set it on his shoulder, like a silent invitation to dance. “And I unloaded some guilt this afternoon with my father.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “I think the trauma of what Steven tried to do was a wakeup call, and, honestly, it helped my dad and me talk about some things that have been on our minds for years.”
“You mean from when your mother died.”
“Yes, and when he turned taking care of me into an obsession.” She gave a wry smile and dragged her hand down his arm, lingering on his bicep. “I officially gave him his walking papers as super-protective dad today.”
He touched her face, lightly skimming his thumb over the bruise. “So you really are a free woman. A free, strong, resourceful, smart, gorgeous woman. With a mean eye-gouge.”
Her smile was slow but didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m not free of you.”
“Me?” He snorted and slipped his hand into her thick mahogany-colored hair. “You will be tomorrow.”
She looked up at him and met his eyes, a world of hurt and uncertainty and…something else making those green eyes darken to the color of priceless emeralds.
“I kind of hate tomorrow,” she whispered, leaning closer. “I’m not done with you, Petrov.”
He lowered his head, touching her forehead with his lips. “You have gigantic words yet to teach me.”
She closed her fingers around his hand, then placed his palm over her heart. “And little words. Like now and yes and please and now and…now. Did I mention now?”
Now was good. But tomorrow? “Kate.” He barely breathed the word. “You know what’s going to happen, don’t you?”
“I hope we’re about to have wild, hot monkey sex.” She broke away from him, walked to the oven, and flipped the switch to off. “Followed by cold pizza because you are not going to leave me, move to another country under a new name, and become nothing but a great memory without…without…”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. “I’m not going to…” He kissed her hard, burying the rest of the sentence. But he was going to leave, so he shouldn’t say those words. “I’m not going to be nothing but a great memory.”
But maybe he was, so right now, he just wanted to use his hands and body and mouth and heart for exactly what they were meant for…loving Kate.
Chapter Thirty
The closest bedroom still seemed like a mile away right then, with need gnawing at Alec’s whole body. He couldn’t take his hands or mouth off Kate, kissing her down the hall to a bedroom he vaguely remembered seeing when he’d arrived.
They stopped halfway to strip off some clothes, her top and his shirt, and then he pushed her into the wall so he could touch what that exposed. He unsnapped her bra and let it flutter to the floor, and she worked on his pants, both of them moaning, groaning, fighting as each breath grew more ragged.
No, not fighting. Nothing about this was like fighting. He was using his hands to appreciate her and excite her and thrill them both. It was working.
They finally made it to an unlit room that smelled vaguely of powdery perfume and floor polish, falling onto a bed that barely fit them both.
It was like his hands had become unlocked, along with his head and all the crap that had been holding him back. A dam broke somewhere in his chest, and everything he ever knew about inflicting pain disappeared as he used his hands and body to delight and please both of them.
She arched and bowed, laughed and whimpered, and whispered his name so that it sounded like sex on her lips.
His hands were everywhere, on her breasts, opening her jeans, sliding over her backside. And so were hers, rubbing appreciatively over every muscle, grasping at his zipper, reaching to stroke him.
Suddenly, the gears shifted. He wasn’t just taking pleasure or giving it, he was immersed in her touch. He thrust into her palm, a sweet, sweet agony that fired from the tip of him to his balls and back to his brain. Nothing had ever felt so good, ever. So hot and achy and good.
On his back, he let her kneel up, straddling him, her jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, open to a V that led right to the very place he longed to invade.
She paused for a minute, getting her breath, gathering her thick auburn hair to lift it off her shoulders to cool down. Looking down at him, she crooked her head.
“Why is this man smiling?”
“That’s a stupid question, Smarty-Pants.”
“No, you’re, like, grinning.”
“I’m, like, so turned on I’m going to explode.” He tried to pull her down and shut her up, but she was having none of it.
“You look happy.”
“I am.” He gave up the effort and just caressed her stomach and breasts. His eyes had adjusted, and he could see the shape of her in the shadows, the hard pebbles of her nipples, the indent of her w
aist. He traced his finger over one breast, circling and making her drop her head back with a grunt.
He dragged that finger down, seeing the way his hand looked against her. Seeing it…differently. Watching chills blossom in his wake, feeling her hips rock in response.
He reached the zipper and traveled lower, one finger over creamy, tight skin, over the mound. Lower.
“You’re really smiling now.”
“I’m really happy now.” He dipped his finger lower to touch the wet folds of his woman. His woman. His.
She’d hate that, but…that’s how he felt. Like she belonged to him in the most fundamental way.
He’d ruin everything if he told her that. “I’ve never…” Felt like this.
“Touched me? You did it the other night on the beach. I liked it. I loved it.” She lifted herself so she could push the jeans farther down. “I really loved it.”
He stroked the tender center, making her hiss. “I’ve never…” Wanted to make love. He’d wanted to get off, to get laid, to get a much-needed release. “I’ve never thought I could make you feel like this,” he finished.
She lowered herself, letting her hair tickle his cheeks and giving his finger even more access to her body. “You do, Alec. Now stop talking and get inside me.”
He rolled her over and helped her get rid of the jeans completely, stripping his own off with surprisingly shaky hands. He stroked the skin between her breasts, letting his cock rub against her for a preview of what was about to happen.
Fire licked through his balls, up his back, into his chest. This was too real, too much. Too good.
And he was leaving tomorrow.
“What?” she asked, lifting her head.
“I didn’t say anything.” He cupped her behind and lifted it.
“You sounded frustrated. Disappointed. You don’t have a condom?” There was a slight rise of panic in her voice that, for some reason, he adored.
Barefoot With a Bodyguard (Barefoot Bay Undercover) (Volume 1) Page 25
