by Amy Deason
Oh my God, what have I done?
Snapping her legs closed, she drew them up as far as she could and turned her back to Nikolas, wishing desperately that the door would open, allowing her to tumble out. Surely hitting the pavement at this insane speed would be less painful than how she was feeling now.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she lowered her head and let the tears fall.
She couldn’t believe what had just happened. What she had just let happen. She could have stopped him, she could have said no but she hadn’t.
God, how stupid was she?
The guilt and shame dropped on her like a mountain of bricks. She was supposed to be out looking for her dad and instead she was getting off in a car with a man she barely knew. A man she barely trusted. A man who killed like he was born with a gun in his hand, a man who fucked women, and men, without a second thought.
She sobbed long and hard, feeling sorry for herself. It wasn’t fair. This is not what she’d expected. Not at all. The tears continued to come, seeping out from underneath her closed lids. She should have just stayed in Texas. At least there she had been with people she knew. She had been safe. Now she was in a constant run for her life. And the man beside her may be the most dangerous of them all.
Letting him touch her had been a mistake. A huge, fucking mistake. And God help her, she wanted him to do it again.
Chapter 11
What the fuck? Was Cadence crying?
Nikolas had seen the tears on her face but had assumed they were because of the powerful climax she’d just experienced but now, with her sobbing in the far corner of the car, he wasn’t so sure. Her reaction had been wildly intense, far more than he had been expecting. Extremely responsive to his touch and when he’d slipped his fingers inside of her, she was so tight. Hell, she damn near came out of the seat.
Her moans and whimpers assured him she’d enjoyed it. More than enjoyed it. She had been explosive, coming over and over at his touch.
But now she was crying. He didn’t understand what the problem was but his stomach felt as though a fist had been driven through it. He hated to see women cry. It struck a microscopic nerve that he had yet to sever. He desperately wanted to comfort her but he resisted. No doubt she wouldn’t want him to touch her again. It probably wouldn’t help anyway. What was done was done. He couldn’t change it now. Nor would he.
He’d proven his point. A point which seemed stupid and childish now. But more than that, he’d gotten what he needed. She didn’t know anything more than what she’d told him. She was an innocent in this situation who had unintentionally placed herself in harm’s way to look for her father. Not caring that she might die or be kidnapped herself. How could she walk into something like this without thinking?
Stupid.
Sentiment, that’s what it was. Damn emotions. They were only good for getting a person into trouble. They were a distraction and a good way to get yourself killed. Or other people.
Taking his eyes from the road, he glanced at Cadence. She was huddled against the door, her dark hair trailing down her back in a tangled mess. Her shoulders continued to shake with the force of her tears and almost instantly the remorse slammed through him, catching him off guard.
He took a sharp breath, hearing it whistle through his clenched teeth. Now he was getting emotional.
What in the hell was this girl doing to him?
He never allowed himself to feel. Not since Jenika and she had been a mistake. Cadence would be too if he allowed her to be. He refused to do that. She deserved better. Better than him. This girl was more different than anyone he’d ever known. An unending contradiction. Quiet and mouthy, scared and brave. And damn it, he wanted to know more. More about her. More about her life. The things that made her happy, the things that made her sad. He wanted to know what made her laugh. He loved her laugh. It was a beautiful tinkling sound that struck a chord in him.
No, no, no! I cannot do this. I will not like her. I won’t do it.
His fingers tightened around the leather steering wheel. He wished they were already at the boat. At least then he wouldn’t have to worry about her escaping. Where was she going to go? Into the water? He wouldn’t put it past her to try.
God, why wouldn’t she quit crying?
And why was she crying anyway? Up until now, he had never seen her cry. Not when he relocated her wrist, not when she’d learned her father was dead. Those things should have been enough to make anyone break but she hadn’t. She’d held back her tears then.
So why now?
He couldn’t stand to hear it anymore. It was gnawing at him, tearing at his heart. Or what was left of it. He had to shut out the noise.
Reaching over, he turned the radio back on. Raising the volume, a dark, melancholy rift was spilling from the speakers.
Perfect.
It suited his mood. Dark and stormy. Full of regret and anguish. Shit, he should say something to her.
He opened his mouth but quickly closed it again. What was he going to say? Sorry, I touched you? Sorry I got you off?
Shaking his head, he returned his eyes to the highway. If he did that, he would be as stupid as she was. And besides, he wasn’t sorry.
Other than getting the truth from her, and he was confident he had, he’d enjoyed touching her. Hearing the sounds she made, the surprised gasps and anxious whimpers, it made him feel on top of the world. The only way it would have been better is if he’d gotten a release too. But he hadn’t and now he was faced with an intense, almost painful throbbing in his jeans.
Dropping one hand to his crotch, he re-adjusted, trying to find a more comfortable position. Which was difficult considering he was driving. He needed relief but not so much to take care of himself here and now. He’d suffered before, there was no reason he couldn’t now. And he was speeding down the highway in a jacked car with an emotional woman at his side. Not the best time to masturbate.
As soon as he could, he would find some hot, young woman to take care of his needs. One he wouldn’t feel guilty about. One that wouldn’t cry and cause his stomach to be turned into knots. One that would take what he offered and not ask for anything more.
Damn it, he didn’t want to feel anything. No guilt, no remorse, nothing. But this girl, shit, she was starting to get to him. And he didn’t like it. He had to get rid of her. Then he could go back to his usual stone-cold self. Back to the fuck-em-and-leave-em guy. Back to what he knew. Back to what he was.
Clenching his jaw, he willed his body to relax. To let everything slide off of him. But it wasn’t happening.
Fuck!
Staring straight ahead, he punched the gas, sending them rocketing further down the highway.
~ ~ ~
Someone was shaking her, telling her to wake up. Even with her eyes shut, she recognized the voice. The voice of the one person she didn’t want to see anymore.
“Stop pretending. I know you’re not asleep,” he said, his voice rough and bruising.
Giving up any chance of returning to the sanctuary of sleep, she kept her eyes closed, determined not to look at him. She shoved his hands away and moved closer to the door, effectively bouncing her head off the window.
“Shit!”
She rubbed her head, cursing under her breath. The way she was going, she was going to be in a full body cast before she got out of this mess. On the upside, at least if she was covered from head to toe in plaster, Nikolas wouldn’t be able to touch her again. The thought brought a fresh wave of memories crashing down on her. His agile fingers moving against her, knowing just where to touch her and how to touch her. God help her, she’d never felt anything like it. If he could make her feel that way with only his hands, what would it be like to have him laying on top of her? Kissing her, their naked bodies entwined . . .
Blinkin
g, she didn’t know what she had been imagining. Those erotic thoughts were like something straight out of a romance novel and as far as she could tell, this had nothing to do with romance. She wasn’t exactly sure what this was. It was too confusing and emotional. At least on her end. Who knew what Nikolas was thinking? If anything. The bastard.
Giving herself a mental shake, she realized she couldn’t let him see how much he was affecting her. If she did, he would descend on her like a wolf, ripping away everything she had left. And damn if he wouldn’t enjoy doing it. No, the only way to get through this was to remain as calm and cool as possible. If she didn’t, she would never be able to face him.
Determined he would not see an ounce of emotion on her face, she ran her hands over her hair, smoothing the strands before looking at him.
“Where are we?” To her own ears, her voice came out cold and strong. She just hoped it sounded the same way to him.
She needn’t have worried. He wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were focused straight ahead. “We’re at the pier. Our boat’s here but we have trouble.”
More trouble? Hadn’t there been enough of that already?
Straightening in her seat, she leaned closer to the glass, trying to see what lay beyond the car. Through the windshield, she could see the outline of a sizable white boat sitting patiently at the end of a wooden dock. Loose, pale fog drifted along the ground and the water’s edge, lending a mysterious feel to the scene. Like it was really necessary. Things were already crazy enough without the added benefit of a Halloween-like fog.
“What is it?” she asked, automatically dropping her voice as if someone outside might hear her.
Nikolas’s voice was, of course, the same. Steady and in control. “This boat was supposed to be empty. We were going to be the only passengers. But it seems as though we have a few guests.”
Cadence’s breath caught. “Are they Dmitry’s men?”
“I don’t think so but he’s got so many people in his pocket, it’s hard to tell.”
“Why don’t you just whack them?” she asked.
He looked at her then. His lips curled in grim amusement. “Whack them?”
“Sure,” she answered with a shrug. “Whack, ice, murder. After all, isn’t that what you do?”
Nikolas snorted in disgust. “Regardless of what you might think, I don’t just go around ‘whacking’ people.”
“Really? Because so far you’ve killed everyone you’ve come in contact with.”
“I haven’t killed you yet.”
She met his stare, her blue eyes connecting solidly with his black ones. She felt her heart start to pound all over again but she was not about to lose ground this time. “No, you’ve done worse.”
“It’s funny. I didn’t hear you complaining back there.”
Cadence opened her mouth to protest only to shut it again. God, he made her so furious she just wanted to hit him! Crossing her arms over her chest to prevent herself from actually doing it, she turned her head and looked out the windshield instead.
He was such an egotistical jerk. Why in the world did she ever think she wanted to get to know this guy?
But as she sat there fuming, she realized he was right. She hadn’t complained. She hadn’t even tried to stop him from touching her. And once he’d put his hands on her, she hadn’t wanted him to stop. How fucked up was that?
“Don’t worry, Cadence, I won’t touch you again,” he replied as if reading her mind. “At least not until you ask me to.”
She didn’t have to look at him to know he wore a shit-eating grin. She could hear it in his voice. Gritting her teeth, she continued to look straight ahead. “You won’t have to worry about that,” she said, putting as much venom in her voice as she could muster. She had no intention of asking him for a damn thing. And certainly not to touch her again.
A light cut through the fog, drawing her attention. Temporarily ignoring the asshole beside her, she leaned closer, trying to see what was happening. A door was opening on the lower deck of the boat and as she watched, the figure of a man came into view. Stopping at the bow, he struck a match and brought it to the cigarette he held between his lips. She saw a flash of blue eyes before he tossed the used match overboard. Four short puffs of smoke escaped from his mouth, one right after the other, each one in the perfect shape of a ring and each one whiter than the drifting fog.
“That’s the signal.” Leaping silently from the car, he was on her side in a flash. He opened the door expectantly.
She hesitated. The last thing she wanted to do was get on the ship with him. Like she had a choice. “But what about those other guys?”
“Don’t worry about it. The captain wouldn’t have lit his cigarette if he thought they were going to be a real problem. Now come on, we have to hurry.” Grabbing her hand, he pulled her out of the car.
“Wait!” she exclaimed. “I can’t go up there like this.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t have any pants on, remember?” she asked, stressing the last word. Surely he hadn’t forgotten because she sure as hell hadn’t.
Nikolas looked at her, a slow, lazy grin slipping into place. “Trust me, I remember.”
Struggling against the urge to knock the shit out of him, she stepped out of the car, yanking down the shirt as far she could. “Asshole,” she hissed, wishing she could manage to wound him. Just once.
“I’ve been called worse. Now move,” he ordered.
Biting down on the ridiculous amount of dirty words coming to mind, she followed him to the boat. Her toes sank into the cool, damp soil as she walked. It had been a long time since she’d had dirt squishing between her toes. It was kind of fun. Too bad the rest of her trip so far had not been.
The fog was denser than she’d thought and as she walked, it wrapped itself around her legs, chilling them. Feeling the goosebumps rise on her skin, she shivered and wished she had kept the pants on no matter how smelly they had been. If she had, she would stink but at least she wouldn’t be cold. Or ashamed.
Nope, not going to go there. Not going to do it.
Nikolas stepped onto the wooden dock and spun around to face her. Leaning close, she felt his warm breath in her ear. “When we get up here, don’t say anything. Not a word.”
“Why?”
“Because most people don’t trust strangers.”
“So? I don’t trust you and we’re still talking.”
“It’s just because you want me,” he retorted.
Cadence felt herself growing angry again.
The jerk was enjoying himself!
She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind but he was already climbing on board, pulling her behind him.
It was different than she had imagined. For one, she wasn’t prepared for the unhinged movement beneath her feet. She could feel the boat shifting in time with the soft waves lapping at the shoreline. It was unnerving and she wasn’t sure she liked it. Grasping the rail, she steadied herself with one hand while holding Nikolas’ tightly in the other.
Their captain approached them, his footsteps echoing on the deck. Puffs of cigarette smoke escaped, trailing behind him in thin, white clouds. It reminded her of a train’s smokestack. Nikolas’s hand tightened on hers for a brief moment and she looked up in time to see a flash of surprise on his handsome face.
Wait, did he know this guy?
Before she could consider it further, he dropped her hand, tossing it away as if her touch burned him. Stepping forward, he put some distance between them.
Not sure whether to be relieved or not, Cadence brought her hand up, clasping the locket tightly between her fingers.
Shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, she studied the stranger intently as Nikolas addressed him in perfect Russian.
; Standing roughly six-foot-three, she gauged him to be in his early thirties. He was dressed modestly. Black boots, black pants, and a gray T-shirt that revealed an impeccable set of muscles. Trimmed in a shaggy, military-style cut, his dark-brown hair covered a modest brow. He had a slim but handsome nose and the remainder of a cigarette dangled from a full, masculine mouth. But it was his eyes which drew her attention. They were bluer than the Texas sky and framed by eyelashes so black he could have been wearing mascara.
They swung her way and she felt herself recoil from the frostiness in them. Shooting daggers of ice, he only stared at her for a moment but it was not a moment she wanted to re-live. He was an extremely good-looking man but peering into his eyes, she couldn’t imagine him having a soul.
Shuddering inwardly, she turned her attention from both men and a conversation she couldn’t understand and glanced around the boat. In the corner behind her, she saw two lumpy sleeping bags laying on the deck. Deep snores issued from somewhere within the insulated depths of flannel material.
Must be the passengers Nikolas was talking about.
Craning her neck, she tried to see them better but she couldn’t make out more than a sprig of red hair protruding from one of the bags. From the other sleeping bag, someone farted. Long-winded and bubbly, it made her stomach clench in disgust. It sounded like a change of underwear might be in order.
She swiveled around in time to see Nikolas clap the captain on the shoulder, a grim smile on his lips.
“Let’s go,” he said, walking toward the center of the boat.
Glancing back, she saw the stranger watching her, the distrust written clearly on his handsome features. She looked away quickly and followed Nikolas with the uncomfortable awareness of the captain’s eyes on her backside. She might as well be completely naked instead of scantily clad in a T-shirt and panties. She felt as though she was.
