Stone Cold Angel (The Perfect Order Book 2)

by Amy Deason

  Climbing out of the stall, she padded herself with a towel, wincing as the fabric touched her.

  Maybe I should use some lotion.

  Pouring the thick liquid into her hand, she carefully ran her hands over legs.

  “Owww!” she screeched. The lotion was cold in her palm but it burned her irritated skin.

  Like putting fire ants on herself.

  Swiping the offending lotion from her skin, she wrapped the towel around her and strode into the stateroom intent on getting dressed.

  Nikolas was waiting for her. Dressed in a fresh pair of gray slacks, black dress shirt, and charcoal blazer, he looked the part of a distinguished gentleman. Or perhaps a classy hitman. He glanced at her, surprise widening his eyes.

  “What in the hell did you do to yourself?” Nikolas barked, taking a menacing step toward her.

  The look in his eyes made her take a step back. He looked furious. And dangerous. “What . . . What are you talking about?”

  “Your skin. It’s raw.”

  Cadence looked down at herself. Her skin was even redder against the white cotton. “I took a shower.”

  “With what? Acid? It looks like you scrubbed half of your skin off.”

  “So what if I did?” she retorted, lifting her chin. “It’s my body and I can do what I want to with it.” Although she sounded brave, inside, she was quaking hard enough to rattle her bones.

  “Yes, I guess it is,” he replied darkly.

  As she looked at him, his entire demeanor changed and she felt something inside of her shrivel up and die. His black eyes were so flat and cold they looked like death. And his mouth, the mouth he’d so expertly used on her only a short time ago, was drawn into a straight, expressionless line. The wall between them was back up, taller and stronger than ever. The old, familiar Nikolas was back.

  She noticed he was holding two Styrofoam cups. The smell of coffee filled the room, making her mouth water but she didn’t move to take it from him. And he didn’t offer. Instead, he crossed the room and set one cup on the table before turning to look back at her. Resting a hip against the edge of the table, he brought his cup up and sipped at it, watching her over the rim.

  The silence stretched between them, making her want to scream. Unable to look away, she cleared her throat and stepped close enough to retrieve the remaining cup. Coffee in hand, she retreated.

  “Thank you. For the coffee, I mean,” she said, her voice coming out in an annoying squeak. She wanted to kick herself for sounding so weak and unsure of herself. But she was unsure of herself. She was unsure of everything. This was something she’d never had to deal with before.

  More silence. His eyes continued to regard her calmly.

  The coffee was warm in her hand and its heat seeped into her chilled bones. She wanted to taste it but she remained frozen under his gaze.

  Why wasn’t he saying anything?

  “I . . . uh . . .” She swallowed painfully. “I’m sorry I slept so long.”

  “No worries. After all, you were up rather late.”

  The taunting quality in his voice made the blood flood her cheeks, burning them. Unable to hold his gaze, she dropped her eyes. She stared at her bare feet, wriggling her toes nervously.

  “Uh, yeah, I guess I was.” Her words came out low and mumbled.

  “And you’re talking again, I see.”

  Glancing at him through her lashes, she watched as he lifted his cup, taking another calculated sip.

  “Yes . . .”

  Where was he going with this?

  “I’m a little surprised.”

  She jerked her eyes up, meeting his. Her brow crinkled in confusion. “Why?”

  “Well, after all of the screaming you did last night, I assumed you were going to be hoarse this morning.”

  Oh Lord, could this get any more embarrassing?

  Gaping at him, she didn’t know what to say. He was obviously trying to get a reaction from her. Well, she wasn’t going to give him one. She’d given him more than enough already.

  “I especially enjoyed the way you screamed my name when—”

  “Stop!” She didn’t need him to remind her. Every part of last night was permanently burned into her brain. She doubted she would ever be able to remove it. Not without a lobotomy anyway.

  Nikolas tossed back the rest of his coffee and strolled across the room. Stepping close, he leaned forward, his black eyes zeroing in, locking her into place. He ran his finger down her arm, the light touch sending chills down her sensitized skin.

  “No matter how much you try, you’ll never wash me away, Cadence.” His breath was warm and smelled lightly of mint and coffee.

  She recoiled, backing away, and pulled the towel tighter around her body. “Stay away from me.” She had meant it be an order but even to her own ears, it sounded much more like a plea.

  The smirk on his face was ugly and cruel and it was one she’d hoped she would never have to see again. But there it was. Right on his devilishly handsome face. Her hand tightened around the cup and she resisted the urge to toss the burning coffee right into his face.

  He walked toward the door and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Thank God he was leaving.

  Stopping at the door, he turned to look at her and she felt her heart sink.

  Why can’t he just leave me alone? Hasn’t he done enough?

  Surely there was not much more he could do to hurt her.

  She was wrong.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to touch you again. I prefer a woman who knows what she’s doing in bed.”

  The blood drained from her face and it seemed as if the floor underneath her had just disappeared. She wished it had. At least that way she wouldn’t be standing here with him, dying inside and feeling completely worthless. Tears burned at her eyes but she’d be damned if she let him see her cry again.

  “You bastard,” she seethed, flinging the coffee at him. But it was too late. He’d already left. Her cup hit the door, sloshing the hot liquid everywhere.

  Chapter 16

  Nikolas climbed the short flight of steps to the top deck and looked up at the monastery looming against the pale blue sky, feeling like the biggest asshole in the world. The throb of remorse stabbed at him sharper than any knife that had ever sliced his skin. He really fucked up this time.

  Cadence had been a virgin. A fucking virgin!

  For the hundredth time since he left her side this morning, he asked himself the same question.

  How could he have not known?

  All of this time, he assumed her reactions were just because of her attraction to him, not because she was a virgin. How could he have misread things so badly?

  It was his own fault for being so cocky. But given his past experience with women, he’d had no reason to think otherwise.

  Thinking back over the last three days, he reconsidered every interaction with her. From the moment he’d gotten her out of The Chamber until just a few minutes ago. It was clear as day now.

  God, why hadn’t I seen it?

  The way she stared at him when she thought he wasn’t looking, the way she nervously kissed him back. Even the way she had sex. No wonder she had been so tight and receptive to his touch. Nobody had ever been there before.

  Until now.

  He wanted to kick himself. It shouldn’t have been this way. Her first time should have been special and sweet. An act of love. Nothing like what they’d shared in the stateroom below. And definitely not with someone like him.

  Running his fingers through his hair, he stared at his reflection in the lapping depths of the lake. A bastard. That’s what he saw looking back at him. A selfish, cold-hearted bastard. The same one he’d always been.

  But some
thing was different.

  For the first time in a long time, he hated himself. Really, truly despised the man, the monster, he was. With every horrible thing he’d ever done in his life, this had to be one of the worst. It was lower than low. Taking the one thing Cadence could never have back. And then acting like it was nothing. Like she was nothing.

  But he’d needed to eradicate any romantic thoughts she might have had after this morning. He and romantic didn’t go together. The sooner she realized it, the better.

  But there had been no reason for him to do it the way he did. He could have pushed her away without completely destroying her. Without attacking her sexuality and making her feel as though he hadn’t enjoyed every single moment with her. Which was far from the truth. He hadn’t been able to get enough of her. He feared he would never get enough and that scared the shit out of him. She scared the shit out of him.

  The last time he’d allowed someone to get close to him, she’d wound up dead. Burned alive by the men he’d been trying to stop. He’d seen it, heard it, and continued to live with it day after day. It was surely burnt on his soul just as the flames had burnt Jenika’s flesh from her body.

  He shuddered with the memory.

  But another terrifying thought began to form. He couldn’t stop it and the truth of it hit him over the head like a ton of bricks. He’d truly cared for Jenika. There was no doubt about it. But compared to what he was feeling now for the dark-haired, blue-eyed girl below deck, she may as well have been nothing.

  Cadence was like no one he’d ever known. Sweet, funny, caring, and brave. Everything she was called to him, completely unmanning him at every turn. She was throwing him for a loop. And now she hated him. He’d made sure of it. He had seen it in her eyes, heard it in her voice.

  Then why wasn’t he happy? It’s what he wanted. For her to hate him. As long as she did, she could turn her back on Russia. On him. It was the only way she could go on and have some semblance of a normal life. She deserved that much. And it was something he would never be able to give to her if she remained with him.

  “Where’s Kirill?”

  Forcing a bored smile he didn’t feel, he turned around, leaning back against the rail. The biting remark he’d been about to say died on his lips as soon as he saw her.

  Dressed in the flowing navy skirt and cream-hued blouse he’d laid out, her skin, still red from the shower, nearly glowed through the white material. But it was her eyes that made him hold his tongue. Red rimmed, they stared back at him, hate burning brightly in their sapphire depths. She’d been crying again. He felt the familiar punch to his stomach.

  Careful to keep the smile plastered on his face, he recovered quickly. “He’s taking care of a few things.”

  “What things?”

  “Nothing you need to know about.” His tone was sharper than he’d intended but he was having problems distancing himself from the emotions trying to crowd in on him. He prayed she didn’t notice.

  But she was no longer looking at him. Instead, she walked past him to the railing of the boat and gazed out over the side. Not taking his eyes from her, he already knew what she was seeing. The waters were deep, translucent blue and still, reflecting the green pine trees lining the shore. Further up, the monastery walls, crisp white and robin’s egg blue, rose above the coastline, reaching for the azure sky. It was a beautiful sight. But it was nothing compared to the one standing right in front of him.

  He was thankful she was not paying attention to him. It allowed him to admire the way the early morning sunlight fell on her hair, turning it to burnished mahogany beneath the white scarf she wore. A soft breeze blew around them and he watched as the long, dark tresses danced over her shoulders.

  Her lips were formed in a small smile. For a moment, he was the furthest thing from her mind. He was sure of it.

  Filing her image to memory, he looked away, his jaw clenching painfully.

  “Let’s go.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The beauty of the island stole Cadence’s breath, making her forget everything. Everything but the man who stole her innocence only hours before.

  Stole? He couldn’t steal something when it’s handed to him on a silver platter. Or on satin sheets . . .

  “Let’s go,” Nikolas growled, dragging her back to the here and now.

  Reluctantly, she pulled her eyes from the magnificent white and blue tower rising from the surrounding trees and rocky shore. She refused to look at Nikolas as she followed him across the deck of the boat and down the ladder to the long, wooden dock below. She couldn’t look at him. It hurt too much and she didn’t want him to see how much he affected her.

  Losing her virginity was one thing, but losing it to him . . . It was just too painful to think about. Maybe if he cared about her at all, it wouldn’t be so bad. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t. To him, she was just another fuck. And not a good one. He’d said as much back in the stateroom.

  She was not self-absorbed enough to believe she was the first girl to ever feel this way.

  But she’d never thought she would be one of those types. To give up something so precious to someone that didn’t give a damn about her. It didn’t matter that she had been nearly out of her mind with self-loathing at the time. The fact was she still went through with it. Begged him for it.

  Hell, she’d practically thrown herself at him. And what man in his right mind, especially one as sexually experienced as Nikolas, would back away from a woman tossing herself at him?

  Shame riddled through her, poking tiny holes into her anger. Damn, she wanted to be angry with him. She wanted to blame everything on him. Her getting captured, getting shot at, losing her virginity, everything. But logic prevented the blame resting solely on his perfect shoulders. Most of this was her own doing but knowing it only made her angrier. At him, at herself, at everything.

  Stomping her feet as she walked made her feel better but all she really wanted to do was scream. And hit something. Or someone. But Nikolas probably wouldn’t take too kindly to being hit. He might actually hit her back if she tried.

  If she could just keep to herself a little while longer, she might come out of this mostly unscarred. And then she could move on. But first she had to get away from him. Which hopefully would be within the next few hours.

  As far as she understood it, they were going to the monastery to see if anyone remembered her dad. If they did, perhaps they held the key to this whole mess. Then Nikolas could get what he wanted and he finally would let her go. A mixture of relief and sadness draped over her at the thought.

  She desperately wanted to be away from Nikolas but at the same time, she didn’t.

  Crazy, that’s what I am. Absolutely bonkers.

  Trailing Nikolas, they reached a small chapel at the end of the dock, its red and white walls made entirely from brick. The snowy dome was topped with a golden cross and black-robed figures stood, waiting patiently, on either side of the entrance. Both men sported long, flowing beards, one the color of alabaster, the other sprinkled with salt and pepper. Long chains hung from their necks, each ending in an ornate silver cross.

  Stepping up to the older of the two men, Nikolas issued a short nod of welcome. “My zdes’, chtoby uvidet’ yepiskop Vasilevskiy.”

  The dark eyes of the monk narrowed suspiciously.

  Cadence’s brow creased as she watched the two men. What had Nikolas said?

  Not intimidated in the least, Nikolas spoke again. “Ya Nikolay Kozlov i eto Cadence Montgomeri.”

  The only part she understood was Nikolas’s last name and her own. The rest sounded like gibberish but a look of comprehension crossed the monk’s weathered face. “Akh.”

  Gesturing with his arm, he pointed toward a winding path disappearing into the trees.

  “Spasibo,” Nikolas murmured before turning his
attention back to her. Switching to English, he gave her a grim smile. “In case you were wondering, I told him we were here to see Bishop Vasilevsky. Now come on. We have to walk.”

  Ignoring his outstretched hand, she defiantly crossed her arms and strode past him without looking back, her sandaled feet slapping the rocky surface. Her actions probably appeared strange to the monks but she didn’t care. She just wanted to be done with this whole insane mess. She wanted to go home and forget about Nikolas Kozlov.

  Liar . . .

  No, she thought, don’t fall into that sorrowful trap. Stay mad at him. It was better to be angry than sad. It didn’t hurt as much.

  The source of her ire fell into step with her but wisely kept his mouth shut as they walked under the canopy of trees. Their leafy arms stretched over them, allowing the sun to sprinkle through and dapple the unsurfaced track. Spots of vibrant color, blue, purple, white, and pink, dotted the fresh grass and from their hidden perches within the trees, birds chirped and sang.

  Combined with the scenery, it was a beautiful, relaxing sound and any other time, she might have become swept up in the romance of the place. But with her thoughts solely focused on Nikolas and her mounting anger toward him and herself, she was unable to enjoy the surroundings. Romance was dead to her. At least for now. Nikolas had annihilated it when he said she was lousy in bed and treated her like she was nothing.

  What right did he have to judge her anyway?

  By his own confession, he had done any number of things most people would look down upon. And yet here he was, making her feel crummy just because she didn’t know anything about sex. And really, what had he expected? She’d never made love before.

  No, not made love. It had been sex. Nothing more, nothing less. A good ol’ ‘wham bam, thank you, ma’am’ fuck. And it had been good. Incredible actually. Well as far as she could tell. After all she didn’t have anything to compare it to. But she had a sneaking suspicion that even if she did have some previous sexual encounter, it would have paled next to Nikolas’s earth-shattering skills. She just couldn’t see it getting any better than that. So where did that leave her as far as future lovers?