Russian Enforcers Box Set 2 (Books 4-6)

by Nic Saint

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  RUSSIAN ENFORCER’S RESISTANT RESCUE

  College student Laura Armstrong works as a showgirl in a bid to cover tuition. When she’s selected to audition for a bigger part, she jumps at the chance. Little does she know her boss is a well-known mobster… and lecher. Luckily, just when things start looking grim, husky hunk Alex Petrov is there to protect her. But then a struggle ensues, the mobster makes a bad fall… and dies.

  When Alex decided to step in and protect one of the girls from his frisky boss, he never expected to find himself with a dead body on his hands. Considering the dead guy is none other than Don Gornakov’s favorite cousin, he sees no other way than to take Laura under his wing, and spirit her away to safety. Soon the enforcer is running from the Mob, and his own surprise attraction to his beautiful young charge.

  18+ only

  TO DEFY A RUSSIAN BILLIONAIRE

  When Julia Stern is offered an exclusive interview with Russian billionaire Yulian Gornakov, she jumps at the chance. Probing deeply into the young oligarch’s life and suspected ties with the Russian Mob, however, she incurs the wrath of the man, and soon finds herself out of a job, her promising career in ruins.

  Yulian, enjoying a long overdue vacation aboard a cruise liner sailing the Caribbean, never expected to bump into the same pesky reporter against whom he filed a restraining order. This time, however, he finds it impossible to get rid of her, or the sudden soaring passion she provokes in him.

  RUSSIAN ENFORCER’S BURNING OBSESSION

  Jackie Bouchard is enjoying the vacation of a lifetime in sunny Cancun with her best friend and colleague. The two secretaries won the company sweepstake: two weeks at the finest five-star hotel. And she’s just decided life is perfect, when she has a run-in with what must be the rudest man in the resort. The same darkly attractive male who’s been offering her drinks at the bar, and has been staring at her from day one.

  Erik Petrov isn’t in Mexico for sun and fun. He’s here to do a job that requires his very particular skill set and all his focus. Too bad that he’s been having a hard time focusing on anything other than the gorgeous young woman strutting her stuff around the pool. So when they finally meet face to face, it is all he can do not to throw her over his shoulder and take her up to his room.

  Erik isn’t the only one who’s noticed Jackie’s exceptional beauty. When she attracts the attention of a gang of local thugs, they come after her. Now the only person she can turn to is the burly Russian enforcer who’s not afraid to use any means necessary to get her to safety…and into his bed.

  18+ only

  RUSSIAN ENFORCER’S DANGEROUS GAME

  When Emily Fox, contract killer for a notorious crime family, is tasked to take down a target, she didn’t expect to find Mike Petrov at the receiving end of her stiletto. Nor did she expect him to send her pulse racing and her core clenching at the mere sight of him.

  Mike wants out. He’s been a loyal Mafia soldier for years, and he’s had enough. Emily Fox will be his last hit. It comes as a shock to him when he discovers Emily is the hottest little number he’s ever laid eyes on…and she’s dying to plunge her stiletto into his heart.

  Now the two killers are pitted against each other, wondering who will draw first blood…or give in to the temptation of one last night of hot passion.

  18+ only

  RUSSIAN ENFORCER’S RESISTANT RESCUE

  Russian Enforcers 4 (Alex & Laura)

  Nic Saint

  CHAPTER 1

  “I don’t like this, Alex,” Laura stated with a pout. “I forgot my curlers at home, my new makeup set wasn’t in the mail this morning, and I managed to fry the battery on my epilator.” She flapped her arms. “And the thing was supposed to be waterproof. It said so on the box!”

  She checked her look in the vanity mirror and wasn’t amused. She liked to have her straight red strands curled before a show, her pale face powdered, and those dustings of freckles carefully hidden beneath a thick layer of foundation. “I look terrible,” she sighed. “Boris will never offer me the job.”

  “You look fine,” Alex assured her.

  The hulking male was leaning against the doorjamb of the dressing room, his muscular arms folded across his bulging chest, his eyes scanning her until she felt a little self-conscious under his scrutiny.

  “Don’t lie to me, Alex.”

  “I’m not. You look fine.”

  “Fine,” she grumbled, then stuck her index finger in her mouth, and popped it out.

  She noticed he was frowning. “Why do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “That. With the finger. I’ve seen all you girls do that.”

  Blotting some of the excess lipstick from her lips with a tissue, she said, “Prevents lipstick from sticking to your teeth. Why? Are you going to start wearing lipstick now?” She eyed the hunky male from beneath thick lashes. “I wouldn’t do it if I were you, Alex. Lipstick definitely doesn’t become you.”

  He didn’t smile, but then he rarely did. Just looked at her with those remarkable green eyes of his. A deep green, they were, and a girl could easily drown in those eyes. Not that she ever would. He wasn’t hers to get hooked up with. Alex Petrov was spoken for, all the girls knew that. And if they didn’t, Darlene made damned sure they did. And since Laura wasn’t a confrontational kind of girl, she’d vowed a long time ago to steer clear of Darlene Harvey.

  Even though the woman didn’t actually own The Blue Moon, she often seemed to think she did. And if she didn’t like you, she could turn downright nasty. Then the claws came out. Or the fangs. Or both. She sometimes wondered what would happen if one of the girls tried to get her flirt on with Alex Petrov. Darlene would probably squash the poor goose like an annoying little bug. Squish.

  “Come on, babe,” Alex sighed. “You know Boris doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

  “All right, all right, keep your panties on,” she muttered, checking herself one last time. Then she turned to Alex, and cocked her head. “Second chance, and this time I want you to tell me the truth and nothing but the truth. How do I look?”

  There was an odd expression on his face as he scrutinized her intently.

  “That bad, huh?” she said, deflated. She bit her lip, ruining her lipstick in the process.

  Alex shook his head. “You look perfect, Laura.”

  Her face lit up with a smile. “Why, thank you. Coming from you that’s high praise indeed. I don’t believe one word, but I’ll still take it.” She grinned, hoping to elicit a glimmer of a smile from her enigmatic friend.

  Instead, he merely nodded curtly, then pushed himself from the doorframe in a fluid motion that showed economy of movement. He was a big man, but watching him move you would never know it. He walked with a gracefulness in his step that was a feast to the eye. As was the rest of him, of course.

  Some of the girls called him dangerous. They said Alex Petrov was a stone-cold killer, but she didn’t believe a word of that. Showgirls will talk trash. All she knew was that she never felt fear when she was around him. He’d always treated her with kindness and respect, and had never given her cause to be afraid.

  She followed him down the long corridor that led into the inner bowels of the club. Today was the day she would audition for a bigger part in the lineup, and she was adamant to nail it. Last time there’d been try-outs, Boris had picked Suzy Watts, one of Laura’s best friends. But then Suzy had gotten pregnant, and the club owner had announced her spot was up for grabs. With Suzy’s blessing, Laura figured she might just
as well try out.

  She was determined not to screw it up. She needed the pay increase. Badly.

  They arrived at the black door behind which Boris Sarnovsky held office. She took a deep, steadying breath, and turned to Alex. She didn’t know why, but suddenly found herself blurting out, “Will you wait for me?”

  He studied her for a moment, his face inscrutable. She felt her breathing grow shallow and her pulse quicken when he reached out a hand and brushed a straying lock of flaming red from her brow. “Yes. I will wait for you.”

  She swallowed away a lump of uneasiness. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t trip when you climb the stage.”

  She snorted. “Very funny. When have you ever known me to trip, huh? I’m a pro, buddy. We pros never stumble.”

  She watched the lift of his shoulders, his eyes still on hers, and thought she wouldn’t mind catching a glimpse of those rolling muscles in the flesh, without the obstacle of that black shirt. She’d once offered to give him a massage, only half joking, but then Darlene had walked in, and her cheeks had turned scarlet and she’d never mentioned it again.

  She took another steadying breath, determined to put all thought of Alex Petrov’s massive body and entrancing eyes from her mind.

  She had a performance to focus on.

  She couldn’t afford the distraction.

  Nor could she afford Darlene’s animosity.

  She placed her hand on Alex’s chest, enjoying the feel of that raw male power under her fingers. Even though the man was strictly off limits, she was still grateful he’d shown up on a Saturday morning to let her in. As a bouncer slash protector slash enforcer, he didn’t have to be here, yet when she’d hesitantly asked him if he could lend her some moral support, he had immediately agreed.

  She turned to face the black door. The owner of The Blue Moon had erected a private stage in his office, just for the purpose of these auditions. Once she was through that door, her fate was sealed, for better or worse. Boris would take one glance, then decide. No second chances. She either did this right or she failed miserably. And if she did fail, there would be no going back. He would pick any of the other girls, all as eager as she was to land this promotion.

  She felt Alex’s presence behind her. It did much to still her raging nerves, yet, still she couldn’t bring herself to open that infernal door.

  “Break a leg, Laura,” he softly intoned. She nodded, her stomach now a tangle of knots, her limbs so stiff she wondered if she would even be able to move a muscle in there.

  Alex must have sensed her trepidation, for he put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She turned her head and looked at him over her shoulder. He gave her a curt nod and one of his rare smiles. She smiled back, safe in the knowledge that he would be here when she came out, ready to catch her in case she’d fallen, and offer brief words of comfort, or celebrate her success by offering her his congratulations.

  Either way, in a mere five minutes, her fate would be sealed. That was all the time Mr. Sarnovsky ever granted the girls who came up for audition.

  She stared into Alex’s eyes, as if to draw strength from them, and the most astonishing thing happened. As she was looking into his eyes, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers, then whispered, “Good luck,” twisted the knob, pushed open the door, and gave her a gentle nudge.

  She was in.

  CHAPTER 2

  Laura stared at the man seated behind the desk, and the sight that met her eyes wasn’t one that induced her to relax.

  She’d seen the club owner, of course. Boris Sarnovsky was hardly a man to go unnoticed. He liked to put in an appearance each night, seated at the front table, scrutinizing his assets, as he liked to call the girls who worked for him.

  He never acknowledged them. Never came backstage. She didn’t think she’d even seen the color of his eyes, nor did she do so now, for they were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, even though the room was covered in darkness.

  He liked his ‘assets’ clean, so he didn’t allow drugs, and he liked them young; once you hit the age of twenty-four, you were out. Unless your name was Darlene Harvey, and you stayed on as manager, teaching the girls the moves that had put The Blue Moon on the Brooklyn map.

  Only men ever patronized the club, and some of the girls had developed a habit of taking them to one of the private rooms upstairs, where they could make some extra money, after Boris took his hefty cut.

  Laura had always refused to offer this extra ‘service’, even though she’d been asked on more than one occasion. This wasn’t what she’d signed up for, and even though she could have used the money, she most definitely didn’t want to go that route.

  Her studies had cost her a pretty penny, and now that she was entering her final year, she needed more cash than her uncle and aunt were capable of supplying. When her grades had dropped precipitously last semester, due to illness, she’d lost her scholarship, and the only money now coming in was the money she made. A job waiting tables had been a mainstay during her previous years, but she needed more than what she could make at Denny’s, so she’d gratefully accepted Suzy’s advice to apply for a job on the stage at The Blue Moon.

  Even though she’d quickly become quite popular amongst the patrons, she was never harassed or stalked, something she’d feared might happen if she worked as a glorified stripper. That’s where Alex came in. He made sure the men kept their hands to themselves, unless the girls agreed to a private encounter.

  She’d heard rumors that Boris didn’t like girls who said no to the customers, but she didn’t care. This was her choice and she was determined to stick to it.

  “Get on with it, Miss Armstrong,” the man behind the desk suddenly barked.

  “Yes, sir,” she breathed, tripping to the small stage.

  Boris was smoking a cigar, the fumes drifting to the ceiling. She wondered briefly what kinds of performances the man’s eyes had feasted on in here, but then dismissed the thought. She was quite desperate, and she would show him what she was made of. If she didn’t land the part, it wasn’t going to be for lack of trying. She’d worked her ass off at home in front of the mirror to nail this routine.

  She took a deep breath, and mounted the stage. For the occasion, she was wearing black leggings and a spaghetti strap tank top. She’d brought her iPod Nano and now attached it to the speaker set dock.

  Today, she was going to try out for the pole dance, and she regarded the shiny brass object with some trepidation. She’d come to think of it as both friend and foe. Friend, because it could bring in a ton of cash—money she could never otherwise earn. With some luck and hard work, the money would be turned into a master’s degree by the end of this academic year and signal the end of a very tough time in her life.

  But she also hated the pole, for the routine required her to display a lot more flesh than she was comfortable with. At home, she’d induced Uncle Hank to install a makeshift pole in the basement, though she always locked the door when she was practicing, not wanting her aunt or uncle to catch her at it.

  As the first strands of the pumping hip-hop music started, she assumed the position. Putting her hand on the pole, its smooth surface cool to the touch but quickly warming under her fingers, she allowed herself to slide to the floor, legs spread, eyes locked on the spectator from beneath long lashes in what she hoped was a gesture telegraphing both heat and seductive prowess.

  As she arched her back, she reared one arm over her head, then pushed herself up from the floor, one hand still on the pole, her body describing a perfect arc. Flinging one leg up, she draped it alongside the pole, then, taking a firm grip, the second leg followed the first, and now she was dangling upside down, her weight suspended from lean and strong legs.

  Good thing, she now thought, that her aunt had paid for all those ballet classes when she was ten. Curling her leg around the pole, she released her hands, dangling with seemingly effortless ease, arms spread, legs firmly clasped.

  Fro
m her vantage point, she could see Boris observing her, though to be honest, all she saw was the smoke rising, the man cloaked in obscurity.

  She raised her torso until she was perpendicular to the pole, then, in a quick flash of dexterity, placed her hands, released her legs, and flung them out, like a flag on a flagpole, her body weight now supported by her arms alone.

  Her long red tresses showered like a curtain of fire to the floor as she slowly started to gyrate, her hands quickly changing position, her legs straight as arrows, pointing away. It was a demanding routine, but quite spectacular, she hoped.

  Finally, she swung her legs up once again, then abruptly jumped clear of the pole, deftly landing on her feet, arms raised high, and took a graceful bow.

  If that didn’t nail it, the man was made of stone, she thought.

  CHAPTER 3

  Alex checked his watch. He had better things to do than to stand here waiting for Laura to finish her audition. For one thing, his girlfriend had warned him about being late for the meeting with her parents. He could still make it, but he’d have to hurry.

  He pondered Darlene’s face when he called her, announcing his delay. She would be seriously pissed. The girl was a knockout, to be sure, and when they entered the club together, all heads turned, the surge of pride a tremendous boost to his ego. But if she was going to be upset each time something came up, she was in for a world of hurt. For some reason, she was under the impression that if she kept at it, she would finally be able to make him adhere to her strict agenda. Yeah, right. As if that would ever happen.

  They’d met at the club, where she was a manager of sorts, and he a glorified bouncer. Muscle for Boris meant just that: taking any odd job that came along, whether it was restraining unruly customers, protecting the girls, or calming frayed nerves when they had to audition for a part.