by Nic Saint
“That’s my Erik right there. Always the serious one. I don’t think we ever saw him smile, and rarely heard the sound of his voice. Of all my boys, he was the quiet one.” She eyed Jackie keenly. “Do you love my boy, Jackie?”
“Intensely, Mrs. Petrov,” she replied without missing a beat. The love that had bloomed during their sojourn had since only deepened. Erik wasn’t merely a man she knew she could trust with her life, a man who took things seriously, but he loved in the same way: profoundly, and unwavering. Once he’d declared his love, she knew that love would never die.
“Some men love many women,” Anna suddenly began. “Rob is like that. He’s had so many affairs you wouldn’t believe. But others, like Erik, only love once, and that love will last a lifetime. I’ve never seen Erik in love before, and for a long time I feared his heart would never open. But when I saw him looking at you, I knew. You have his heart now, Jackie. Take good care of it.”
“I will, Mrs. Petrov. He has mine,” she said simply.
“Anna, please.” The two women shared a look of understanding, then both took a sip, and Anna wandered to the window again. “This family is an odd one, Jackie, but I guess you know that by now. Mafia soldiers, enforcers, warriors, you name it. We’ve been called all of those names, and they’re all true. We Petrovs are a tough breed, united by one thing that makes us strong.” She turned to Jackie. “We share a unique bond. The bond of family. The bond of trust. We’re always there for one another, always ready to jump into the line of fire to help each other out. Whatever the circumstances.” She placed a loving arm on Jackie’s shoulder, then whispered, “Welcome to the family, honey. You’re a Petrov now.”
Jackie could do nothing but nod feebly, tears stinging in her eyes and closing up her throat. For the first time she felt she belonged. She’d found the family she’d been searching for all her life. Instead of answering, she merely allowed Anna to hug her close, and the warmth that spread through her to dissolve her.
She was finally home.
CHAPTER 30
Erik watched his father and brother fiddle with the new barbecue set, and thought he’d never seen a sadder display of ineptness and befuddlement.
His fingers hooked into the pockets of his jeans, he joined the bickering duo as they desperately tried to stem the cloud of black smoke. “Looks great, you guys,” he called out, rocking back on his heels. “When can I have my burger?”
“Oh, shut up,” grumbled his father.
Robert gave him a sad smile. “I fear we still don’t really have the hang of this thing. But we’re getting there. Slowly but surely we’re besting the beast.”
“Garage sale?” he inquired.
“BBQ-On-Line,” Rob informed him with a wink. “Dad’s finally discovered the advantages of internet shopping.”
“Lemme guess. More junk than you can find for more money than you can afford to lose?”
“Don’t just stand there gabbing, will you?” interrupted his father irritably. He thought the old man had gained even more gray hairs and grooves in his weathered face since the last time he’d been home. At fifty-five, Valery Petrov looked as stocky and fit as ever, and could probably still wrestle him to the ground in no time. Not that Erik would ever be so dumb. Valery liked to fight dirty, taking down his opponents any means possible. Though the old Russian seemed to have met his match in the barbecue set.
Erik eyed the contraption with a jaundiced eye, while he popped the top from a beer bottle he’d snatched from the cooler near the kitchen door.
“You know, there’s a vent for a reason, Dad,” he announced, pointing to the bright orange knob near the middle of the shaft.
“Vent?” his father growled. “What vent? What are you talking about?”
He stepped forward, and gave the knob a good yank, opening the vent all the way. “Thing can’t draw air if you don’t open the vent,” he grunted, then watched with satisfaction as the plume of smoke instantly lessened. Both his dad and brother stared at him as if he were the second coming of Santa Claus. “You should read the instructions. I bet it’s all there in the manual.”
“Listen to him!” cried Dad. “Barging in here like Mr. know it all, huh?” He walked up to him, bumping his chest against his, then suddenly his face split into a wide grin, and he slung his arms around his son for a crushing bear hug. “Come here! You haven’t even said hello to your old man!”
“Hello, Dad,” he ground out breathlessly, the air supply to his lungs cut off.
His father held him at arm’s length for a moment. “And I hear you’re getting married. Is she a nice girl? From a good family, yes?”
“Sure, Dad,” he said on an eyeroll. “As if you care about her family.” He grinned at his father’s frown. “She’s wonderful, Dad. Do you think I’d ever bring a girl home if I wasn’t crazy about her?”
“That’s all that matters,” his father agreed, then patted his cheek in a fatherly gesture of approval. He turned to Rob. “For a long time his mother and I feared this one would never find a woman.”
“I wondered about that myself more than a few times,” muttered Rob, earning himself a scowl from Erik. “I mean, look at that ugly mug. What kind of woman would ever want to stare at that face across the breakfast table for the rest of her life? Talk about your worst nightmare.”
Erik landed a jab to Rob’s ribs before his younger brother had the chance to duck, and then they were trying to get each other into a headlock, their father watching the scene unfold with a mild eye. “Boys,” he muttered affectionately. “Why did I ever father seven boys?”
Diana, who’d been playing with her German Shepherd, came trotting up, the dog happily yapping behind her. Panting, she stared at the barbecue, which was suddenly behaving. “What happened?”
Dad rolled his eyes. “Erik.”
Diana grinned, needing only the one word. If anyone could make a recalcitrant contraption behave, it was her brother. Though only one year older, he’d been as much of an older brother to her as Mike, and when Erik caught sight of her, he immediately stopped jostling Rob, and gave her a worried kiss on the brow. She looked pale, he thought. In Cancun, she’d been poised for action, but even then she’d looked out of sorts.
He eyed her with brotherly concern. “I heard about Jim. How are you holding up?”
He’d never liked James Murgatroyd, the lawyer she’d been dating, but had been too considerate to mention the fact. The man was slick to a degree, with that killer smile and polished appearance. Shifty-eyed, and probably hiding a lot of secrets behind that mask of easygoing friendliness. When he’d heard Murgatroyd had dumped Diana, opting to trade her in for some barracuda from his firm, he’d offered to pound him to a pulp. Diana had respectfully declined.
“I’m fine,” she said, not really wanting to discuss the matter with anyone except their mother. She was a tough young woman, and being dumped by the guy had hurt her pride as much as it had hurt her heart.
He nodded his understanding. “If you ever want to talk about it—or have his face kicked in—just give us a holler.” He and his brothers were fiercely protective of their sister. Not that she needed it, but that was how they rolled.
“Thanks,” she said with a weak smile, then decided to change the topic. She pointed to Jackie, who’d just appeared in the garden, Anna by her side. “I like your girl. She’s great.”
“The greatest,” he corrected, watching Jackie and feeling the familiar hitch in his heart, and tug in his pants. Even after spending every waking and sleeping hour with her, and making love each night as if it was the first time, he still couldn’t get enough of her. As she stood there, in a simple shirt and jeans, he couldn’t wait to take her home, get her out of those clothes and into his bed.
“You had us worried there for a moment,” Diana continued.
He turned to her. “Why?”
She grinned. “When Dad told us you’d fallen for a legal secretary, we were afraid you’d gone and lost your mind.” She gestured to Jackie. “But th
at ain’t no legal secretary, bro. That’s a bombshell.”
Now it was Erik’s turn to grin. “Thanks. I guess.”
He shared a hug with his sister, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, silently wishing that her heart would heal soon, and that she’d find a man who deserved her, would worship the ground she walked on, like he did with Jackie.
Then the door to the kitchen swung open, and Mike, Dave and Denis stepped out, followed by Alex and Laura, hands entwined and looking like only a couple of newlyweds could: radiant and happy. Soon he’d follow in his brother’s footsteps, and walk down the aisle, surrounded by his family and loved ones. He wished it was tomorrow.
“Let’s eat,” Diana said simply, and he gave her shoulder a squeeze. He knew how hard it was for her to have to watch her brothers find happiness, while she was struggling with heartache. Her time would come, he knew. It simply had to.
They walked back to the terrace, and he joined his future wife, the thought still giving him goosebumps. As he held her close, he had to pinch himself again, still having a hard time believing his good fortune.
“Your family’s wonderful,” she whispered into his ear.
“So are you,” he whispered back, and then he kissed her, braving the curious looks and catcalls of the rest of his family. It was the first time he’d ever been in love, and he didn’t care who knew it.
When finally they sat down for dinner, she slipped her hand into his, and he gazed into those beautiful eyes, shifting with the setting sun as it slanted low over the garden, casting its golden light. In her eyes, he saw the love he felt reflected, and knew they’d never be apart.
“I love you,” he mouthed, and was rewarded by her radiant smile.
“I love you, honey,” she murmured, and touched her hand to his cheek.
Their gazes locked and held, until a wet snout nuzzled his arm. Looking down, he saw it was Diana’s dog, trying to attract his attention to the delicious spread on the table. It was time to say grace, and share a meal with his family. The Petrovs, old and new, were united again, and all was well…at least for now.
RUSSIAN ENFORCER’S DANGEROUS GAME
Russian Enforcers 6 (Mike & Emily)
Nic Saint
CHAPTER 1
Hampered by the fact that she was an only child, Emily Fox had always found it difficult to make friends. So when the tall, dark, handsome stranger walked up to her in the bar, her first impulse was to tell him to take a hike. On second impulse she plastered a bright smile on her face, and accepted the offered drink. He was, after all, the target she’d been assigned to kill, and as everyone knows it’s much easier to kill a man when he’s all liquored up and hornier than a prize bull on stud day.
Benita’s Bar wasn’t much to look at, and definitely not a place Emily would have chosen to spend a Friday night. It was small and crowded, the acrid smells and faded cigarette commercials on the wood-paneled walls sad relics of pre-smoking-law days, its audience consisting mainly of urban professionals looking to get laid after putting in their usual sixty-hour work weeks.
Located in the heart of Midtown Manhattan, the dive bar was popular amongst the locals because of its owner, an ornery woman of undefinable age with an uncanny knack of putting any patron’s poison in their hands even before they’d made up their mind. It also helped that she was a good listener when the hour grew late, and her advice to the lovelorn came free of charge.
To her surprise, Emily quickly found herself in pleasant conversation with the stranger. Seated on a barstool by the window, she thought he was more taciturn than expected. Most guys who came to a place like this would have tried to run their hands up her leg by now, or slap a sloppy kiss on her. Not this guy. He kept his large hands to himself, the only part of his anatomy that was all over her his remarkable eyes, green as moss and hard to look away from.
“Do you work around here?”
She nodded, nursing her Jameson on the Rocks. “Barclays? I’m an analyst.”
“I guess that makes us neighbors.” He pointed to himself. “Chase. Bond sales manager.”
She knew, of course, that he was full of shit, but dutifully smiled. “That’s quite impressive, Mr…”
“Scott,” he offered. “Scott Speedman.”
“Like the actor?”
“Sure,” he riposted easily, clearly at a loss. “And you are…”
“Jackie Collins,” she decided, changing tack at the last minute.
“Like the writer?”
“Sure,” she returned, though she had no idea what he was talking about. She didn’t know why she’d wavered from her usual Tonya. It was highly unprofessional. Perhaps it was the drink, or maybe the fact that Scott Speedman had the greenest eyes she’d ever looked into. When they were fixed on her, as they were now, she felt strange stirrings in her gut.
And then there was the fact that the guy looked like a male underwear model, all handsome bronzed features, curly brown hair, and hard body beneath an exquisitely tailored suit.
To quiet an unusual nervous jitter, she took a sip from her drink. “So, Scott, what do you do for fun?” Unable to resist, she placed a hand on his arm and gave it a tiny squeeze.
“I work out a little,” he admitted as he stared down at her hand, intrigued.
“It’s important to stay in shape,” she agreed.
“You look pretty great yourself,” he commented, his eyes now unabashedly dipping down the cleavage of her dress and feasting on the creamy flesh that was on display there.
She’d opted for her sexiest little number, a black stretchy thing she’d picked specifically for this assignment. It accentuated her curvy figure, all hills and valleys in all the right places, and sported a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination, her ample breasts fully on display. It was her honeypot outfit, sure to entice any man, regardless of age or social status, and it was having just the right effect on Scott Speedman.
“Can I ask you an honest question, Scott?” she asked, staring deeply into his eyes. Christ, he was hot. In spite of the fact she was almost naked, she was burning up here, and it wasn’t from the alcohol, either.
“Shoot.”
“Do you moonlight as a male model?”
His brows shot up into his fringe. “Why? Should I?”
“Totally,” she told him, wondering about the huskiness in her voice. “Did anyone ever tell you you look like David Gandy?”
As her hand still rested on his arm, she allowed her eyes to wander, up the powerful column of his throat, along his jutting jawline and up to his lips. Kissable lips, she decided, as she watched them curve into a smile, delectable creases forming on his cheeks, his chiseled cheekbones momentarily entrancing her, casting their powerful spell. Then, finally, she found his eyes again, and saw amusement flickering there.
“David who?”
She touched her fingers to his chest and breathed a silent curse. This had never happened to her before. She was totally getting worked up about a target. As she felt his hard chest beneath her hand, she thought about the knife she would plant there soon, snuffing the life right out of him. The thought did much to sober her right up.
“Never mind,” she muttered, and gave him a slight smile. However gorgeous Scott Speedman might be, the man was bad news, or else she wouldn’t have been tasked with his assassination.
She snapped up her purse. “Do you mind if I call you David, Scott?”
“I don’t mind at all.” His eyes were still undressing her without restraint. It gave her that giddy feeling again, pleasantly flushed, incredibly horny. Too much booze, she told herself. She should never have gone for the whiskey. Even though she’d trained herself to hold her liquor, her head spun when she rose to her feet.
There was disappointment in his voice when he asked, “Going already?”
In response, she gave him her brightest smile, then held out her hand. “Wanna come?”
His grin flashed, quick and dangerous. “Sure thing. Where are we going?”<
br />
Those dimples were back, causing her stomach to clutch and her pussy to clench. She was sure she was wet already, images of his cock plunging between her folds suddenly making her giddy, those large hands kneading her breasts, squeezing her nipples, his lips on hers, his tongue plunging into her mouth…
She leaned in, and throatily replied, “To bed, David. I want you to fuck me.”
CHAPTER 2
Mike eyed the woman with surprise. He hadn’t planned on bedding her. Not that he didn’t want to. He’d studied her from afar, and it had taken him one look to decide she was the most gorgeous creature in the room, sex appeal oozing from her every pore. When she’d flicked those cornflower blue eyes at him, flipping that curtain of blond over her shoulder and flashing him a seductive grin, he’d felt his cock twitch at the thought of fucking her brains out right there, pressed up against the bar.
It was the fact that she was a target that gave him pause.
He was supposed to kill her, not have sex with her.
Then it occurred to him those two things weren’t mutually exclusive.
Since she would be dead before the night was over anyway, why not have a little fun first? He could always postpone the inevitable until he’d had her, and since she seemed so willing it made his task that much easier. He’d had the vague idea of following her home when she’d had enough to drink, then dragging her into an alley and shooting her in the head.
This way, he would get to have some fun with her before he killed her.
Feeling his cock grow hard as granite at the prospect of dipping into that lush body, he took his overcoat from the chair, and offered her his arm. She rewarded him by eagerly taking it, and pressing a soft boob against him. Christ, if this was all part of her ruse, it was definitely working.
“So where are you taking me?” she asked, leaning her lovely head against his shoulder as they stepped out onto the sidewalk into the chilly night.
