Grave Vengeance

by Lori Sjoberg

  By sheer force of will, he cleared thoughts of Gwen from his mind as he strode toward the small shed behind the cabin. He’d spotted it earlier that morning, but hadn’t had time to check it out. He used Gwen’s picks to open the padlock and then tugged the weathered door open. Inside, there was wood stacked against the far wall from floor to ceiling. Two fishing rods, a tackle box, and a bucket were stashed in the corner by the door, along with an axe and a small assortment of tools.

  The nearby lake hadn’t frozen over yet. If it stayed that way for a while longer, he’d put the fishing gear to use. His mouth watered at the prospect. He’d skipped breakfast in his rush to leave the cabin without waking Gwen. Not that he wanted another damn apple, but it certainly beat going hungry.

  First things first. He scooped up an armful of wood and closed the door with his boot. Once he ensured his Gwenya was warm, he’d focus on satisfying his appetite.

  Gwen woke to the sound of a crackling fire and no sign of Dmitri.

  Daylight filtered through the curtains and brightened the room. After rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she checked out her surroundings and wondered where Dmitri had gone. She strained to listen for signs of his presence, but heard nothing except the crackle of the fire.

  With a yawn, she rolled onto her back and stretched. Weariness still dragged on her muscles, and the tips of her fingers felt a little tingly, but she felt a world better than she had the day before. She had Dmitri to thank for that. If not for him, she’d be facedown in the snow. Or worse, Edwin might have found her, alone and defenseless.

  She grabbed her clothes and dressed under the warmth of the blankets before getting up off the floor. Since her shoes were still soggy, she padded barefoot to the front window and pulled back the gauzy beige curtain. Outside, flurries fell from the sky, adding to the foot or more that already blanketed the ground. From where she stood, it looked so peaceful and picturesque it almost made her forget about freezing the day before.

  Turning away, she padded to the kitchen and rifled through the cabinets above the stove. There wasn’t much in the way of supplies. A half dozen cans of condensed chicken noodle soup and two boxes of granola bars. One five-pound bag of brown rice, a bottle of olive oil that was almost empty, a small selection of spices, and a half-full jar of instant coffee. But she also found an unopened box of chocolate Pop-Tarts, and her stomach grumbled at the sight.

  The front door opened and Dmitri appeared, carrying a bundle of split wood. He was dressed in his jeans and long-sleeve shirt, and the tips of his ears and nose were red from the cold. The black frame of stubble around his mouth made his lips seem more vivid than usual. His scowl vanished the instant his deep blue eyes met hers.

  “How are you feeling?” He spoke with a genuine concern in his voice that touched her deep inside.

  “Better. Tired. You?”

  “About the same.” His eyes softened, filled with emotions she couldn’t quite identify. He turned his head to the side and coughed before setting the wood by the fireplace. Hands free, he brushed the snow from his hair. “I found the main breaker for the power this morning. The electricity should be working now.”

  “Oh, that’s great!” She flipped the nearby switch and the kitchen lights flickered to life. “Does this place come with a heater?” So far, she hadn’t seen a thermostat, but maybe she’d just missed it.

  Dmitri shook his head. “No, but there’s plenty of wood in the shed out back.” He gestured toward the open cabinet door. “Find anything good in there?”

  “Not much, but it’s better than nothing.” Stomach gurgling, she held out the box of Pop-Tarts. “Ever had these?”

  “No, what are they?”

  She smiled. “Oh, you’re going to love them.” She tore open the top flap and tossed him one of the foil packets before grabbing one for herself.

  After tearing the foil, Dmitri held the pastry up to his nose and sniffed. “Junk food?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Just try it.”

  With obvious reluctance, he bit into the pastry. His expression remained unchanged while he chewed and swallowed.

  “Well, what do you think?” she asked before biting into her own.

  “It’s very … sweet.” He took another bite, which told her that he didn’t totally hate it. “Not what I’m accustomed to eating first thing in the morning.”

  No, from what she’d seen he was the kind of guy who washed down a pound of bacon with a gallon of coffee, two sugars, no cream.

  “Sorry I don’t have anything healthier for breakfast, but I figured this was better than apples.”

  “At this point, anything would be better than apples.” His lips curved up in a smile that melted her insides. “This is good, Gwen. Thank you.”

  Averting her gaze, she finished her breakfast and tossed the wrapper in the tiny trash can near the sink. “How is it outside?”

  “Cold. Miserable.” Dmitri rubbed the back of his neck. “It hasn’t stopped snowing since yesterday, and there could be another foot on the ground by tomorrow morning.”

  Which meant they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. Good thing he’d brought in an extra load of wood for the fireplace.

  “Any chance this place has a hot water heater?” she asked.

  Dmitri nodded. “I haven’t turned it on yet. Once I do, it’ll take a few hours before the water’s hot enough to use.”

  She’d kill for a shower and a clean change of clothes. After so many days without either, she felt grungy and disgusting. Her deodorant had crapped out a long time ago, and she didn’t even want to think about what her hair looked like.

  Dmitri swallowed the last bite of his pastry and handed her the wrapper. “I better check the pipes to make sure they haven’t frozen. Don’t turn anything on until I give the all clear.”

  “I can help.”

  He shook his head. “No, stay here and sit by the fire.”

  Yeah, like that was going to happen. The last thing she needed was an overprotective Russian treating her like she was fragile. “Relax, Red. I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.” Anger heated his eyes. “You were barely breathing when I brought you here.” He bridged the distance between them, so close she could see the pulse pounding in his throat. Beyond the anger, she found something else in his eyes. Concern? No, something deeper, more dangerous. “You scared the shit out of me. Don’t ever do that again.”

  Gwen swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. It touched her to know he worried about her welfare. “I didn’t know you cared,” she said, the words coming out just above a whisper.

  “Neither did I.” And he didn’t look happy about it. Before she could say anything, he cupped the nape of her neck, drawing her closer, and crushed her lips beneath his.

  The kiss was nothing playful. He devoured her mouth with a passion and intensity that turned her bones to jelly. He tasted like the chocolate pastry he’d been eating and his own intoxicating flavor. Every thought in her head evaporated, while a rush of heat flashed between her legs.

  A low growl rumbled in his throat right before he took the kiss deeper, darker. His tongue swept inside her mouth and did amazing things, and she couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel in other places. A hot, heavy ache pulsed in her core, right along with a throbbing desire to be filled. She wanted more. Wanted him. She kissed him back just as passionately, running her hands over his shoulders and into his thick black hair.

  But instead of more, he tore his mouth away, gasping for air, his chest heaving with each labored inhale. Eyes wide, he touched a hand to his mouth as if stunned by his own actions.

  Seconds ticked by while he watched her, as if trying to decide what to say. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then turned away and stalked out the door.

  The drilling beak of a woodpecker filled the morning air as Dmitri stood by the lake. It was freezing outside, and he fought back a shudder, refusing to give in to the elements until he’d finally caught something to eat. He held t
he fishing rod perfectly still, hoping for a nibble on the line. An hour and a half had already passed, and he was well past the point of impatient. As he waited, his mind wandered, eventually fixating on what happened with Gwen.

  What the fuck was he thinking, kissing her like that?

  He hadn’t been thinking, and that was the problem. In a moment of weakness, he’d acted on instinct, and if he hadn’t come to his senses, God only knew how things would have progressed.

  A few scenarios sprang to mind, and every muscle in his body tightened. He took a deep breath and pushed it out slowly, willing his body to relax.

  It wasn’t the physical attraction that frightened him. What scared him was the emotional connection that grew stronger with each passing day. The last woman he’d felt this intensely about was Elena, and look how badly that ended. Only a masochist would go back for seconds.

  And yet, a part of him clung to the memory of how Gwen had responded to his kiss. That little whimper, her fingers in his hair, and he’d only tapped the surface of her passion. He could only imagine how she’d act if he got her naked, her body damp with sweat from exertion.

  No. He wasn’t ready to take that kind of chance again, and he doubted he ever would be. The risk far outweighed the reward. Elena’s betrayal had resulted in the loss of his humanity. Another would shatter his soul.

  A tug on the line provided a welcome distraction. At last, something had taken the bait. He kept the line tight as he slowly reeled it in. When the fish got close enough, he jerked it out of the water and set it on the snow-covered shoreline.

  Brown and spotted, the fish was probably some kind of trout. From tip to tail, it measured a little over a foot, large enough to feed them both. He removed the hook, killed and cleaned the fish, set it in the bucket, and packed it with fresh snow.

  Should he try for another? The thought of more time in the cold sent a shiver across his back. Temperatures were dropping again, while the snow had increased in volume. Like it or not, he needed to return to the cabin. Sooner or later, he’d have to deal with Gwen, so he might as well get it over with. He’d simply apologize for acting inappropriately and promise never to let it happen again.

  The question was, would she believe him or see straight through his bullshit? There was only one way to find out. With steel in his spine and lead in his gut, he collected his gear and started toward the cabin.

  Chapter 15

  Almost two hours had passed and still no sign of Dmitri. In that time, Gwen checked the pipes, turned on the hot water heater, washed her dirty clothes in the bathtub, and laid them out by the fireplace to dry.

  Restless and edgy, she ignored the butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she peered out the cabin’s front window. Nothing. Not a sign of the man who’d kissed her with such a ravenous intensity it made her toes curl against the floor.

  She’d been thinking about that kiss ever since he’d stormed out of the cabin. The feel of his lips, the stroke of his tongue. Without a doubt, the man had an incredible mouth and damn well knew how to use it. Beneath the stony exterior was the heart of a passionate man. And now that she’d sampled that passion, she wanted a whole lot more.

  Even though it was only a little past noon, the dense cloud cover made it look like dusk. The snow had picked up, cutting visibility to a few hundred feet. Where did he go? Was he all right?

  Nightmare scenarios crept into her mind. What if he got hurt and couldn’t move? Were there wolves or bears in this part of the country? She honestly had no idea. Granted, Dmitri was a dangerous man, but even with his Glock, he could only do so much against a pack of hungry carnivores.

  Her thoughts drifted to Edwin Pierce, and for some strange reason, he didn’t worry her as much as the wolves. After all, Dmitri was skilled at hunting humans, and he wouldn’t think twice about plugging the asshole. Then again, if Pierce came with reinforcements, Dmitri would be at a disadvantage.

  Her breath caught at the sight of a hazy figure in the distance. Whatever it was, it looked big, and it appeared to be advancing toward the cabin. She squinted, trying to see better. Through the haze, she made out the form of a man, but couldn’t tell if it was Dmitri or Pierce. In case it was Pierce, she grabbed the shotgun Dmitri had left by the door and racked a round in the chamber.

  Time stretched as the person drew closer. Gwen chewed on her lower lip, her eyes straining to pull the figure into focus. Closer. Closer. Her grip on the gun tightened as her nerves began to fray. At last, the person came close enough for her to get a good look, and her tense shoulders sagged with relief.

  Dmitri. A fishing rod was slung over his right shoulder, while a bucket swung from his left hand. His body language was relaxed, and he walked with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

  She waited until he got closer before opening the door, and when she did, the cold blasted right through her. “Where have you been?”

  His nose, cheeks, and the tips of his ears were beet red. He glanced at the fishing rod. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Smart-ass.” Relief gave way to anger as she set the shotgun aside. “You could have told me where you went. I was worried.”

  He scoffed as he climbed the steps to the front porch and leaned the pole against the wall by the door. “You worry too much. I can handle myself.”

  “Of course you can,” she snapped. Blocking the doorway, she cocked a hand on her hip and glared at him. “But what if Pierce and his buddies had found the cabin while you were out communing with nature?”

  That wiped the smile off his mouth. “I wasn’t far.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You left me. Alone. And you didn’t even tell me where you were going or when you’d be back.” Throwing up her hands in exasperation, she turned on her heel and stormed back inside.

  The door clicked shut a few seconds later, and the sound of his boots echoed against the wood floor. Refusing to look back at him, she busied herself rearranging the food in the pantry. She hadn’t meant to snap, but dammit, his casual attitude infuriated her. Had what happened between them meant so little to him? She didn’t think so, but he was so damn good at disguising his emotions it was hard to tell for sure.

  Gwen sensed his presence directly behind her; close, but not quite touching.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you.” He set the bucket filled with snow on top of the counter and moved to the sink to wash his hands. “I caught a fish,” he said, and for once, his deep voice sounded awkward.

  In spite of her anger, a part of her softened. She turned to face him. “Why did you leave?”

  Dmitri lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug while he dried his hands with a dishtowel. “I don’t know.”

  “Sure you do.” She raised her gaze, taking in every inch of him until their eyes finally met. “Why did you leave?”

  “I—” He hesitated, as if collecting his thoughts, his fingers rubbing the back of his neck. “I made a mistake.”

  “A mistake?” He couldn’t be serious.

  “Yes. A mistake.” His posture straightened, his shoulders pushed back. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. It was … inappropriate.”

  “Inappropriate my ass. I liked it.”

  “Christ, don’t say shit like that.” He dragged a hand through his hair, his gaze bouncing about the room but never settling on anything for long.

  She reached out and touched his arm. Tension coiled in his muscles, as if it were taking every ounce of his self-control to keep himself in check. His eyes darkened when she wet her lips, and her mouth went completely dry. “Dmitri, I—”

  “Don’t. Just … don’t.” Breaking the connection, he backed away like her touch scalded his skin.

  “Dammit, why not? Deny it all you want, but I know you feel it too.”

  He shook his head, his gaze smoldering as he stared down at her. “I can’t do this, Gwen. It’s not right.”

  “Why, because of our past? That’s bullshit and you know it. I’m not the same person I was back then, and n
either are you.” She stepped toward him, and this time he didn’t back away. Lightly, she pressed her hands against his chest, his skin hot beneath her fingertips. His heart thudded beneath her open palm, and damn if that didn’t turn her on. She inhaled, and the scent of him invaded her senses, so dark, and musky, and inherently male.

  Steeling her courage, she laid it all on the line. “God help me, but I want you, Dmitri. Don’t ask me to explain it, because I can’t, but I also can’t change the way I feel.”

  Teeth gritted, he cursed under his breath. The tremor in his voice caught her off guard when he said, “Gwenya. Please.”

  Rising onto her tiptoes, Gwen touched a hand to the side of his face. He hadn’t shaved since they left Virginia, and his jaw was bristly with stubble. She brushed her thumb against his cheek, and his head bent slightly toward her touch.

  “Don’t you understand?” Her voice sounded rough to her own ears. “Every time I look at you, every time I hear your voice, every time you touch me … Jeez, fifty-three years as a reaper, and the only time I ever feel alive is when I’m around you. I didn’t realize what I’d been missing until now. And now that I know, I’ll be damned if I let it slip away.”

  Slowly, her hand moved from his cheek to the back of his neck. His eyes darkened, and he offered no resistance when she brought his head down to hers. This close, they shared the same air. She pressed her lips against his, and his big body shivered. The flare of heat, the spike in her blood, it was enough to make her a little dizzy.

  An anguished growl rumbled from deep in his chest when she nipped his bottom lip. After a second’s hesitation, he returned the kiss with a hunger that ripped the air from her lungs. His muscles bunched beneath her touch, like a jungle cat preparing to pounce. She groaned against his mouth, her legs growing weak right before he jerked away.