by Nic Saint
“I’ll pass, Bogdan, if you don’t mind. I’ve been in this business too long already. Time to move on and get a life. A real life this time.” At these words, his eyes flicked to Joanna, and he added, “With a real family.”
Joanna’s spirits soared as he spoke those words, and though Bogdan’s face clouded, indicating his disappointment, he accepted defeat with admirable equanimity.
“All right, Vitaly. If that’s what you want, I wish you nothing but the best. Just know that there will always be a place for you on my team.”
Considering Bogdan’s team was a gang of cutthroats and other murderous scum, Joanna shivered. Then Bogdan’s phone chimed, and he excused himself before disappearing into his study once again. Never a dull moment in the life of a newly appointed crime boss, she thought, and watched him leave with an odd mixture of resentment and affection.
But then Vitaly reached out a hand, and asked, “Will you join me upstairs, my love?”
With a tremor of anticipation, she took it and inclined her head in acquiescence. “Lead on, my liege,” she murmured, and joined the man of her dreams as they both swept from the room, Ram trotting in their wake.
CHAPTER 29
“There’s nothing more to be said. Nothing more to do—nothing more to think about. From here on out, it’s just you and me. That is…” he hesitated, his voice suddenly revealing a vulnerability she hadn’t known was there. “If you’ll have me.” He flicked his eyes up and met hers in a look that crashed into her consciousness like a wrecking ball, tearing through whatever defenses remained.
She’d asked him if he still considered Bogdan’s offer, and his answer took away the last lingering doubts.
“I will never go back to the business of causing pain for a living, Joanna. I could not—not now that you are in my life.”
“Never again?”
“Never,” he promised, and she believed him.
They’d been leaning against the balustrade of the balcony that led out of their shared bedroom. The night air was cool and refreshing, soothing what nervousness she still harbored after the terrifying events of the evening. He now covered the hand that was poised on the parapet and entwined his fingers against hers. The gesture was reassuring yet intimate, and when his lips gently caressed the side of her neck, she cocked her head, and he brushed away the strands falling down her shoulders, nuzzling the tender skin beneath her ear, then briefly nibbling her earlobe, sending shivers of anticipation through her body.
It had been so long since she’d had him, since they’d had each other, that she wondered if their brief union in Yury’s garden had been a dream, a fantasy, or reality after all? She couldn’t imagine being with another man, and yet couldn’t imagine being with Vitaly either. Not after all that had happened.
But then he slipped his hands around her waist and trailed them down her hips, and an involuntary shudder had her roll her head back so that it rested on his shoulder, and then she felt the deep fear that still lodged in her chest relaxing bit by bit, swayed by the comfort of his touch.
“I’ll never be an enforcer again, Joanna. I’ll never go back to my old life. There’s no need.”
“No need?” she whispered, not comprehending.
“Tatyana and Yana have decided to grant me a severance package. It is quite… substantial.”
His hands now moved up along her belly, then higher still until they were cupping her mounds, testing the weight in his large hands. She felt heat stir inside her belly at his touch.
“Suffice it to say I will never have to work again. With this money, I can take you away from here, and we can start life afresh.”
She snaked her hands back, until she could rake her fingers through his hair, then down to his stubbly face, all the hard planes and angles right there under her fingers, and then his hands slowly moved up her shirt until she was but naked skin glistening in the moonlight, and his hands covered her rising peaks.
“Where do you want to go, my love?” he whispered against her ear.
“Europe,” she murmured. “Take me to Paris—London—Rome—anywhere but here.”
“Anywhere,” he murmured. “Anywhere you like.”
He whirled her around in his arms and easily lifted her blouse over her head, his eyes feasting on her curves. She was gorgeous, he knew, but had never thought she could grow ever more lovely as time went on. As he lowered his mouth to press a hot kiss on her puckered nip, he breathed, “We’ll go to Paris for our wedding, London for the reception, and Rome for our honeymoon.”
As his lips continued their exploration of her satin skin, she shivered, and not from the cold this time. He easily slid her jeans over her hips, and then he was devouring her center, the lovely petals at the heart of her enticing and inviting, glistening in the pale light of the moon, whispering their invitation.
“Oh, Vitaly,” she gasped as his tongue entered her and sent shivers of delight racing up her spine. She held onto him for balance as she swayed, her head light and her mood giddy now. Then the words he’d spoken came home to her. “Did you say… wedding?”
Glancing up at her, his lips wet and his smile irresistible, he spoke words she’d never expected any man ever to speak to her again.
“Joanna Royale, will you do me the honor of becoming my bride?”
She squealed with surprised delight, and when he reared up and swept her off her feet, she cried out, “Yes, I do!” And as he gently placed her on the bed and she watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, his torso a mass of rippling muscle and bulging hardness, she gasped once again at the wonder that was Vitaly. He made short shrift of his pants and then he was upon her once again, this time claiming her with a voracity that took her breath away.
And as he eased his hardness into her softness, invading her body with a passion that sent her shuddering against the bed, balling the quilt beneath her fingers, his mouth found hers, and they were drinking each other in once again, eager to make their reacquaintance, to take up where they had left off.
And then he was inside her, rolling deeply between her folds, splaying her soft tenderness with his thick girth, his heat melting and mending the deep urges of her flesh, and as she raked her fingernails along the hard ridges of his back, she briefly lingered on the scar he’d sustained protecting her from harm, and she knew she loved him like she’d never loved before, perhaps like no woman had ever loved any man before in the history of the world.
“My love,” she gasped as he stirred the depths of her body and her soul. “My beloved enforcer.”
He groaned as he arched his back, rearing deeper inside her with every motion of his rolling hips, her belly roiling, and then she was slammed into oblivion, her body cresting over into the highest peak and she laughed ecstatically, the joy exploding the last vestiges of doubt and fear and heartache from her mind. She was his, now. His forever.
And as he flooded her womb with the hot seed of his loins, she welcomed the life flowing into her core—their love creating new life in the heart of her sex—two bodies vibrating in unison and celebrating their love.
She clung to him, and he clung to her, and she knew he would never let go. Would never leave her—never abandon her—never cease to love her, and she felt hot tears flood her face as his hot seed flooded her womb.
As they lay together, whispering words of love, he stroked her hair from her brow, and smiled as she gazed up at him, eyes brimming with tears of joy. “Time to forget about the past, my love,” he murmured. “Time to start anew.”
“Time to start a family,” she whispered, and when he smiled and looked at her with so much affection, she knew love had finally come into her life. And all was well.
RUSSIAN ENFORCER’S VIRGIN CAPTIVE
Russian Enforcers 2 (Dimitri & Ariel)
Nic Saint
CHAPTER 1
“There’s nothing to be done now, Dimi. Whatever happened last night? It’s over.”
With a toss of her mane of golden hair, Ariel Cole je
rked away from the dark man who’d been scowling at her for the past fifteen minutes.
“I’m afraid that’s out of the question, darling,” he growled, menace written all over his face. “You made a promise. No going back now.”
She frowned. What was this horrible man talking about?
“I never made you any promises, Dimitri.”
Had she really been that drunk? She couldn’t recall much of the previous night. She knew she’d gone out with Suzy for a dance and a drink and some silly, harmless fun. Girlfriends together, unwinding after a long day at the office. As a junior attorney, she needed to let her hair down once in a while, the work more tedious than she’d imagined when applying for the position at Walter, Walters & Peterson. Waking up next to this husky male had been the first shock. His demands that she stay put, the second.
“You did make me a promise, Ariel. And nobody who makes promises to me ever breaks those promises.” His eyes blazed, searing into her soul. Dark and foreboding were but mild ways to describe this formidable male specimen.
She gritted her teeth and folded her arms across her chest. “Look, Dimitri, I don’t know what century you think this is, but women have rights in this day and age. And if I want to go home now, that’s exactly what will happen.” And with these words, she started toward the door of Dimitri’s hotel suite.
Surprisingly, he didn’t try and stop her. Words, she figured. Mere words from a man who was clearly enamored with her. It was cute, in a way, but she’d had cute, and what she wanted now were a shower and some breakfast. In her own apartment!
Stalking to the door, she snatched her purse from the chair where she’d left it the night before. It had taken her some hunting around to find her clothes. They’d been neatly placed in a pile next to the bed. Dimitri and she must have been on fire last night. Too bad she couldn’t remember any of the fireworks. She reached the door and placed her hand on the handle, giving her long blond tresses another toss across her shoulders.
To her surprise, the door handle didn’t budge. Frowning, she searched for the key. “Dimitri?” she called out. “Please unlock this door right now! Dimitri! Oh!”
She hadn’t heard him walking up behind her. For such a big guy, he tread softly.
She stared up at him, a small twinge of trepidation finally registering. He was tall and hulking, and as he stood before her, naked from the waist up, he looked like something chiseled in stone, all hard muscle and not an ounce of fat.
His bronzed face, all plains and ridges, betrayed no emotion, his eyes dark and unfathomable. She noticed several scars on his brow, touched by black curls only partly covering them, and wondered who this man was. She shivered under his intense scrutiny, feeling the power of his presence. Then he gripped her arm and gave it a tight squeeze. “I told you. A promise is a promise. You’re staying here.”
She tried to wrestle herself free, but to no avail. The man was strong. “Ouch! You’re hurting me!”
“If you stop wriggling and listen to me for a change, I won’t have to.”
She yanked again, and this time he released her. She planted her fists on her hips and cocked her head. “Hey, you big brute. Who do you think you are?”
An expression of pride crept up his stern features. “I’m Dimitri Loginovsky, and you would do well to remember that name.”
“Yeah? Why is that?”
For the first time, he displayed the hint of a smile. “For it is now your name as well.”
With these words, he gestured to a ring that adorned his hand. She frowned, his words not making any sense at first. Then, as its meaning became clear, her eyes lowered to her own hand, where a similar ring was placed on the fourth finger. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the wedding band, all yellow gold and sparkling diamond.
“Oh. My. God,” she muttered in a low voice, her eyes wide and her jaw dropping. “Oh, my fucking God!”
Dimitri frowned at this. “Please don’t refer to our holy union with that horrible term. My family doesn’t appreciate blasphemers.”
“Oh, my…” she whispered, still staring at the offending object. “You—you can’t be serious! Do you mean to tell me— Are you seriously implying—Dimitri, fuck!”
With a growl, he took hold of her arm again, this time to propel her across the room alongside him until they reached a small laptop placed on a side table. He tapped the space bar with his finger and then plunked her down on a chair. Before her appalled gaze, pictures of the wedding ceremony between herself and this Dimitri character started rolling on the screen.
“Oh, my fucking God,” she whimpered, her hands flying to her face, then to her hair and bunching her yellow strands until they stood on end. “This can’t be happening!”
“It has happened, so stop acting like a crazy person,” Dimitri said in a low voice as he stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder. “Now what will you have for breakfast, my darling? I would suggest something light.”
On the screen, scenes of a boisterous wedding rolled by, and she noticed how she looked absolutely plastered, whereas Dimitri seemed suspiciously sober. A sickening thought entered her mind.
Narrowing her eyes, she jerked her head up to direct a piercing glare at her new husband. “You tricked me, didn’t you? You liquored me up, then dragged me off to some ridiculous Vegas wedding chapel to tie the knot!”
He directed a cooling gaze at her. “I did not need to trick you, darling. You came along quite willingly.”
She flapped her arms. “I want this marriage annulled! I was drunk! I didn’t know what I was doing!”
That stony expression returned as he stared down at her. He uttered but one word. “Njet.”
It had the effect of a red flag on a bull. Exploding from the chair, she reared up at him with the intent of slapping him across his infernal face. The moment she hauled off, however, he caught her wrist and held it in a viselike grip. Glowering, he repeated, with more emphasis, “Njet. You are my wife now, and you will behave accordingly.”
“And what if I don’t?” she challenged.
His face split into a vicious grin. “You don’t want to discover what will happen if you break your promise. You won’t like what you find.”
And with those words, he released her, and strode calmly over to the phone as if nothing had happened, and started babbling something in Russian.
CHAPTER 2
“Get out of my way!”
Dimitri eyed the woman wearily. It was just like her to stir up so much trouble. When he met her the night before, he should have known this was what things would lead to.
He placed his hand flat on the door, blocking the way. He’d had to unlock it so room service could serve breakfast. As anticipated, she made a run for the door the moment he turned the key, and only a last minute tackle prevented her from making a clean break.
Apologizing profusely to a sallow-faced waiter, who’d eyed the scene of endearment between husband and wife with amusement, he dragged a kicking and screaming Ariel to the bedroom, locked her up in there for the time being, and returned to handsomely tip the befuddled waiter.
“She’s having a bad reaction,” he explained with a wink. When the waiter merely stared at him, not comprehending, he elaborated, “She got wasted last night. Fried to the tonsils.”
This time, the waiter understood, and a wide smile split his face. “Oh, but of course, sir. Women, sir. Can’t live with them, can’t kill them.” And he chuckled discretely at his own little joke. The Commodore Hotel trains its staff well and always accommodates its customers, even the weird ones.
“Right,” agreed Dimitri with a smile of his own. “Once she’s sober, she’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure she will, sir,” agreed the waiter expansively, palming the note placed in his hand. And before retreating, added, “I wish you good luck, sir.”
“Thanks. I’ll need it.”
The moment the unobtrusive little man left, he opened the bathroom door, and a berserk Ariel came storming
out, raced for the door and rather fruitlessly tried to make good her escape again.
“Look, my parents will be here any minute now,” he announced. “So I suggest you get yourself cleaned up a little. You look like a cheap whore.”
Her makeup from last night was still smeared all over her face, and she’d slept in her party clothes. She was a knock-out, no doubt about it, but she could do with a shower and a fresh set of threads.
Without waiting for her response and ignoring the death ray look she awarded him, he pointed to a small stack of clothes he’d had sent up early that morning. Good thing this hotel had a boutique. “I hope I guessed your size right. If not, I can get you what you need.” He checked his watch. “Please hurry. There isn’t time for all these fun and games.”
She stood, arms akimbo, still glaring at him. “Games? What games? The game where you kidnap me and rape me and force me into wedlock? That kind of game? Cause let me tell you, buddy, if you think you’ll get away with this, you’ve got another thing coming. This is the United States of America, not—” She gestured idly in his direction. “Whatever rock you crawled from under.”
He gave her an icy stare. “What rock? I’m Russian, and we don’t take kindly to foreigners who insult our great nation.”
Incredulous, she scoffed, “Wait till I tell my tale to the cops. They’ll have a field day.”
He folded his hands behind his back and stood rigid, staring her down. “You will not find that the police are your friends, Ariel. On the contrary. They abhor rude and imbecile foreigners just as much as I do.”
