by Nic Saint
He gave her the icy look she’d come to expect from him. His black hair was curled over his brow, and in the relative obscurity of the car, his skin looked even darker than usual, his brows drawn close over dangerously glittering eyes. In the beginning, he’d managed to intimidate her with those eyes, but not anymore. She was a free woman, goddammit, and she wouldn’t be bullied into a decline by some two-bit Russian gangster.
“You are right.”
She was so astonished by this unexpected admission she was speechless.
“The plan is not working. It is not your fault. It is mine.”
He turned to stare out the window and fell into a moody silence.
Tentatively, she held out a hand and touched his shoulder. With a jerk, he wheeled around, all coiled muscle ready for the spring. The man was a ticking time bomb.
“I’m sorry,” she quickly muttered, withdrawing her hand. “I just wanted to say that if this doesn’t work out, it’s not your fault. I think you’ve played your part to perfection. It must be the other man.”
“Callaway.”
“Yes.” She shrugged. “Perhaps he’s dead. Perhaps that’s why no one has seen him or heard from him all these years.”
“He is not dead,” he assured her with a dark frown. “I am sure of it.” He gestured a hand at the street outside. “Nathan Callaway is out there, laughing his ass off.”
“Then I’m sure we’ll find him. After all, how hard can it be?”
“Very hard. If a man does not want to be found, it is very hard indeed.”
“I don’t believe that,” she countered. When he gave her a skeptical look, she added defensively, “There will always be a trace, won’t there? In this day and age? Nobody can disappear just like that.” She snapped her fingers.
“With the right resources, you can.”
Well, that was something she didn’t know a thing about, of course. Her resources were limited. His apparently limitless.
“These Gornakovs,” she ventured, eager to learn more, now that he seemed so unexpectedly garrulous. “How are they to work for? I mean,” she quickly added at his frown, “are they nice?”
God, that sounded stupid. Well, she just wanted to make conversation, didn’t she? Break the ice?
There was a mocking expression in his eyes, and the hint of a smile on his lips. “Nice? Are you asking me if the Gornakovs are nice?”
She made a helpless gesture with her hand. “Well, I’m just curious, you know. After all, they’re my employers too.” She shrugged. “In a way, at least.”
He shook his head, the humor still shimmering in his eyes. “I wouldn’t call Yuri and Vladimir Gornakov nice, Miss Liverpool. They are the most ruthless men you could ever hope to meet.”
“Well, I hope I never meet them, then,” she muttered. “And it’s Dora, by the way. Seeing as I’ve been playing your wife for three days now, it’s about time we got on a first name basis, don’t you think?”
He merely gave her his hard, penetrating look again, only this time she thought she detected a sliver of mirth in his eyes. Then he held out his hand and wrapped hers in its firm grip. Jerking back a little, she experienced a thrill of anticipation at the first physical connection she’d made to this strange and dangerous man. A tingle of electricity shot up her arm and spread along her spine.
“You may call me Roman.”
Her lips twitched up into a nervous smile. “Oh, all right. Pleased to meet you, Roman.” She spoke with a breeziness she wasn’t feeling, once again caught in the prison of his eyes, the warmth of his hand seeping into her being. She swallowed convulsively, and when he finally released her hand, he still held her captive with his intent gaze. It was as if he was looking into her soul, and the torment was both exhilarating and frightening.
The examination over, he abruptly turned away from her and returned his eyes to the window, to the streets of New York passing by. “Strange city,” he murmured. “Perhaps one day you will show me.”
“P-pardon?” she muttered. Did he just ask her to show him the city?
He shrugged. “Or not. As you wish.”
“No, I’d be glad to show you around, Roman.”
He turned and gave her a cursory smile. “I would like that, Dora. I would like that very much.” Then the smile disappeared. “But first we catch the rat Callahan. Business before pleasure.”
As she studied his profile, she thought he was probably the most infuriating man she’d ever met. Then she sighed. But also the most fascinating.
CHAPTER 28
“There’s nothing wrong with being afraid.”
The words had been spoken softly, and when Ariel looked up into Dimi’s eyes, she knew them to be true. As long as he was here, being afraid was a luxury she could afford, for he would always be there to protect her.
In Scotland, Dad had smuggled them off the Aida, then whisked them away to a small private airstrip just outside of Aberdeen. A company jet had been fueled and ready, and now they were finally on their way to America, safe in the knowledge no one would be able to track them there.
Leaning back in her comfortable seat, she stared out the window at the fleecy clouds covering the earth like a blanket. It wouldn’t be long now before she was finally home again, though Nathan had warned her she could never return to her old life. Not as long as the czars of organized crime reigned supreme. Like him, she was now on their ever-growing list of enemies to be dealt with. And so was Dimitri.
In his case, things were even worse. For it was his own brother who was gunning for him, the order of his capture clear.
Brother against brother, it was a harrowing world these men lived in, she thought as she dreamily gazed out the window with unseeing eyes. She just hoped Dimitri would never come to regret the sacrifice he’d made for her sake.
He’d assured her he was fine with it, said he never had any real friends anyway, all of them more colleagues than friends. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but she was his family now, and nothing else mattered.
She had one last worry left, and it was her mother. She’d told her to wait for her in New York. Luckily, Nathan had managed to send a team to her, and she was being relocated to a different hiding place.
She felt Dimi’s fingers wrapping around hers. It sent a jolt of comfort skipping through her body. He would always be there for her, he’d promised, and she knew it was a promise he intended to keep.
Not one easily deterred by danger or the difficulties of life, this was a situation she found herself unprepared for, but with the help of both her father and her husband, she would face it bravely.
She stared across the aisle at Nathan. He looked exactly like in the pictures adorning their house, only older and grayer, some more lines around his eyes. Once he’d discarded his disguise, she’d been amazed at how easily she recognized him.
When asked if he would ever consider reuniting with her mother, he’d wavered. Life had taken him in a different direction, his decision to disappear fueled by the desire to keep his family safe. But circumstances had changed, and had compelled him to reveal himself. Though he didn’t voice the intention, she knew he was considering going home but fearing Ariel’s mother’s reaction. She’d assured him that Mom would be over the moon, but he wasn’t so sure. The shock of meeting the man she’d assumed dead might be too much for her.
She looked up at the sound of Dimi’s voice. “Everything all right, honey? You look pale,” he noted with concern.
“I’m fine. Still a little shook up about the whole thing.”
“Being reunited with your father.”
She offered him a weary smile. “So much has happened these last few days. First meeting you, then going on the run. Now meeting Dad…”
It still felt odd to address Nathan as Dad. After all, he’d disappeared from their lives before she was even born. He was a stranger to her, albeit one with whom she shared a strong connection. Dimi said they also shared the color of their eyes and their strength of character.
“Once we’re settled in, and our new lives have begun, you’ll be fine,” Dimi told her, and his reassurance did her good.
“What I would like most…” She halted, suddenly afraid to voice her deepest wish.
“What is it?” he urged gently.
She smiled, feeling silly. “My deepest wish is for us to live together as a family. You and I, Mom and Dad.” She gave a wistful sigh. “And perhaps even your big brother.”
Dimi grimaced. “Roman? I don’t think so, honey. He hates my guts. He wants me dead.”
She shook her head. “You know that’s not true, Dimi. Your brother loves you. I could see it in the way you were together.” It was true. In the brief moment she’d watched the two brothers, she’d seen the love that was there, the bond between brothers. She simply couldn’t believe Roman would wish his brother harm.
“He wanted to hurt you. That’s enough to make him my enemy,” insisted Dimi. He’d clearly not forgiven his brother for the murderous intent toward the woman he loved.
“One day, perhaps,” she murmured, reveling in the warmth of Dimi’s closeness. One day, they would all be friends. She knew she was being naive, perhaps, but then that was her right.
As the plane started making its slow descent, she leaned her head against Dimi’s shoulder, content that at least he was here, and as long as he was, she would be fine. Whatever happened next.
CHAPTER 29
Later that night, Ariel woke up from a horrible dream. In it, her mother and father had been gunned down by a pair of brutal hoods working for the Gornakov family. The scene: her wedding. Only this time, it was a real wedding, and not the charade she’d gone through in Vegas. She was dressed in white, her long train eagerly lifted by two flower girls, the bridegroom waiting for her in front of the church, all their friends and loved ones present.
When the men had charged in and had started shooting up the place, she’d been thrown to the floor by Dimi, who’d covered her with his own body, shielding her from the bullets as they peppered him.
She’d awoken on a scream, and when she sat up, had found herself gazing into Dimi’s trusty eyes, now filled with worry.
“What’s wrong, honey?” He wiped the sweaty strands from her moist brow. “Did you have a nightmare?”
She couldn’t even form the words to describe the horrifying events that had taken place in her dream. All she could do was throw herself in his arms, and whisper, “Hold me, Dimi. Hold me tight.”
They’d arrived after midnight, the house large and accommodating. It belonged to a couple that Dimi seemed to be acquainted with, and so did her father. She’d only briefly seen the man. He was large and foreboding looking, and with his dark eyes and hawklike profile reminded her of Roman. His name was Vitaly Loganov, and he’d been in the same line of business Dimi and his brother were. Only he’d escaped the life and was now working for the American government as an informer, helping them clean up organized crime in the country.
She’d been exhausted, and had faltered on the steps leading upstairs. Dimi had caught her and carried her up. The last thing she remembered was falling into a bed of softness, sleep immediately finding her and enveloping her in its comforting embrace.
“No one can hurt you here,” Dimi whispered. “You’re safe.”
Her face was wet with tears when he kissed her gently, stirring her lips ever so softly, and then his arms were holding her tight, enveloping her in a circle of comfort, and she whimpered at the feel of his embrace. She needed this—she needed to feel him close to her—so close.
“Make love to me, Dimi,” she implored when he hesitated, the fragility of her state giving him pause. Then, as their kiss deepened and their tongues found each other in a torrent of heat, the familiar passions were ignited, and it was as if she’d unleashed a deep slumbering desire, both within herself and in him—a desire that had lain coiled up inside and now sprung free.
She needed him so much—wanted him so much that it hurt inside. Then his hands were roaming her body, exploring the softness of her flesh and smoothness of her skin. And when they were both naked, and she was writhing beneath him, she felt his hardness pressing up against the entrance to her sex, his reluctance but a feeble dam against the raging yearning inside. And when she whispered his name, he penetrated her with an impassioned groan, and then they were one again. His hardness deeply rooted within her, she cried out, not in fear and agony this time, but with the exquisite pleasure of making love to the only man she’d ever loved.
This time, when she felt the now familiar tremulous surge, Dimi, too, was on the verge, only to plunge even deeper within, and then he was calling out her name, and she received his seed with the knowledge that their love would live on, not just in time, but in her flesh.
A new life would be created out of the love they shared, and with tears of joy instead of fear, she gratefully accepted his gift, and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him close and capturing his lips. As he collapsed, she held him close to her bosom, his heaving form dwarfing her slender frame. Her man mountain. Her love.
She didn’t know what the future would bring, but as long as they were together, she knew she would be fine. She would be loved, and protected, and cared for, and that was all that mattered.
Her father had left immediately after saying his goodbyes, and hadn’t been able to tell her when he would return. He’d promised her everything would work out, and so had Dimi.
She was in a strange house now, with people she’d never met, her old life over, a new one not yet begun.
There was fear, yes, and uncertainty as to what would be next for her, but there was also the reassurance she loved, and was loved in return.
“Dimi,” she murmured, carelessly curling his dark hair. “Why do you love me?”
He leaned up, supporting himself on his elbow, and smiled. “There are no whys when it comes to love, my darling. There is only love. And the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one for me.”
“But how did you know?” she insisted, wondering why a Russian enforcer would fall for his captive.
His lips curled up into a grin, and the familiar laugh lines appeared around his eyes. He placed a hand on his heart. “I felt a pain when I saw you. A terrifying pain. The worst pain I’ve ever experienced in my life. My heart was beating, and it was as if it was being torn to pieces. At first I thought I was dying. My breath came in gasps, sweat beaded on my brow. And then I caught your smile. For a brief moment, you looked at me and then I knew. I wasn’t dying. I was in love. In love with you, my darling.”
She gave a wistful sigh. She recognized the symptoms. She’d felt them too. Not at first, perhaps—she’d hated him, the brute who’d caught her and made her prisoner—but later on, she’d experienced the same thing. “And the pain? Did it go away?”
“I hope it will never go away. I keep it here.” He patted his chest. “It is a very sweet pain. And each time I see you, I’m reminded of it. That’s how I know it is love, and not something that will kill me.” He offered a charming grimace. “At least, I hope it won’t.”
He played his fingers along her belly, then trailed a path along her breasts and up to her throat, finally to arrive at the delicate skin beneath her ear. Leaning in, he placed the softest, sweetest kiss on her lips, then gazed into her eyes with an intensity that took her breath away. “I love you, Ariel Cole, and I always will.”
“And I love you, Dimitri Loginovsky, and I always will.”
It was a warm night in Lincoln, the small town they’d arrived in, and as they lay together, she enjoyed the gentle breeze wafting in through the open window, stirring the curtains that gently billowed and swayed.
Tomorrow was another day. The first day of their future together, and whatever fate might put in their path, they would be facing it together, as husband and wife.
Yes, thought Ariel as she drifted off to sleep, safely wrapped in Dimi’s arms. All would be well.
End of T
his Part…
Read more about Ariel & Dimi and Dora & Roman in the final part of the Russian Enforcers trilogy:
Russian Enforcer’s Feisty Lover
RUSSIAN ENFORCER’S FEISTY LOVER
Russian Enforcers 3 (Roman & Dora)
Nic Saint
CHAPTER 1
“There is nothing I’d like to do more than comply with your wishes, sir, but I’m afraid I can’t.” Lidiya’s lip quivered as she spoke the words, and she hated herself for it. It was not the picture she wanted to project to the infernal man before her.
Alexei Demiakov was tall, handsome and arrogant, and obviously used to getting his way. Well, Lidiya would see to it that the infuriating Russian got what he deserved: nothing at all!
The mogul tapped his finger on his desk. He seemed unperturbed by her resistance, and if the mocking expression on his face was anything to go by, reluctant to take no for an answer.
“I’ll have you know, Miss Kotova,” he drawled, “that the moment you sign this document, all your troubles will be over.” He gestured to the piece of paper before her. “Sign on the dotted line, and I will make you a wealthy woman.”
“I don’t think so, sir,” she countered. She shifted uneasily in her chair. One didn’t say no to Alexei Demiakov, but she saw no other choice.
He raised one eyebrow at so much impudence. “You are aware of the consequences, aren’t you?”
Was there a warning lurking behind those words? No matter. She would do what was right. “I really can’t accept your offer, sir,” she repeated, hoping that would be the end of it.
If she’d known she would be granted an interview with Demiakov, she would never have responded to the request to come in. She’d thought this would be a simple job interview, not a one-on-one with one of the most dangerous men in Russia.
