Laney Paul should have noticed him. He was 6’7” of solid muscle. It didn’t matter where he went, people stopped to stare at him. He was well over a foot taller than the woman he was supposed to engage in hand-to-hand combat and he probably outweighed her by 200 pounds. The absurdity of the situation should have warranted at least a glance from her, not to mention the fact that he was covered from head to foot in tattoos and generally considered one scary looking son-of-a-bitch. Hell, the first time Claudia Cantore, the woman standing close at his side, saw him, she’d nearly wet herself and scaled a fence to get away from him. Though she hadn’t in actuality moved a muscle, he could see the impulse in her eyes.
Yet, the fairly nondescript woman hadn’t so much as twitched in their direction to indicate she’d noticed their arrival. Boris could feel his temper rising, along with his curiosity. He crossed his arms, making the massive muscles in his arms bulge ominously, and glanced down at Claudia. She grinned up at him sheepishly and whispered, “I thought she might be a little bigger.”
Boris grunted. He didn’t bother to respond. In reality, the woman would have to be built like a tank to take him down. Even then, it wasn’t a likely bet. Daniel Mercer was the only human being in the western hemisphere likely to take Boris in a fair fight, which was why Claudia had begged him to help today. She desperately wanted a woman personal bodyguard, but Mercer wasn't having one on staff that couldn’t prove herself in hand-to-hand combat. Apparently none of Daniel’s men would touch a woman, which left Daniel himself to fight her.
Boris bit back a grin. Daniel wouldn’t break a sweat either, literally or figuratively, over beating up a woman. He would do the deed and move on to the next applicant. So Claudia had called in a favour and asked Boris to come let a woman beat him up so she could have female protection. How the fuck he was going to convince Mercer that this bitty little mouse was able to take him on might prove to be interesting.
Boris was about to tell Claudia it wasn't going to work and that she should ask the Russians for something else, like an arms shipment or a small country, when Laney finally turned to face him. Her eyes flared slightly as she finally took him in. His eyes narrowed in return. Her look hadn’t been one of fear or even surprise. It had been recognition.
At a young age, Boris had learned to look out for himself and a brother that couldn’t keep himself out of trouble, which meant reading situations and people. Each nuance could mean the difference between life or death. He would stake his entire inheritance on the fact that Laney Paul knew exactly who he was.
But she was a mystery to him, and Boris didn’t fucking like mysteries.
He stalked toward her, intent on finding out exactly who the woman was and what she was doing in his city. He didn’t like it. He was Russian and she was most likely Japanese or something close. They were from completely different countries, why would she know him? How and why was she there?
He tensed when she moved away from Mercer and King and strode toward him as well. Their feet whispered on the training mats as the space between them disappeared. He stopped in the middle, forcing her to cross the distance to him. He kept his arms crossed, a thunderous frown on his bearded face as he glared down at her approaching figure. Her own face remained as unfazed as it had from the moment he’d entered the room. He realized two things as he stared down at her. She was younger than he’d first thought, probably in her early to mid twenties, which put her much younger than his thirty-six years. And that she wasn’t even a little bit plain, as he’d first thought.
The fine bones of her face were so heartbreakingly delicate that he knew he wouldn’t be able to look at her if they actually commenced with this ridiculous charade. There was no way he would throw a punch at that pixie-like arrangement. Her black hair was pulled back in two severe braids and tucked behind her pert ears. Though she tried to hide her body under austere, militaristic clothing, as a man that could appreciate curves on a woman, he could tell she had nicely rounded tits and ass.
Mine, his body whispered, noticing every detail.
The last thing he wanted to do was throw down with her. He wanted to throw her down and fuck her, then maybe he would get around to asking his questions. Boris was not one to get serious about women. He fucked around plenty with the whores at the clubs. He didn’t have time or patience for more than that. His life was complicated. Both here in America and back in Mother Russia. He couldn’t drag a woman into that shit storm.
Mercer approached them, eyeing Boris with undisguised dislike. Boris didn’t take it personal. Mercer didn’t like anyone. The fact that Boris was in King Tower unmolested by the deadly security chief was practically an endorsement of friendship. “Ms. Cantore explained what’s expected?” Mercer asked.
Boris nodded his head once. He doubted she was supposed to “explain” the part where she wanted Boris to lose this fight. He bit back a short grin as he pictured the small woman in front of him actually pinning him to the mat. His cock responded to the image of her lithe, delicate body straddling his thick girth. He nearly groaned out loud. If Mercer and King, two of the deadliest men he knew, weren’t standing there, he probably would have reached for the woman.
“Take down, tap out,” Mercer said. “Anything else goes. Try not to break her bones, King doesn’t appreciate lawsuits.”
Laney sent Mercer a tiny glare while Boris grunted in acknowledgement wondering how lightly he was going to have to touch this one in order not to damage her. Claudia snorted from her position on the edge of the mat and rolled her eyes. “You’re a good one to talk, Daniel.”
Mercer ignored the mistress of King Tower and nodded at Laney. “Impress me,” he said. “And try not to die.”
Apparently men having no faith in her ability to kick some ass fired up the cool-as-a-cucumber beauty, because she immediately whirled around Boris and planted a tiny foot into his back, just over his left kidney. Boris absorbed the hit easily and quickly snatched her ankle, surprising the woman with his speed. He could have easily ended their time together with a light tap to the temple that would have knocked her out cold, but he wasn’t ready to finish with the foreplay quite yet.
Besides the blond bombshell, Claudia Cantore, was looking so innocently hopeful that this tiny Asian dancer really could take on a Russian behemoth and make her dreams come true. Goddammit. The Russians really did owe her something for setting King on her tail when she tried to outrun him. Instead of taking Laney down to the mat like he should have, Boris turned and grabbed her by the neck. He caught her scent. It reminded him of home, of Russia. It was exotic and beautiful, like lilies and honey.
Mine, his mind whispered.
Lifting her by the ankle and neck he threw her across the mats. She landed easily with a roll, coming up on her feet and running toward him without a pause. He shifted his stance to catch her if she launched herself at him in another attack. She was smart. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to withstand any kind of attack by him and she wasn’t going to win if he got his hands on her so her best plan was to put him on the defensive. If he was busy fighting her off, perhaps he would tire, at which point she could move in for the kill.
Of course, her strategy was doomed to failure. Much like a butterfly beating her wings at him, eventually it was her that would weaken and him that would move in for the kill. Although, at some point he would have to let her get the upper hand. Not only for Claudia’s sake, but because he wanted her to get the job. He was intrigued. He also needed to know how she recognized him.
Laney kept her hands and arms in tight to her body and used mostly footwork to dance around her opponent and kick him when his guard was down. Her legs were powerful and would have caused a man with less muscled padding a whole lot of pain. Boris grunted once as her foot got under his guard and nearly unmanned him, drilling into his thigh instead. He silently decided she would need to pay for that one.
Their styles were much different. While it was clear that she was trained in several martial arts, and li
kely comfortable with bladed weapons, he fought dirty. Multiple incarcerations had taught Boris the value of survival no matter how it was achieved. He used every opportunity at his disposal to win a fight. He used his extreme strength, surprising speed and superior reach against her at every turn. He sent her flying across the mats and crashing into the wall. As she danced around him, he caught one of her braids and yanked her head back sharply, sending her spinning painfully into the mat. Claudia gasped and cried foul when he’d grabbed Laney’s hair, but Mercer had shot her a look that shut her up and King strode to her side to keep her silent. He knew Mercer would approve. War wasn’t fair.
Boris continued to play with Laney, weakening her. He could see in her body language that she was tiring. She was slower to get up, her attack speed was a split second behind what it had been. It was time to end this. Time to let Laney get her point in, then end this charade and leave so he could gather his thoughts and decide how to proceed with this new development.
Having decided what style of martial arts she was best practiced in, Boris let her run at him again, but instead of going on the defensive, he dropped his guard. He clenched his gut, vowing the hit he was about to take squared the Russians with the blond. Laney struck him in the stomach with her right foot and then twisted sideways going for a kick to the side of the head with her left leg in hopes of bringing him to the ground.
Boris grunted and grabbed her right leg to give her the leverage she needed, knowing he wouldn’t go down unless she had some help. Mercer was at their backs so he couldn’t see them. Laney jerked in surprise but didn’t lose momentum, she continued her attack, kicking Boris in the side of the head and then tackling him to the ground with her thighs wrapped around his thick neck.
Boris crashed to the ground, his body hitting the mat hard and shaking the entire room. He was pretty sure the floor was concrete beneath the mats. Thankfully. Cages housing the surveillance and combat equipment rattled ominously. Despite the pain he knew he should be in, his eyes rolled back in his head and pure lust jolted through his body. His cock jerked painfully in his jeans. The foot in the gut and the kick to the side of the head (hell the ringing in his fucking ear) was totally worth the fact that her cunt was sitting inches from his mouth and nose.
Helplessly he brought his hands up to clench the thighs that were wrapped around his neck, attempting to cut off his air supply, and squeezed them harder into his his throat. Her eyes widened as she stared down at him. He tilted her hips up and breathed in the spicy sweet scent of her pussy. She gasped in shock and looked like she was about to scramble off of him. “Don’t,” he growled sharply, loud enough for her ears alone, his accent thick. “Finish this.”
Understanding flared in her eyes. She knew she needed to get him to tap out and she needed to make it look real if she wanted to get the job. She glared down at him distrustingly, but braced her hands over his head and squeezed her strong thighs as hard as she could. He grinned up at her, clenching his teeth, telling her without words that no matter how hard she squeezed it was never going to be enough to choke him out. The tendons in his neck and shoulders withstood the pressure of her assault as she tried to make him submit. Finally after about two minutes he lifted his hand and patted her pert ass twice.
Laney wasted no time. She rolled off him and tried to crawl away as fast as she could, braids swinging in her flushed face. Boris reached for her and dragged her toward him. She used every trick in her vast repertoire of combat knowledge to get him to release her, but now that the game was finally over and he was done playing, he refused to let go. He pinned her to the mat and forced her to lay underneath his heavy body.
Finally, she admitted defeat, too tired to continue struggling. He dominated her at every turn, showing her without words that her years of martial arts training meant nothing against his brutal strength and skills. He loved the way she felt beneath him. Helpless, worried, dominated. She bit her lip and refused to look at him. He didn’t like that. He wanted her eyes on him, understanding that her life was about to change. Heedless of the others in the room with them, Boris shoved his leg between hers and thrust his erection into the cradle of her thighs, forcing her to feel him.
She gasped and her eyes flew up to his. It was like taking another hit to the gut. He must have been so concentrated on the fight that he hadn’t noticed earlier: her eyes were a clear sparkling sapphire blue.
Mine, his heart whispered, ensnaring his soul.
She lifted a small hand and tapped it twice against the mat. She was asking for mercy. He had none to give. She would belong to him. Eventually. He rolled off of her and grabbing her arm, helped her to her feet without waiting for her permission. She stepped away from him as fast as humanly possible and then struggled to replace the look of confusion and need with the bland expression that he bet was her perpetual armour. He would also bet his last dollar her pussy was wet for him.
***
Oh. My. God. It’s him. It’s my mark. Laney thought, awe and panic filling her as she took in the massive beast of a man that she was here to assassinate. She wasn’t supposed to meet him like this. Never in her wildest dreams had Laney imagined she would meet Boris Grekov himself less than two days after arriving in America.
Her heart thumped wildly while she schooled her features to cool perfection. She had learned at a young age that a tell might get her killed. Or beaten. Emotion wasn’t worth the pain. So she never showed the world what she thought. She wouldn’t show this man that she was terrified of him. Or that she was attracted to him and had been from the moment she’d set eyes on his photo. It had been so long since Laney had wanted a man. But she had a job to do.
If she didn’t complete her job, Jin would die.
Look for Book 6 of Fire & Vice coming out Summer 2017!
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Bonus
– Excerpt from Book 3: King's Command
Tyson King felt her presence the moment she stepped across the threshold and into the city’s most dangerous illegal gambling den. His shoulders stiffened as he glanced up and spotted her. Tyson didn’t so much as twitch a muscle to give away his sudden tension, but his bodyguard, Daniel Mercer, went instantly to attention and scanned the room. Tyson knew the moment his deadly man set eyes on Claudia Cantore, because his alarm dropped and he relaxed back into position behind Tyson.
Tyson forcibly quelled the surge of jealous rage that flared to life as male eyes all over the room focused on her. The tall, beautiful blond was starting to draw stares from some of the city’s most dangerous men. Tonight Claudia had packed her delicious curves into a thigh length blue bandage dress with her waist length honey-coloured hair flowing loose around her bare shoulders. Her long legs were made longer by the four-inch spiked, black heels she wore.
His rational self acknowledged that she was a stunning woman who drew stares no matter where she went. Still, he found himself wanting to stalk across the room toward her, drag her home and spank her ass for daring to wear that dress in public, let alone in a room full of hardened males with power-privilege complexes. The only thing stopping him was that she had no idea who he was or why he felt the intense need to keep her locked away for himself.
He watched her, his dark eyes following every movement of her graceful body, every breath she took in that tiny dress. His calculating brain went over his acquisition plan once more, assuring himself he would eventually possess the woman who had consumed his thoughts these past three months. He didn’t become a billionaire from rash behaviour, but from calmly, ruthlessly acquiring things that made him rich. Now he applied that strategy to something that he wanted: Claudia Cantore.
Her eyes met his. He didn’t break his stare, enjoying the tiny flare to her eyes before she nervously broke contact and turned to her friend, Anastasia Sitnikov, to speak in low tones. When Anastasia turned to look where her friend was gesturing, he saw the recognition and instant alarm on her petite features. Interesting. The mob princ
ess knew exactly who he was and of his ruthless reputation.
Unfortunately, he suspected she was in the process of telling Claudia to keep her distance from him, which would make his plans to woo the blond beauty slightly more difficult. He had enough information on his quarry to potentially blackmail her into his bed, but he had planned on using more subtle measures. There was a softness to her – of looks and personality – and he didn’t want to spoil it. He wanted her willing.
Tyson rapidly calculated the odds of Claudia coming to him easily with Anastasia’s condemnation now contaminating any future contact between them. Claudia was a suspicious woman, if somewhat naïve. Her colourful past leant her an edge, despite her softness. She didn’t make friends easily, and the fact that she willingly followed the Sitnikov girl into a seedy gambling den told him that she would listen to her friend when she told her to stay away from Tyson King.
With an annoyed sigh, Tyson picked up his water glass and swallowed half of the liquid before placing the glass carefully on the table. He wanted a cigar, but smoking wasn’t allowed in the club, an amusing fact considering the illegal nature of the underground casino’s existence. Khalid Mahdavi, the current owner, didn’t enjoy the smell stinking up his establishments. Tyson’s finger twitched around the unopened Cohiba he had placed on the table in anticipation of a smoke break before his next round.
The smoke would have to wait. He wasn’t willing to leave Claudia in the room unprotected with some of the most unscrupulous men the city could scrape up. His eyes tracked the woman as she followed her smaller friend across the floor toward a table with two empty spots. He frowned fiercely, disliking the way she so easily turned her back on him, dismissing him from her thoughts once Anastasia had warned her away. As the women approached, the men at the table all but drooled on themselves in their hurry to have two attractive ladies buy into their game. Tyson wanted to murder them all.
Fear in Her Eyes (Fire & Vice Book 5) Page 29
