The Moscow Affair

by Taylor Lee

  “Hey there. I thought I’d be seeing you.” He loped toward her and put his arm around her shoulders.

  “C’mon in, Nicki. She’s in the first room around the corner.”

  Nicki allowed herself to lean into Max’s comforting grasp for a second. She hadn’t realized how much she craved a human touch. Especially one that wasn’t hard with anger.

  Katya was lying on the narrow cot. Her shiny black hair had come loose from her braid and lay feathered across the pillow. Her skin was pale but already bruises were beginning to form on her upper arm and shoulder. Nicki’s gut clenched. She didn’t want to think about all the places where Katya would feel pain in the next several hours. Katya looked like she was sleeping and Nicki considered running, leaving before her victim knew she was there. Too late; Katya’s eyes fluttered, then opened wide when she saw Nicki.

  Clinging to the doorway for support, Nicki stammered, “I…I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry. I can come back later, if that would be…”

  Katya shook her head.

  “No, it’s okay. I’m glad you came, Nicki.”

  They were silent for a moment, then Nicki screwed up her courage.

  “Katya, I’m sorry. I…I didn’t…I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  A tiny smile hovered at her lips, then Katya said, “Yeah, girl, you really do know how to kick butt.”

  Nicki started. Was Katya actually cracking a joke? When she was lying in bed swathed in bandages with bruises covering her body, all thanks to Nicki? She stared at the young woman too startled to reply.

  Katya’s smile faded. It was replaced by something that looked like concern. She held out her hand.

  “Come here, Nicki. We need to talk.”

  Nicki took a deep breath and stepped back. She struggled against swirling, incoherent emotions. What the hell was wrong with Katya? Didn’t she know that Nicki had nearly broken her ribs? That she’d tried to beat the hell out of her? Dammit, she didn’t want her concern, her pity. She preferred Rafe’s fury. That’s what she deserved.

  Katya inched herself up higher on the pillow, wincing in pain. When she’d settled back, she raised her hand motioning to Nicki to come forward.

  Nicki shook her head.

  With a sigh, Katya nodded as if she understood.

  “Nicki, Grayson told me that you saw me and Rafe together. That you misunderstood what was happening.”

  Shock contorted with a mix of pain and anger flooded her. How dare this perfect woman, this adored person, presume that Nicki was blind to who Rafe was. Thrusting her chin in the air, she spit out a bitter retort.

  “There’s nothing I don’t understand about Rafe Boudin. I’m perfectly aware of who he is, what he is. I don’t need or want explanations from you.”

  Determined that Katya would not see the tears burning the backs of her eyelids, she turned to leave.

  “Nicki, wait. Don’t go. Please. I need to talk to you.”

  At the urgency in her voice, Nicki hesitated then turned to face her. Katya’s expression was serious, her voice was soft.

  “Rafe saved my life. I was one of those girls, Nicki. One of the girls we are going to find.”

  “What? What are you saying? What girls?”

  Katya’s eyes were dark with pain.

  “Five years ago…My family…my father… sold me…to the highest bidder.”

  Nicki gasped, staring at her.

  Katya shrugged. Tears swam in her eyes.

  “It could have been worse. They got four pigs and a cow for me. The rest of the girls only warranted pigs.”

  Katya forced a wan smile. Nicki couldn’t hide her shock.

  Katya continued. “Rafe led a Ranger team. He saved me. He and Vlad. It was part of an undercover op to bust up the human trafficking ring in Afghanistan. The traffickers preyed on starving families. I…I…can’t really blame my father. He was only doing the best he could for…for the rest of the family. Turns out I was his most valuable possession.”

  Nicki clung to the doorway, fighting a wave of dizziness.

  “I…I don’t know what to say, Katya. Except that I am very sorry.”

  Katya gave her a teary smile.

  “Hey, look on the bright side. I met Rafe and Vlad. They changed my life. Rafe sent me to a friend in Russia.” She smiled. “You know him well, Nicki. I studied at Moscow University. They discovered I had a talent for languages. And now five years later, I am a valued member of a team of the hottest-assed bunch of guys you’ll ever meet. And I’m doing what I can to pay them back.”

  Nicki was stunned, trying to grasp what Katya was telling her. Rafe and her father? Both connected to Katya. The woman lying wounded in an infirmary bed because of her? Nicki knew she should be ashamed but she was past shame. That thought hurt the most.

  “No wonder you love him. And…and I can see why he wants you here.”

  Katya wiped at her eyes, then flashed Nicki a genuine smile.

  “No, Nicki. You don’t understand. I’m here because Vlad wants me here.”

  She shifted her position, grimacing at the pain.

  “Vlad and I are married, Nicki. You are the second person who knows that. The first is Rafe. He was congratulating me today. But you are right about Rafe. I do love him. Like a brother. And the only man I admire more is Vlad. I am deeply in love with Vlad, Nicki.”

  Nicki’s hands were shaking. She could barely stand. Without the doorway to support her, she would have fallen. It was too much to absorb. Katya’s next words made it worse.

  “I came here because I want to help you and Rafe save these girls. I know better than most what is happening to them. You do too, Nicki. But I also came so that I could work with you. Rafe suggested it. He said you could help me, toughen me up. Vlad is always worried about me. Tries to keep me under lock and key. He finally agreed with Rafe that I could come so you could teach me to fight better. I’m sorry, Nicki, that you were upset. That I upset you. If I’d known how you felt about Rafe, I would have explained earlier.”

  Staring at the beautiful young women lying in bed covered with bruises apologizing to her, was more than Nicki could take. Consumed finally with shame, she had to leave, get as far away from Katya, from this hideous situation as she could.

  “Katya, I need to leave. I can’t talk any more. I…I will never forgive myself for what I did.”

  Katya frowned and shook her head.

  “No, Nicki.” Her voice was sharp. “What you did was prove how much I need your help. Forgiveness is my choice, not yours. And I do forgive you.”

  She grinned and continued. “You better watch out. When I get rid of these bandages and have a few more lessons, I’m going kick your ass!”

  Nicki groaned. She turned and ran from the room, slamming the door behind her. She flew by a startled Max, nearly knocking him over in her haste. She ran as though the hounds of hell were after her. Because they were.

  ~~~

  Burying herself in her work, she didn’t look up when Caleb slid a Diet Coke onto the desk in front of her. She nodded her thanks but ignored him. She didn’t want to see the pity in his eyes. Or the judgment. She didn’t want to talk to him—or anyone. It was clear all the men knew what had happened, what she had done. She forced herself to focus on her computer screen, frustrated at how the pictures of the three girls kept morphing into an image of Katya. Closing her eyes against the painful vision, Nicki became aware of the sudden silence in the room. She felt, rather than saw Caleb move closer to her. She looked up to see Rafe standing in the doorway, studying her through hooded eyes.

  He held her gaze, then jerked his head toward the doorway.

  “Meet me in the sparring ring, Nicki. Now.”

  Nicki leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. It didn’t take much imagination to know what Rafe had in mind. He was going to teach her a lesson. No doubt a painful one. Embarrassed that all the men knew what was happening, she stood and carefully stacked her notes in a neat pile, then pushed her chair against the d
esk. With her head held high, she turned to leave the room. As she walked by Rafe she saw that Caleb and Grayson had moved between him and the doorway. Neither man tried to hide his concern.

  Rafe quirked a brow and shot them a tight smile. He focused on Grayson.

  “Need something, Gray?”

  Grayson returned his smile.

  “Nope. Just making sure that my boss man has everything under control.”

  Rafe snorted, then included Caleb in his dismissive glance.

  “Don’t worry, boys. I’ve been needing to work with Nicki on her fighting skills for a while now. Today seems as good a time as any.”

  Nicki hurried out to the training center. The last thing she wanted to see was all the men chortling at her expense. She knew she should be frightened and she was. Rafe’s peculiar blend of martial arts was infamous for its brutality. Mixed in with every form of Asian martial arts, he’d added a violent holdover from his youth. One that had served him well on the mean streets of the Paris banlieues. Savate kickboxing was a particularly vicious form of martial arts. There was nothing pretty about it. Nothing honorable. The goal was to kick the shit out of your opponent, and when necessary, kick him to death. In the past, Rafe had often found the latter necessary.

  Chapter 11

  At the outdoor sparring ring, Nicki focused on her warm up. The strenuous stretches she’d cultivated over the years helped her concentrate. Helped her breathe energy into her muscles, calm her nerves. She knew there was no way she could beat Rafe. She’d be lucky if she dropped him once. No, her goal was to fight the way she’d been trained to fight and not give in to her fears. In a strange way, she welcomed what she knew was coming. She wasn’t a masochist. But she was such an emotional wreck, she welcomed the distraction of physical pain. God knows, she deserved it. And maybe for a short time at least she could forget what she had done.

  She felt his presence, marveling how he came up on her without a sound. Grayson and Caleb did that too. It must be something they learned in the jungles of Somalia, where the snap of a twig could mean death.

  She turned to face him and swallowed hard. Leaning against the railing, he’d removed his boots and was flexing his bare feet, a precursor to kickboxing. He’d stripped off his shirt, revealing his lean muscular torso. His chest and shoulders rippled. His biceps bulged. Ridges of taut muscle striped his abdomen. Even in his casual pose, his hard thighs strained beneath his cammo pants. The dusting of curly black hair on his chest trailed down his stomach to the top of his pants and below. Even now, against her will his body sent shockwaves of desire to her core. Nicki didn’t know when she had seen a more gorgeous man. Or a more dangerous one.

  Gazing at her through narrowed sea green eyes, his voice was lazy, as though they were preparing to dance, not fight.

  “Katya told me she still wants you to train her. Before I turn her over to you again, I need to test you. Check out your skills. See if you are good enough teach her.”

  She saw the menace in his eyes and knew he was setting her up. She was afraid, but she’d been afraid before and it hadn’t kept her from holding her own against men much bigger and stronger than she was.

  She lifted her chin, then grasped the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing her exercise bra. Turning her back to him, she toed off her boots then bent down and yanked off her socks. Still bent over, she unbuttoned her cammo pants and dropped them to her ankles then kicked them off. When she turned to face him she tugged at the bottom of her boy shorts to make sure they were covering her bottom. He was looking at her appraisingly. His eyes drifted over her, resting in strategic places. The hint of a smile lifted the corner of his mouth. His eyes were gleaming, dark green emeralds.

  “Is this one of your tactical weapons, Nicki? You try to distract your opponent with your hot little ass?”

  She scoffed. “Distraction is a key element of martial arts. I’m surprised, Rafe, that being as hot as you think you are that you don’t know that—and use it to your advantage.”

  She tossed her head.

  “Besides, you’ve made it clear that you aren’t interested in my body.”

  He unwound his tall body from the railing and sauntered over to her. When he was inches away, looming over her, he took her chin between his fingers and thumb and tipped her head back.

  “Still feisty, huh, Princess? Even when you’re about to get the shit kicked out of you? And for the record I never said I wasn’t interested in your body.”

  He moved closer. She felt his heat, his palpable anger.

  “How does it feel, Nicki? To know that someone you should be able to trust deliberately plans to hurt you? Do you feel betrayed? Do you think one of the men would have done that to you when you joined the team? That I would have let them?”

  She met his hard gaze with one of her own and shrugged.

  “I could have taken them. “

  He chortled. “Is that so? Good, then you won’t mind fighting me.”

  Before she saw it coming, he reached out and slapped her across her face.

  She jumped back, startled.

  His eyes gleamed. His grin was taunting.

  “That’s what we call the opening bell, sweetheart. It takes the place of a warrior cry in the banlieues where I learned to fight. It a sign of disrespect for your opponent.”

  Although it didn’t hurt much, and she understood his intent was simply to humiliate her, make her angry, Nicki couldn’t quell her flash of fury. By God, he wanted to fight? Great! Bring it on! She whirled away from him and screamed out a warrior cry. In one of her signature moves she flipped backwards and came up from the ground driving her heel up hard into his shoulder joint. To her surprise, he caught her foot and flipped her to the ground. She backed up on her hands and knees then rose and rushed toward him, furious that he’d caught her off guard. She drew back her knee as if to smash him in the groin, a move that had most men backing up protecting their jewels. But he saw her real intent, caught her flying elbow, and bent it back hard.

  She smothered a cry at the shooting pain as he spun her toward him. Pulling her up tight against him he said with a grin, “That worked so well, let’s do it again.”

  Once again, he reached out and slapped her. The slight sting on her cheek was nothing compared to the rage the smack elicited. Forgetting twenty years of practice she gave in to her wrath. All the anger and hurt she’d been feeling toward him, and the swamp of guilt she’d struggled with over Katya, boiled to the top. She kneed him again and this time got purchase, but not the way she intended. He danced to the side and her knee missed his groin and struck his hard thigh. She swore she heard her bone crack. Infuriated, she flipped from front to back and prepared to strike. Before she could attack he grabbed her and spun her around then yanked her up hard, her back against his bare chest. He wrapped his strong arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides, immobilizing her. Only her legs were free. She kicked frantically, but he managed to position her so that her ferocious kicks hit nothing but the air between his legs.

  “Put me down! Dammit. I mean it, Rafe. Let me go!”

  He chuckled. “Not likely, Princess. I like you right where you are.”

  “Bastard! Dammit, Rafe! Put me down!”

  She twisted from side to side, slamming the back of her head against his chest. Unable to break his fierce hold, she yelled, “Damn you, Rafe! This …this isn’t fighting! It’s…it’s manhandling!”

  At his laugh, she snapped, “What’s the matter? Are you afraid to fight me? Big, tough guy like you? Afraid to fight like a man?”

  With a snort, he dropped her in a heap on the ground. She tried to scramble away but he was too quick. Grabbing her ankle, he dragged her back and threw her down on her stomach, capturing her writhing body beneath him.

  When she reared up trying to throw him, he cracked her ass, a sharp smack. She howled in rage.

  “Let me go! This…this isn’t fighting! This is…” Her words caught in her throat coming peri
lously close to a sob. “Damn you, Rafe. Let me go!”

  “Not until you settle down, Princess.”

  He pressed against her, the length of his strong body imprisoning her. He straddled her, his strong thighs on either side of hers. When she tried to buck him off, he cracked her ass again, harder this time. Stunned that he’d spanked her, Nicki fought the rush of sensations sweeping over her.

  “That’s…that’s not how you are supposed to fight…”

  He growled in her ear, a low husky sound. “Jesus, Nicki, did you really think I’d fight you? What the hell do you think I am?”

  Forcing himself to remember that he was supposed to be punishing her, not thinking about what her hot little ass was doing to his unruly dick, he added a sure-fire insult, “Christ, you’re a girl!”

  She shrieked at the insult.

  He chuckled at her inarticulate fury. Further taunting her, he added, “But paddle your ass? That’s more like it. In fact, I think that’s a hell of an idea.”

  Apparently his cock agreed. He knelt up, lifting his body off of hers, attempting to hide his wayward arousal.

  Sensing her chance to escape, Nicki twisted out from under him. She jumped to her feet, then whirled on him and lashed out.

  “You…you son of a bitch. I hate you! Do you hear me? I hate you!”

  Her cheeks were flushed, her hair a wild flurry of fiery curls. Her hands were clenched in tight fists at her sides. She turned and started to run from the ring. When she got to the railing, she stopped and grabbed one of his boots and whirled it at him, missing his head by inches.

  “Jesus, Nicki. What the hell?”

  He jumped back, but had enough sense to duck when she flung the other boot at him. He laughed out loud. He couldn’t help himself. The incongruity of the scene was too much. If anything he was angrier than he had been—now more with himself than with her.

  Christ, did she really think he would fight her? Mark up that beautiful body? Purposely hurt her? Remembering the pain on her face two nights ago, he grimaced and corrected himself. At least physically, he would never hurt her. Fight her? Hell no. From the moment he saw her warming up, preparing to take him on, he was a goner. Even knowing that she had no chance to defeat him, or even hold her own, she was willing to face him. Damn, what a woman. What she didn’t understand was that he wasn’t a martial artist, he was an accomplished barehanded killer. The idea of fighting her, hitting her in anger, was anathema.