She felt the muzzle against her forehead.
Then nothing.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Saskia loved everything about school. She loved the books, she loved her laptop, she loved taking notes, she even loved exams. When Jozef deemed it safe enough for her to return to the University, she’d immediately registered for her winter classes. It took some cajoling to get into a few of them, given her late attendance, but she managed a full course load.
Saskia loved university and opted to spend more time on campus than off. She ate in the cafeteria, she studied all over the place, wherever she could find a sunny nook. She spent time in the library almost every day, soaking in the atmosphere.
It was the university that made her return to Prague bearable. The shining goal of finishing her linguistics degree.
As a child she had grown up with tutors, only attending classes with other students in her two years of boarding school. That had been different from the university. The students were similar age and background, and class sizes were limited to a handful of students.
Saskia found she loved learning in large lecture halls with dozens of other students. It gave her a sense of competition and comradery. She would occasionally eat lunch with one of her new friends, usually people who took classes with her. She hadn’t stretched her wings much in the friend direction. Her security detail wasn’t easy to work with and they preferred she kept to herself, minimizing her exposure to potential risks.
Saskia was currently holed up at the back of the library on the third floor. She was sitting at a table in the corner, so she was surrounded by windows and light. She loved the feel of the sunshine falling across her shoulders and spilling onto her books as she studied.
It was June. She was taking summer classes to make up for missed time.
She wore her noise cancelling headphones and had Metallica’s Fade to Black blasting. She learned better with music.
She was so absorbed in her book that, at first, she didn’t notice the man striding through the stacks toward her, a predator zeroing in on his prey. It wasn’t until a shadow fell across her books that she realized someone was standing next to her, too close.
Her heart picked up as she stared down at the shadow across her notebook while reaching for her gun with the other. It was tucked in the front flap of her backpack, which she kept zipped.
Damn it, she couldn’t reach it. She must’ve kicked her backpack away.
Finally, she turned her head and looked up.
Her breath caught and her heart began hammering a painful tattoo in her chest. The most terrifying man she’d ever seen was standing over her, his inscrutable dark eyes on her face. His skin was as dark as his dark brown, almost black gaze. His hands were loose at his sides, each roughly the size of her head. He was huge, his body filled with the bulk of muscle. He wore a uniform. Khaki pants, with a khaki jacket. There were medals pinned to his chest.
She didn’t know who he was, but she had no doubt he knew who she was. He was there for her and, if the air of deadly menace he exuded was correct, he was there to kill her.
The track she was listening to switched to Rituál, a song by a Czech metal band, Master’s Hammer. The intense, heavy metal intro was enough to send her strange confrontation with the assassin into the next level. She dove for her backpack, quickly unzipping her bag and pulling her pistol from its holster.
As she turned in her seat to point the gun, the stranger dropped to one knee next to her chair. She stared at him, her breath coming out in a gasp that sounded explosive in her earphones. Even crouched, he was taller than she was.
He ignored the gun pointed at his heart. He studied her with an intensity that made her skin feel first cold, then hot all over. His gaze went from unreadable to interested. He liked what he saw. She could tell.
Her heart pounded for an entirely different reason as her body reacted viscerally to the massive stranger. She didn’t know why. Her logical brain thought he was the most terrifying human being she’d ever met, and she would bet every silly doll in their original packages she owned that this man was connected with the mafia.
Which meant it wasn’t a coincidence his running into her in the library. He knew she’d be here, and he deliberately sought her out.
Where were her guards? Dead?
Was she about to die?
He lifted a hand and touched her head, his fingers wrapping around her earphone.
She thought he was going to lift it away from her ear so he could speak to her, but he didn’t. He caressed it, as though he was caressing skin. And despite that he didn’t actually touch her a sizzle of awareness ran through her.
He leaned forward and for a crazy moment she thought he was going to kiss her full on the lips. She tightened her finger on the trigger. He pressed his lips to her forehead.
Without a word, he stood and left, striding away from her and giving her a full view of his truly massive form. He had to be damn near seven feet tall. She’d never seen anyone like him in person.
Long after he’d disappeared around the book racks, she sat frozen, her gun hand still up, her finger still on the trigger. Slowly, she lowered her hand and flipped the safety back on.
“What the fuck was that?” she whispered, though her music was too loud for her to hear her own voice.
She shoved her gun back into her bag, packed up her laptop and ran through the stacks, determined to see the man again and to find out what the fuck had happened to her guards. She really hoped they weren’t dead; she’d just broken them in.
Radik’s heart was pounding. It was actually pounding.
It never beat faster than normal. He’d survived gun battles without flinching. Watched explosions take out strongholds without breaking a sweat. Yet, one small girl set his heart beating in a way he’d never experienced. Perhaps he was getting old. He should get it checked.
But he knew better. He was in perfect health.
It was her, Saskia Koba.
She’d caused his heart to speed up. She’d caused him to hesitate, to pull back. To change his plans.
He’d planned on taking the girl. Now, today, from the library. He was going to take her out from under the nose of her cousin, the way Koba had stolen his sister.
But something had stopped him. Not something. Someone. Saskia. The strange little mobster girl who was studying to become a translator.
He wanted to take her. Badly. And that was what stopped him.
He was confused by his reaction. It was instant, and he didn’t enjoy having feelings he didn’t understand. He’d spent years eradicating his feelings as he was forced to commit unspeakable atrocities in the name of his country.
Then he realized why he couldn’t take her. She was an innocent, and he hadn’t been prepared for that. She’d pulled a gun on him, but she hadn’t shot him. She’d stared at him as though seeing a monster, and he saw himself through her eyes.
He couldn’t be the monster who destroyed her world. Not yet. He would come back for her. Give her time to grow up, to finish her education and reach for her dreams.
He would take her when she was ready for him.
As he passed his men in the hallway leading to the elevator bank, he jerked his head. They’d relieved Koba’s men of their guns. Not their fault. They’d been ambushed. Hadn’t time to react to men used to moving stealthily through the bush before they were surrounded.
Radik’s men fell into step behind him, and the trio waited until the elevator dinged the arrival of the car that would take them to the ground floor. They got on and Radik turned just as Saskia came running around the corner, her shoes screeching as she turned on the spot and sprinted for the elevator.
He got a full view of her in person and, again, his heart stuttered in his chest.
She wore jeans that were torn at both knees, a baggy black T-shirt under a short jean jacket and red high-top runners. Her chestnut brown hair was spiked on top and pinned back at the sides. Her ridiculously huge earphones
were still on.
One of her bodyguards grabbed her as she tried to pass them and pressed her back against the wall, covering her with his body.
Radik nodded. If the man hadn’t done that, he’d have gotten off the elevator and put a bullet in him. He was pleased the men were competent, if a little slow. He knew Koba would quickly whip them into shape.
The elevator doors began to close and Radik sought the small, compact woman struggling against her bodyguard. She froze as their eyes met, and he could tell her heart was beating as hard as his. The doors closed, blocking his view of her.
He would find her again when the time was right.
Chapter Fifty
Jozef sat in the window of his hut, looking out at the incredible cerulean blue of the ocean beyond. When Shaun had found out that Jozef had never spent time near the ocean, except briefly when he was on mission, she’d insisted they choose an oceanside setting for their honeymoon.
It had been four months since Jozef had murdered his aunt, and he still thought about that moment. Her confessions, her reaction to his being there. He felt intense anger when he thought of her killing his parents and her attacks on Shaun, but time had given him a better perspective. She’d grown up in the mafia. She’d been highly intelligent and motivated. Like Jozef, like his uncle, like the best in the business.
Perhaps if she’d been born a man, given her own organization to play god with, she might have channeled her abilities into better use.
Her death made him think long and hard about himself. He wasn’t much different. He killed too. She used death and destruction to manipulate while he used it to make money and further his goals.
It was through skill, force of will and chance that he’d made it onto the winning team, while she’d lost the game. The game was mafia, the prize was life, money and power. The loser died.
His gaze drifted from the ocean to the woman sprawled naked across the bed.
Shaun had kicked the covers off during the night, the hot Filipino night giving her skin a beautiful sheen. Her face was turned away from him so he could only see her mop of messy hair, her fragile neck, the delicious curve of her back, an ass that made his hands itch with the need to fill and squeeze, to long curvy legs. One was straight, while the other was bent.
She was his saving grace.
Her love for him made him want to be better, made him more thoughtful, more careful.
If she asked him to quit the Bratva tomorrow, he thought he might.
He would do almost anything for this woman. The weapons, the money, the power. None of it meant anything if he didn’t have her. She was his prize in a lifetime of death and destruction.
Though he was certain she would prefer he quit being part of the mafia, he was also certain she understood the dangers involved. No one left the mafia. Not alive, anyway. If they wanted to leave, they would have to leave everything. Their families, their lives. They would have to go on the run, looking over their shoulders until the day the Bratva caught up with them.
So, instead of asking him to quit, Shaun adapted. And she did it beautifully. She did it by integrating herself into the organization as much as he was, while still keeping her hands clean.
She was the Bratva angel, the doctor who saved lives.
She’d saved the life of Ivan Siberia’s great grandson by referring him to a top cardiologist, giving the old man three more months with his pride and joy before dying in his bed at 99. Now, word had gotten out that Shaun could solve almost any medical problem and members of the Bratva were flying her all over the place.
She was doctor to the Bratva now.
At first, Jozef had been concerned. What happened if she couldn’t fix someone? Would she be sacrificed? Jozef had stepped in, negotiating an ironclad contract with Ivan before he died, signed by both Alexei Ivanov and Yuri Antonvich. Shaun could choose her patients and she would be allowed safe passage no matter where she went, who she saw, or the outcome of the treatment. Jozef and his men would act as her bodyguards.
So far, she’d treated two Bratva wives, one very stubborn Bratva elder who suffered from sleep apnea and a child with a broken leg. Though Shaun was specialized as a neurologist, she always seemed to either know the treatment or know who could help. The gifts of thanks Shaun had been given were absurdly over the top. She’d been given a yacht, which she hadn’t known what to do with. It was still docked near St. Petersburg.
She continued to work at the hospital in Prague, working closely with her doctor friend. The two women were updating the neurology department, using a generous donation from Jozef to the hospital, earmarked for neurology. She was busy, but she was happy, and her happiness made Jozef content.
He was quite busy himself, though Shaun would always be his priority. He’d filled out two teams of mercenaries and sent them on frequent missions. Havel was head of the elite team, which also included Halil, who’d fully recovered, Terek, Ayaan, and Cooper. Jozef occasionally joined them for missions, but now that he was head of the Koba organization, he was forced to stay home more often than not. Shaun made an excellent consolation prize.
Havel and his team were on a mission now, which was what had Jozef up early. This one was personal and he didn’t want to sleep through the call, confirming they had their target.
He stood and walked to the bed, careful to keep his tread light. Not that it would matter, Shaun slept like the dead. He was amazed by her ability to close her eyes and simply fall asleep no matter where she was and what was going on around her. Jozef had spent many pleasant hours watching her.
He set his phone on the table beside the bed, next to his gun.
He crawled onto the bed, a predator stalking his prey. He was going to eat her up.
She was twisted sideways on the bed, so he started at her feet, pressing his lips to the delicate arch. He grinned when she curled her toes in reaction but didn’t wake up. He grazed his mouth against her ankle, then higher, across her smooth ebony legs, moving higher to her incredibly luscious ass. He lingered there, playing with the round globes, filling his hands as he’d longed to do earlier.
He worshipped her, running his fingers up her spine and across her shoulders. He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and gently rolled her onto her back so he could start all over with the front of her body.
Her eyelashes fluttered but didn’t lift. She tossed an arm over her head and tucked her face into the curve of her elbow.
Jozef took advantage of her sleepy sprawled position by touching, kissing, licking and biting every part of her until she was squirming and starting to wake up.
He paid close attention to her breasts, playing with her turgid dark nipples before sucking the pert breast into his mouth. He loved that it was small enough to fit, loved the sensation of her wet little nipple against the top of his mouth. He used the edge of his teeth to drive her crazy.
Her eyes popped open as he separated her thighs and settled between her legs. She became fully aware at the first swipe of his tongue against her already engorged clitoris.
“Jozef!” she gasped, her hips surging upward involuntarily.
He gripped her, wrapping his hands around her hips and digging his fingers into her ass cheeks, holding her still for his feasting pleasure. He licked up every bit of cream she provided for him, then set about making more.
She cried out as her orgasm washed over her, her sweet voice telling him it was time to take his prize.
He climbed up her body, interlacing his fingers with hers and dragging her arms over her head. He took her lips in a fierce kiss as he surged inside her, stretching her, filling her. The warm walls of her pussy beckoned him home.
They stayed like that, unmoving as he allowed her to strangle his cock, milking him. They stared at each other, their silent language flowing between them, speaking louder than any words could.
He moved within her, at first slow, taking his time, building them both toward their crescendo, then faster, their hips slamming together, filli
ng the room with their own private music. She came first, as it should be, her scream of pleasure the best thing he’d ever heard.
He followed her over the edge, dropping his head to hers, pressing his forehead against hers, gripping her hands tightly.
When they finished, they lay side by side, their bodies glistening as the bright morning sun crawled across the floor of the hut and onto the bed.
“Come on, I’m hungry.”
Shaun began poking him to get his attention. He grabbed her hands, rolled her onto her back and tickled until she cried out for mercy.
They showered together, signing about what they would do for the day.
They were on one of the islands of the Philippines. Jozef had men on the island with him, protecting their backs while they honeymooned, but they were ordered to keep their distance. So far, he hadn’t caught sight of a single one of them, which meant they were earning their keep.
Shaun wanted to go on a catamaran tour of a neighbouring island, then eat at a beach barbecue the locals had told her about.
She’d fit right in once they arrived, absorbing the culture and learning some of the language.
Together they walked up the beach, purchasing some jasmine rice and meat wrapped in banana leaf. They booked their tour and while they waited for the boat, they ate their breakfast.
Later, Jozef relaxed on the beach, sitting in the sand, leaning back against a tree. He watched Shaun, crouched in the sand with a rapt audience of local children surrounding her. She was teaching them sign language while they made castles in the sand.
She adored children, and it looked like the feeling was mutual.
Jozef decided then and there that he would do whatever it took to make her a mother. They could adopt or find a surrogate. But she wouldn’t go through her life without knowing the joy of children. She had so much love to give, and Jozef wanted to share that love.
He’d been a child in need once. Perhaps if he’d had a mother who cared, he might not have turned out to be a ruthless killer. Then again, fate liked to have her way. And if this was the life he was meant to have, he wouldn’t complain.
Goodnight, Sinners (Sinner's Empire Book 3) Page 31
