Weather the Storm (Security Specialists International #3)

by Monette Michaels

  “I expect you’d know that from past experience.” Elana grimaced and wove slightly from side to side.

  Vanko grabbed her shoulders until he was sure she wouldn’t fall over. “Yes, I know from past experience. Stand very still. I’ll dress you.” Which wouldn’t be as nearly as much fun as undressing her, but it was a close second.

  He picked up the designer jeans she’d worn into the store and bent down. “Hold onto me, Elana moy.” She placed her left hand on his shoulder. “Now, lift the right foot.” Her breath hitched as she raised the leg on her wounded side.

  Vanko growled under his breath. He was causing her pain.

  “Stop growling.” She rubbed his shoulder. “I’m okay, but I’ll want that pain pill. It does seem to even out the sharper pangs.”

  “God, you slay me. Such a brave zaychik.” He slipped the pants over her foot and cleared the material past her heel. “Now, the left.”

  Once he had the jeans over her feet, he pulled them up her long legs, stopping only long enough to place a reverent kiss over her mound through the lace and silk. It was a bold move, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “Vanko,” Elana moaned his name and sunk her nails into his shoulder. “Don’t tease.”

  “I’m not teasing. I’m very serious about my feelings for you.” Vanko stood and kissed the top of her head as he zipped and fastened the jeans. Then he checked her bandage and made sure it was undisturbed by the low-rider waistband. “I’m trying to be good, milaya moya. Everything about you does it for me—and God knows, you’re not up to what I’d like to do to your body.”

  She inhaled sharply and buried her face in his chest once again. He gathered her gently against his body, one arm around her naked upper back and the other around her sweet bottom. Her body trembled against his as she allowed him to support her. Finally, she angled her head so he could see her face. He inhaled sharply at the desire flashing in her eyes. His angel wanted him, too. He loved the flush of arousal on her cheekbones, it wiped away the pale exhaustion and pain, even if only for a moment.

  “Tonight, you’ll sleep in my arms—skin against skin.” He kissed her and then swallowed her low moan, taking her breath as his and returning it.

  After several all-too-short seconds, he released her lips.

  Elana, her words breathy, murmured, “Sounds wonderful.” She nuzzled his jaw. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

  “Lyubushka, it’s my pleasure.” He kissed a spot right under her ear and noted her shiver. She was so responsive to his every kiss and touch. He reined in the urge to caress her breasts in their sheer lacy covering and take their kissing to another level. Later, there was always later.

  Elana moved away from his body, and he reluctantly released his hold on her. She seemed steadier than mere seconds ago. She had an inner strength he admired; neither pain nor her enemies would ever keep this woman down for long.

  “Let’s finish our shopping and get something to eat and take it to the hotel,” Elana said. “You have to be tired, too.” She looked him over as if she wanted to memorize him. When her gaze paused briefly just below his belt, she blushed. “Um,” she coughed and her cheeks grew redder, “um, did you find more clothing?”

  Her voice was strained at the end, and he had to smile. He slid a finger over her heated cheek. “Yes, I’m aroused just being near you. But I have control over my sex drive.” He hoped. “It’ll be difficult, but I can wait to make you fully mine until after you’re healed.”

  He leaned down and kissed the spot behind her ear. Again she shivered. He smiled. Yes, a very sensitive spot. Then he tipped up her chin so he could see into her eyes. “Do you understand, dushka? You’re completely safe. I’ll protect you even from myself.”

  “Don’t. Protect me from you, that is.” She captured his hand and rubbed her hot cheek against it. “I’m sure we can find a way to be intimate.”

  Vanko smiled. “Elana, you need to know this…where your health and safety are concerned, I call the shots…always. We’ll wait until I’m sure you won’t tear your wound open.”

  Elana scrunched her nose and opened her mouth, he was sure to argue with him, so he covered her lips with his and kissed her. When she engaged him with her tongue, it took all his resolve to pull away. When he did, she mewled with disappointment. In apology, he brushed several light kisses over her forehead, cheeks, and on the tip of her very aristocratic nose. “Now, behave, Elana moy. I’m hanging onto my control by a frayed thread.”

  “We’ll discuss this control of yours later—in bed.”

  He chuckled at her words which were delivered in a tone a princess might use to address a peasant. She’d soon find he was the one in control in all things concerning their relationship, not just her health and safety.

  Elana pressed a final, biting kiss over his chin and stepped back. “Do we need to shop for you as well as finish my shopping?”

  His little rabbit was trying to take control again. He shook his head. She had spirit, and he looked forward to reining it in without breaking it. “No, dushka. I already gave the clerk a list of things to get for me so I could remain nearby if you needed me.”

  Elana nodded as she carefully eased into the thermal shirt she’d worn into the store. He gently brushed away her shaky fingers and guided the sleeve up her right arm and the neck over her head before aiding her in getting the left arm on. He allowed himself the indulgence of several sweeps of a finger over her breasts. Her low moan made him smile. Very responsive to my touch. Then he helped her into the cardigan sweater. She needed a coat.

  Elana tugged at the sweater sleeve. “How do I look?”

  “Beautiful.” And mine. He picked up the clothing she’d chosen and then opened the door. “We need to find you a coat. Maybe some snow boots.”

  She moved to his side. “We can get a coat and some more underclothing in this store. We can buy boots later at another store since we’ll be here for a couple of days.”

  He placed his arm around her, sheltering her wounded side against his body. Then he guided her through the sizable crowd Christmas shopping during the extended holiday hours. They stopped at the counter, and he caught the eye of the male clerk who’d picked out and then held his clothing. The young man came over with a broad smile, broad because Vanko had slipped the kid a twenty to make sure they’d get quick service. “Sir?”

  “We’re taking these. Add them to my pile, please.” He handed over Elana’s clothing. “We’ll be back in a few minutes with more items.”

  “Yes, sir!” The clerk took the pile of Elana’s clothing.

  Vanko followed Elana as she pulled him by the hand toward the racks she’d already hit once. She grabbed another pair of jeans and a blouse and found a ski jacket on sale, then led him toward the lingerie section.

  As she fingered sheer bras and panties, he groaned and figured his hard-on wouldn’t be going away anytime soon. He had to keep reminding himself she was injured and exhausted. Back in the dressing room, he’d almost lost all control when he’d seen the desire in her eyes and she’d returned his kisses so eagerly.

  It was then he’d created a mental “Elana bucket list” and vowed once she was healed, he’d take her shopping and make love to her in a dressing room. He was fairly certain the longer he knew Elana, the more sexual scenarios he’d add to the “list.” She inspired his imagination.

  Chapter 18

  Sunday, December 4th, 7:30 P.M., Comfort Inn and Suites, Washington, Pennsylvania

  Elana looked around their “suite;” it consisted of a living area, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The living area had a small kitchenette, a table and chairs, a television unit, a desk, and a pull-out couch covered in a faded, threadbare, blue-green plaid fabric. The carpet was blue, and the path of wear was dirty. The tile in the kitchen area was cracked and missing grouting, but looked clean as did the appliances and the counter. The television was a small flat screen and looked to be the only upgrade the outer room had had in the last fiftee
n years.

  After placing her messenger bag on the small desk, she entered the bedroom. It held a king-size bed with a bedspread in another pattern of blue-green plaid, faded from countless washings. There was a gas log fireplace surrounded by the ugliest yellow-beige brick she’d ever seen. Next to the fireplace, in the bedroom proper, was a round, blue Jacuzzi tub big enough for two people.

  She walked over and, even though the tub was sparkling, she spotted a spider web by the drain and several dead bugs caught in the filaments plus one very lively and healthy looking spider.

  Elana shuddered. The suite looked as tired and worn out as she felt.

  Vanko exited the bathroom which had a double vanity, a shower, plus the toilet. He came up to her and warmed her with his nearness and supported her by placing an arm around her good side. “I didn’t think this place would be so bad. Do you want to try another hotel?”

  “No.” She inhaled deeply and detected the odors of bleach and other strong cleansers used to clean the room; there was also an overtone of some room deodorizer—lemon-basil, she thought. “It smells clean. It’s just old and needs redecorating.” She angled her head and grinned. “Other than the two new flat screen televisions, that is.”

  The bedroom had a larger model of a flat screen, and she spotted an Ethernet cable on the desk in the bedroom. The hotel sign had also boasted of having free WiFi.

  “Televisions are very important, angel moy.” Vanko grinned back and kissed the tip of her nose. “Can you tolerate this room until check-out time on Tuesday?”

  She scrunched her nose. “Let me check the sheets first.”

  Dead bugs and spider webs in a tub were one thing; dirty, bug-infested beds, another.

  She walked to the head of the king-size bed and pulled back the threadbare, gaudy bedspread. “This has to go.”

  Vanko pulled it off without saying a word and deposited it on the bench at the end of the bed. She looked at the spot where the uncovered springs met the mattress, which was covered in both a mattress pad and a flat sheet. Both were pristine white, blindingly so. The perfectly mitered corners of the sheet indicated someone took pride in their work.

  “It’s clean. No bed bugs I can see.” She bent over as far as she could without hurting herself and eyed the floor between the bed and side table. “No litter or anything on the floor.”

  She straightened and let out a sigh. The pain meds she’d taken when they’d picked up the drive-through meal hadn’t taken complete effect yet. She’d been so hungry she’d eaten her food in the Hummer while Vanko checked them into the motel.

  Elana turned and found Vanko ready to take her in his arms. “We’ll need a couple of other blankets to replace the warmth the bedspread would’ve provided. And a couple more pillows so I don’t roll over onto my stomach.” She was counting on Vanko’s warmth and strength to cocoon her from behind as he had earlier today.

  Vanko grasped her upper arms and gently lowered her onto the side of the bed. “Sit. Rest. I’ll go to the front desk and get those things.”

  She nodded. She’d pushed her limits with shopping and then hitting a mini-mart while Vanko gassed up the Hummer. But they’d covered a lot of ground, met essential needs, and now would have some time to rest. The exhausting efforts were worth a little pinch of pain now and then.

  In fact, her head hurt worse than her wound. She probably had the beginnings of a cold. No need to tell Vanko about whatever virus she might have; he was already overly worried about her health.

  Vanko cupped her face and studied it as he stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. “You aren’t feeling well. Plus, you sound more congested than earlier today.”

  Busted. The man was way too observant. Living with such a man would be a challenge. It would be worth it, though.

  He brushed his cool cheek over her hot forehead; it felt wonderful. “You might have a slight fever. After I return from visiting the Front Desk, I’ll check your wound for signs of infection. If your temperature worsens, I’ll find a doctor for you. For now, you will take some ibuprofen before I leave on my foraging mission.”

  She covered the hand cupping her face. “Don’t worry so, sladkie. I probably had a cold before all this began on Friday. My wound is fine.”

  “I will be the judge of that.” He retrieved another antibiotic capsule and the analgesic tablets from the medical kit and handed them to her along with a small bottle of orange juice. “Take these and then lie down, dushka, before you collapse.”

  Vanko stood over her until she took the pills. Then taking the bottle from her and placing it on the bedside table, he nudged her until she sat further back on the bed and then helped her swing her legs fully onto the mattress. He fluffed the three layers of decorative pillows most hotels felt were needed these days—even worn-down, economy hotels such as this one—and then helped her lie back against them.

  As he removed her ankle boots and then massaged her cold feet, he asked, “What else do you need before I make the trip to the front desk?”

  “My messenger bag. I left it in the other room.”

  Vanko stood up and then pulled the sheet and single blanket over her legs. “I’ll bring that and give you the controller for the very nice, new flat screen. See if you can find any news on the various shootings.”

  Ren had updated them during the drive out of D.C. Sadness swept through her at the thought of the dead deputy in Virginia and the one who was critically injured. But she was glad the men who’d shot at her were dead, and if she went to hell for being happy about their deaths, then so be it. She’d save her grief for the innocents.

  Elana let out a breath. “Okay.” The word came out raspy and strained; she took a small sip of her juice and thought for a second she wouldn’t be able to swallow.

  Vanko hovered, concern creasing his brow. “Elana, are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She gave him a slight smile as she lied through her teeth. She forced herself to relax and after a couple of shallow breaths, she added, “I’ll also call my uncles while you’re out.”

  Vanko nodded. “Ren should’ve called them by now. They know you’re safe with me.” He went to the other room and brought her bag to her. “Is there anything else I should ask for at the front desk besides extra blankets and pillows?”

  Elana pulled another pillow over and placed it against her sore side. “Um, any free travel items they have—toothpaste, toothbrushes, extra shampoo, soap—the mini-mart wasn’t very well-stocked on personal items in travel sizes.” And she’d refused to buy large, economy sizes at over-inflated prices. “And ice. We bought enough food, drinks, and snacks.”

  “I’ll put away our food and then leave. After I’ve gone,” he leaned over and kissed her forehead, “do not answer the door.”

  Her breath hitched as fear reared its ugly head at his warning; the last few hours of normalcy vanished in an instant. “You think Demidas’s men could’ve followed us? How?”

  “I’m being cautious, angel moy.” Vanko sat on the bed next to her legs and ran his hand up and down her thigh in a soothing motion. “Everything depends on how the quality of intelligence our pursuers are getting and from where. There were security cameras at the Virginia motel. A good investigator could’ve tracked us to the ambassador’s residence.”

  Elana hadn’t even thought of the omnipresent cameras prevalent in today’s world. It scared her that even though they were paying cash and keeping a low profile, someone could still pick up their trail.

  Vanko watched her closely as if he were afraid she’d become hysterical. Yes, she was sad over all the death and afraid of her enemies catching up with them, but losing control wouldn’t help the situation. Plus, she refused to disappoint Vanko; he had some ridiculous notion she was brave—she wasn’t—but for him she’d do her best to be so.

  “Milaya moya,” he kissed her cheek, “the odds of anyone finding us tonight are very slim.”

  “And the odds of them finding our trail by tomorrow?” She placed her hand over
the one lying lightly on her leg.

  “Still low, but increasing. But we have an advantage in that we know where we’re going and they don’t.” He squeezed her leg and slid his hand out from under hers. “I plan to change vehicles tomorrow while you rest.”

  Vanko tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and then caressed her lobe. “We’ll be fine until Tuesday morning. Then we’ll leave around lunch time, travel into Ohio on secondary roads and then stop at a small town motor inn for another night to throw off our pursuers.”

  “When did you want to get to Chicago?” she asked.

  “By Thursday. But as we get closer to Chicago, our margin of error at being discovered grows slimmer. We’re a specific target. There are more traffic cameras and other kinds of security cameras in a big city. The eyes know what they’re looking for.”

  She shook her head, making the pain in her sinuses worse. “God, this is a mess. When will it all end?”

  “As soon as you identify the traitor, he will be arrested or run for his life. He’ll be too busy to worry about you. Crocker should go to ground to escape being caught and charged with aiding and abetting a traitor and as an accessory to murder.” Vanko stood, a grim look on his fallen angel face. “As for Demidas, I will get you to safety in Sanctuary and then I and your uncles, and possibly a team from SSI, will seek him out and kill him.”

  “I don’t want you killing for me,” Elana whispered.

  “I would kill him a hundred times for what he has put you through.”

  Vanko kissed her. It was gentle, sweet, and reverent. A warm feeling spread from her heart to her stomach—and to her ever-awakening sex. What had she done to deserve this wonderful man? And why hadn’t she done it sooner?

  He whispered across her lips, “I’ll protect you, Elana moy.”

  Elana looked into his gray-green eyes and found the truth of his words and the depth and breadth of the emotions he felt for her. He looked at her as if she were the only reason for his existence.