Weather the Storm (Security Specialists International #3)

by Monette Michaels

  Then it struck her. Everything that had happened in her life, both good and bad, since the age of sixteen had brought her to this place in time—had brought her to this man. She couldn’t regret any of it and would live through it all again to arrive at the same exact place—to be here with Vanko.

  “I know you will.” She kissed him back, opening to his reverential ardor. He then took the kiss deeper, tasting her and inviting her to taste him.

  Vanko finally pulled away. “My sweet angel.” He brushed another sweet kiss across her swollen lips and then straightened, taking away his heat, his enticing scent. “Now, rest. When I get back, I’ll help you get undressed for bed. We’ll settle in for an early night. We both could use the sleep.”

  She nodded and stifled a yawn. She planned on getting more kisses out of her man before going to sleep.

  “When you speak to your uncles, give them our timetable. I’ll call them with a final destination in Chicago once I get the address from Ren.”

  “I will.” Elana eyed Vanko’s lean, muscular torso as he moved toward the door to the hotel suite. Her gaze lingered over his tight buttocks cupped lovingly by well-washed jeans. She shuddered with a lust and need unusual for her and wondered what kind of lover he would be. Gentle or rough? Sweet or hot? Creative or conservative? And could she handle any of it?

  At this point, she’d take anything he wanted to give her, but knew he wouldn’t do anything more than kiss her tonight. He’d promised to protect her, even from himself.

  Dammit. She wanted him. Now. Tonight.

  For the first time in her life, she desired, lusted…needed a man to assuage the ache in her sex—and he’d vowed to take things slowly. Yes, she was wounded, but some pain had to be worth the ecstasy she sensed he’d give her. And her past with Demidas was just that—past. Her counseling had been very successful; it was her fault she’d chosen safe men to have sex with who didn’t “do” it for her. Obviously, all it had taken to jumpstart her sleeping libido and overcome any lingering fear of dominant males was one alpha-male Ukrainian with light hazel eyes, blond hair, and the build of a Greek god. Her mind, body, and soul recognized Vanko was not of Demidas’s ilk. Her primitive brain recognized its perfect mate.

  She was so-o-o-o looking forward to sleeping within the shelter of his arms. He’d promised skin-to-skin. She shivered in anticipation and wondered if she had enough nerve to make the first move. Suddenly she wasn’t tired or achy at all. Lust was an amazing drug.

  “Elana?” Vanko had paused in the doorway and looked at her curiously. “I thought you were going to call your uncles.”

  “Uh, yeah.” She blushed. He laughed. Had he caught her checking out his ass? “Go, you’re distracting me.” She waved a hand at him as she used the other to thumb-punch her Uncle Alek’s number into the phone.

  Vanko shook his head, a slight smile on his lips, then turned and walked into the outer room. She heard the distinct click of the hotel room door closing as she turned on the television to CNN and muted the sound. A weather report was on, and she saw the mass of white and pink hanging over the northern and western parts of the United States and the white and blue mass over the Mid-Atlantic states. Mother Nature had gone crazy, and she and Vanko were at her mercy…but then so were their pursuers.

  Alek’s voice came over the phone. He was the eldest of her uncles. “Talk to me.” His voice was so gruff she had to laugh. She always thought of him as the Papa Bear in Goldilocks.

  “Hello, Uncle Alek.”

  “Elana? Where are you, devochka moya? Are you okay?”

  My little girl. He’d always called her that. He’d never had children of his own, devoting his life to protecting and saving other people’s children from evil men such as Demidas.

  “I’m safe. I’m fine. I’m on the road to Chicago.” She kept her voice calm, though she noted a tremble she couldn’t quite contain. Hearing his voice had made her homesick, and, yes, brought back memories of a childhood that had been cruelly ripped away.

  She kept an eye on the news show, which now ran a story about Christmas shopping in a down economy. Where would she be this Christmas? With any luck, she’d be in Idaho with Vanko.

  “At least you are away from D.C. I spoke with Ren Maddox. He has brought me and my brothers up to date, but…” He sighed. “Your other uncles and I saw the videos. You were shot. You say you are fine, but…are you really?”

  “Yes. The wound was just a graze. Vanko is taking—”

  Her uncle interrupted. “Good, good. Petriv is a good man, none better. I thanked Maddox for sending him so quickly.”

  Anger and worry rumbled in her uncle’s voice. She could picture his thick eyebrows scrunched over his pale blue eyes as he frowned.

  “Where should Dima, Oleg, and I meet you? This traitor you overheard, a Captain Syd MacLean, has run like the coward he is. U.S. Intelligence does not know where he is at the moment. Interpol is also on alert and trying to locate him. His hirelings could still be after you.” He paused then, his voice was no longer worried, but angry. “Maddox says Demidas has you on his radar once again.”

  Shock left her speechless. She forced herself to breathe. The traitor had been revealed and was on the run? How had that happened? She hadn’t even looked at any pictures of him yet.

  Just then, a breaking news story logo flashed on the screen. The caption to the film confirmed her uncle’s revelations. Homeland Security and the FBI connected Captain Sydney MacLean to the killings in the Georgetown library, the Mall shooting, and the shootout at the hotel in Virginia. CNN flashed the pictures of the deceased deputy and the injured one. Her heart ached for their families all over again.

  “Elana! Devochka moya! Are you still there?” Her uncle’s voice sounded urgent. He must have been calling her name for a while. “Talk to me. Where is Petriv?”

  “I’m fine,” she gasped out. Breathe, dammit. “The news is on. I was distracted. How…how did they figure out who the traitor was? I was the only eyewitness. And who is MacLean, exactly?” Elana stared at the door and wished for Vanko’s immediate return. She needed him. He would make sense of all this. He would anchor her.

  “Where’s Petriv? He left you alone?” Her uncle’s tone was “how dare he?”

  Elana huffed out an angry breath. “He went to the front desk to get me more blankets, Uncle. He would never leave me. He’ll be back. Now answer my questions.”

  “Okay, little one. Don’t bite my head off.” He chuckled. “Maddox told me an anonymous caller phoned in MacLean’s identity to the Homeland Security tip line earlier today.” Her uncle grunted. “According to my sources at Interpol, U.S. intelligence had already had their eye on this man and several others in the DIA. As for who he is other than a traitor—he was the aide to the director of the DIA’s intelligence gathering division, a perfect place to collect intel to sell to the very enemies the DIA sought to defeat. MacLean fled late Saturday afternoon after an emergency meeting at the DIA, and no one has seen him since. He has enough of a head start to have left the country. Interpol is giving assistance.”

  She snorted. “He ran because his men missed their chance to kill me and I could identify him.”

  “Yes, that is the consensus.” Her uncle coughed. “Maddox fully briefed us up through your flight from the ambassador’s house. So, tell me about Petriv. Is he treating you well?”

  She hoped MacLean was caught soon. He deserved to die. When had she gotten so bloodthirsty?

  Twelve years ago, then again on Saturday afternoon on the Mall and again early Sunday morning at the ambassador’s home.

  “Vanko is taking excellent care of me. He is a good man.” A man she loved with all her heart and lusted after with a newly awakened sexuality, but she didn’t feel the need to tell her uncle all that.

  “That is good,” her uncle paused, then said, “Your uncles and I hurried as fast as we could to get to the U.S., but—”

  “Uncle, I’m fine. Vanko protected me.” She heard her other uncles
swearing in the background like crazy men. She’d forgotten how emotional Russians got. She’d lived in the U.S. too long and Vanko was cool, calm, and deadly when faced with danger. “Vanko wants you to back us up. He’ll call with the exact address in Chicago once he has it. Or, since you have already spoken with Ren, you can call SSI directly and get it. With the traitor revealed that might not be necessary now.”

  “Go to Idaho, little Elana. Demidas is a far more dangerous threat to you and cannot reach you there. SSI can protect you. This leaves us free to hunt Demidas without worrying about your safety.”

  “Okay, Uncle Alek.” Elana smiled. She now had permission to do what she wanted to do anyway—go to Idaho. There in the safety and isolation of the mountain wilderness she and Vanko could learn more about each other and explore the relationship between them further—after he helped her uncles hunt down Demidas, that is. Her uncles didn’t know it yet, but they had a new team member.

  Then she thought about an enraged Demidas, his agents, and her uncles. “Are you somewhere safe?” Elana’s gut clenched. “Demidas will come after you.”

  “We’re in D.C. at your apartment.” Uncle Alek’s voice was back to being controlled and matter of fact. “Do not worry about your uncles, eh? We are hard to kill.”

  She wouldn’t argue with the man. It hadn’t worked in the past, and she was sure it wouldn’t now. Twelve years ago, she’d begged her uncles to come with her and hide in the United States. Uncle Alek had told her “no,” because it would endanger her new identity, plus they had a job to do keeping men like Demidas off the streets of Europe.

  “I’ll still worry,” she added. “I’ll feel better once you are with me and Vanko.”

  “We will get a flight to Chicago as soon as we can.” He paused. “You landed in a nasty den of bears, little one, but we will not let you be hurt anymore.”

  Elana half-chuckled, half-sniffled. “Didn’t have much choice about where I landed.” Her breath hitched. “Vanko has promised to protect me with his life. I trust him.”

  “Elana—”

  She could hear the warning in her uncle’s tone and cut him off. “Uncle, I’ve been asleep all these years like a princess in a fairy tale. When danger caught up with me, Vanko was there to rescue me like a gallant knight. He reminds me of you and my other uncles. He’s a man who protects what’s his. You’ll like him.”

  That was one thing she was sure of—like recognized like.

  “I know Petriv’s reputation. He is a good man.” Her uncle exhaled loudly. “If you had to be with anyone in this mess—you’ve landed with the right one.” He paused and his next words were uttered in a growl. “But if he hurts you, in any way, he will answer to me and my brothers.”

  Elana had to smile. Her uncles would always have her back, but Vanko promised to have all sides of her. “He won’t hurt me. I know this in my heart, my gut.”

  She looked up as the door opened and smiled at the picture of Vanko laden down with the items he’d gone to retrieve plus some she hadn’t even asked for. He was providing for her comfort and well-being. A warm, gushy feeling began in her stomach then swept over her whole body. He was acting like a mate.

  Vanko looked at her over the pile in his arms, both concern and a question in his eyes.

  “Vanko just came back to the room. Let me update him, and he’ll get back to you later.”

  “Okay, little one. Be safe. We will expect his call. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye, Uncle Alek.” She ended the call and turned to Vanko who’d opened his mouth to speak, she cut him off, “I’ll report later, but first watch the news.” She un-muted the television.

  Chapter 19

  Vanko set the items he’d gathered from the hotel personnel on the end of their bed and then sat next to Elana’s legs. He watched in silence as the CNN reporters summarized the events since Friday night and how they all were connected to Captain Sydney MacLean, formerly of the DIA and now a fugitive.

  “Was MacLean one of the ones SSI had an eye on?” Elana’s voice quivered with some strong emotion.

  “Yes.”

  Elana sat, frozen, eyes fixed on the flat screen as a television reporter interviewed the Virginia deputy’s grieving widow.

  When her body started to tremble, Vanko moved toward the head of the bed, edged his way onto it so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders, and offer what comfort he could. “Why can’t they leave the poor woman alone, for fuck’s sake,” he grumbled.

  Part of Vanko’s anger was aimed at the media vultures, the other was aimed at himself for placing the 911 call that got the deputy killed. He could’ve found another way to distract Crocker and his men. He’d chosen the quickest and easiest for his needs.

  No, for Elana. You protected your woman.

  “Vanko,” Elana stroked the tense muscles along his jaw line, “sladkie, it’s not your fault. It’s the fault of the men who shot the deputies.”

  She read him so well. “Yes, you’re correct,” but he still felt guilty, “and now we know the identity of the traitor, and SSI will get him.” Vanko turned away from the television as it went to a commercial break. “What did your uncles have to say?”

  “Uncle Alek told me to trust you…that you are a good man.” She smiled. “But I’d already figured that out for myself.” She picked up his hand and rubbed the back of it across her cheek.

  Her trust warmed him to his soul. But she wasn’t telling him everything “What else, dushka?” he gently prodded.

  “He told me about MacLean before I saw it on the news.” She gripped his hand, “I was shocked…and relieved I wouldn’t have to pick him out.”

  She’d needed him at the time she heard the news and he hadn’t been here for her. Damn! He brought her hand to his lips and nibbled her knuckles. “Sorry I wasn’t here, zaychik.”

  “It’s okay.”

  It wasn’t. “What else did you talk about with your uncles?”

  “Uncle Alek and my other uncles will travel to Chicago to meet up with us. He’ll get the address from Ren or from you. Either way he wants to speak with you.” She hesitated and looked down at their joined hands, her fingers twitching.

  “What else, Elana moy?” Vanko stopped her restless fingers by rubbing them with his thumb. “Something is still bothering you. Did your uncle warn you against me?”

  He could guess what her uncle had warned her about. After all, Vanko was older and had lived in the underbelly of Europe. Alek Chernov wouldn’t want a man with Vanko’s sexual and life experiences around his niece. Only time and Vanko’s undying devotion to Elana would prove to her uncles he was worthy of their niece and wouldn’t hurt her…that she was meant to be his.

  “He tried,” Elana pulled her hand from his and then stroked a finger down the back of his arm, “but I told him I trusted you…completely.” But her uncle’s words had bothered her at some level, he could tell.

  “I’m happy you trust me.” Vanko recovered her hand. Her light touch was giving him ideas of which she wasn’t ready to be on the receiving end. “If that wasn’t the problem, then what is?”

  “Nothing.” Elana stared down at the bedclothes. “My uncles think I should go to Sanctuary for my safety. They want me as far away from Demidas as possible. If that’s okay with you?”

  Ahh, she was more worried about their future. Guess he hadn’t been clear enough earlier in the Hummer. Plus, with her history, she would need constant reassurance. He had received the impression the men in her life had either been abusive like Demidas or self-centered metrosexuals on the make.

  “Elana, I want you in my home. In my life. Period.” Vanko leaned over and brushed a kiss over her lips. “I want an intimate personal relationship with you. I told you this in the car.”

  “Yes, you did. I just can’t believe…” Elana’s voice trailed off and she looked away. “I’m a mess. Why do you want me?”

  Her fight to hold back tears made his heart ache. Did she believe he didn’t know his own mind? He’d
just have to keep telling her, showing her until she believed she was his love.

  “Come, milaya moya. Let me shift you over so we can be more comfortable.” Vanko stood and threw back the bedding, picked her up, then moved her to the middle of the bed so he could sit next to her without falling off.

  After fixing the pillows behind her, he sat next to her, his legs paralleling hers, his arm once again around her shoulders. It pleased him when she immediately relaxed her good side into his body and let him take her weight. He leaned down and tugged the blankets over her legs to keep her warm. “Comfortable, Elana moy?”

  “V-v-very.” She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder.

  “Now, let’s get one thing clear. You are not a mess. You are my sweet woman. What brought on all these doubts? Are you afraid of me pressuring you too quickly into a sexual relationship?” The sudden tension in her body told him she was worried about their sex life. “Elana, I am not those other men. I won’t hurt you.”

  “I know that.” She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him, so many emotions flowing through her eyes he couldn’t separate them out. “I want to live with you…have sex with you, but I’m…oh hell. I can’t even talk about it.” She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “You could do so much better.”

  She buried her face against his neck and let out a gusty sigh. Her breath against his skin aroused him. Everything about her aroused him. But she didn’t understand that, and it wasn’t something he could explain—it had to be demonstrated. Her past would always be there, lurking under the surface and rising at unexpected moments to throw her into bad memories. He’d be patient if it killed him.

  He kissed and nuzzled her temple. “Elana, I want only you in my life, in my bed. You can say anything to me. You can trust me with not only your person, but also with your thoughts and feelings. In our bed, there is no judgment. Understand?”

  “Okay.” Her voice said she didn’t, but she would. “I’m sorry.” Elana brushed a kiss over his chin and then yawned.