Bill snorted. “Just go with it, Liberty Bell. I told you his head is screwed on backward when it comes to you. These are great cookies. Them cupcakes look good too. Can I have one?”
“Of course,” she said. “Help yourself. Do you want to take some over to Gus?”
He nodded and went for a cupcake. “He’ll love them. Oh, pie! Those apple?”
“They are,” she said, moving to stand next to Rurik rather than behind him. Her hand skimmed his back, and she was just about to stop making contact with him when he grabbed hold of her hand gently. He held it while watching his father.
“Control yourself and behave. You are a guest here.”
Bill rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have a house to check for bad guys?”
“Da,” said Rurik, making Liberty smile as Bill proceeded to mock him in a rather poorly done Russian accent.
An exasperated look came over Rurik.
Liberty tugged on his hand, forcing him to glance at her. “He’s fine. Really. I’m not just saying that. And I think the house is okay as well, but if you really want to be sure, you can.”
“I do.” Rurik turned to face her fully, his gaze snapping to her lips. “There was much in the way of movement from more than one window, all at the same time. You’re one person. It couldn’t have been just you. And I need to make sure you’re safe.”
She stiffened, positive the movement he’d seen was her doing, since there was no one else home now.
Lowering his head, Rurik put his lips near her ear, causing excitement to instantly flash through her. “I’ll look around. Remain here with Bill.”
“Yes,” she said, her breath catching as her body heated. She was fairly sure she wasn’t agreeing to stay put, but rather to tossing her legs open for the man without actually saying the words. No amount of baking was going to bring her back from the brink of sexual insanity.
“Good girl,” he said, his lips skating over her cheek as he started to pull away from her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Pavel lay in bed, staring at the ceiling fan as he ran various scenarios of how his revenge would play out through his mind. The baby blue silk sheet covered only one leg, leaving the rest of him naked and exposed. A flat screen mounted on the stark white far wall of his bedroom was on its fourth run through of the torture footage Olga had made of the human she’d killed.
His mate didn’t disappoint in her torture techniques. She’d made the human whose name and occupation she’d used as an alias suffer for days before finally killing her. As he stared at the screen, excitement raced through him once again.
There was nothing quite like the look in someone’s eyes when they understood they were about to die. It was exhilarating.
Pavel didn’t care that the window blinds weren’t pulled and that his neighbors could see directly into his room this time of night. That they could see the footage playing and watch him having sex with Olga.
They’d assume the footage was a horror movie.
Not reality.
And he already knew they were perverse and liked to watch intimate moments, assuming Pavel didn’t know. He did. He could smell them—smell their arousal. And he could hear their sharp intakes of breath at pinnacle moments of fucking his mate.
It only managed to turn him on more.
Olga rolled, stirring from her slumber, her hand instantly finding his chest. She caressed the area and then dragged her fingernails over one of his many scars, hard enough to hurt—reminding him that revenge was close at hand.
Blood welled on his skin where she’d clawed him. She dipped her finger into his blood and then brought it to her lips. “Thinking of ways to destroy Romanov again?”
“Always,” he said.
She let out a sultry laugh before turning and exiting the bed.
He reached for her, wanting her to remain close. His fingers skimmed her ass cheek.
Glancing over her shoulder at him, Olga gave a wicked grin. “You’ve had enough.”
“Never.”
“Don’t you want me to check in with the teams?” she asked. “Aren’t you curious how your old friend is getting along?”
Pavel rolled onto his side and propped an elbow on the bed, watching his mate as her hips swayed back and forth like a calling card. “There are days I think you’re worse than me.”
Olga’s smile widened. “Oh, I know I am. You’re a snuggly teddy bear compared to me.”
Of that he had no doubt.
He winked and watched as she made her way to the closet. When she exited it, she was in nothing more than one of his dress shirts. The sight turned him on, and it showed.
Her gaze slid to his groin, and she held her head a little higher, clearly knowing the impact she had on him.
Her cell phone pinged from the top of the dresser, and she went to it quickly. Whatever she saw made her eyes light with excitement. “Looks like I don’t even need to reach out. They’re contacting me.”
Pavel adjusted himself. “What is it?”
She hurried to the bed, holding the phone out for him to see the screen. “You were right. The bait worked.”
Pavel took the phone and narrowed his gaze. Footage from a night vision camera was playing. It showed Rurik on the porch of Liberty’s home with the small human male.
“This is happening now?” he asked.
Olga shook her head. “But it’s not that old. Good call on sending some of the team into the house, being sure they could be seen briefly from the safe house. It clearly set off Romanov’s inborn need to protect his mate.”
Thrilled, Pavel found himself smiling—something he didn’t do enough of anymore. He continued to watch the footage of Rurik entering Liberty’s house. “Perfect.”
Olga laughed softly. “We’re so close to getting out of this hellhole.”
She’d never been a fan of the area. She wanted to be in Los Angeles or New York City, not North Carolina. Little did she know they’d be headed back to Russia if everything went according to plan. “We are.”
Her phone pinged and he held it out to her.
She eased it from his grip and checked the message. Her gaze slid to him. “They’re in place.”
He sat up quickly. “They didn’t engage, did they?”
“They would never go against your orders,” she soothed, sliding onto the bed with him.
That wasn’t entirely true, and he knew it.
So did she.
Olga was the wild card the other men feared. Not him. Until Pavel’s reputation was cleared of the stain that he called Rurik, they’d never truly respect him. Until then, he’d have to rely on the fact they were scared shitless of Olga and what she could do.
When he’d first sent her to PSI to infiltrate and get close to Rurik, he’d hoped her gift would be beneficial on him. The Russian proved to be too headstrong. As did most of the men at PSI. But there were some she’d managed to nudge ever so slightly, getting them to do as required in order to get Rurik here in Durham.
Vampires were easiest for her to influence because when they slept, their natural defenses against mental intrusion were down. The French one had taken her days of countless pushes, but she’d finally gotten through to him, encouraging him to consider Rurik for a light-duty mission.
And he’d played into their hands, doing what they needed of him.
“Check in with the other teams,” he said. “The ones assigned to the other women.”
Olga eased the phone from his hand and began texting. She was far more adept with technology than he was. Within seconds her phone was pinging over and over again.
Her eyes lit with excitement. “Everything is going as planned.”
“Tell them they have a green light,” he said. “The first chance the other two teams get, they’re to grab the females. And, Olga, remember what I told you.”
With a groan, she blew out a long breath. “I know. The Corporation wants them alive.”
“Yes,” he said. “They do.”
/> “I get to play with them though, right?” she asked.
He laughed. “If you’re a good girl.”
She pushed him onto his back before climbing over him and straddling his waist. Hunger burned in her eyes. “Are you sure you want me to be good? I’m so good at being bad.”
She was right, she was excellent at being bad.
He touched her chin. “Tell the team watching the house to be on the ready. We’ll make our move tonight.”
She texted instructions to the others and then tossed aside her phone before taking his hand and sucking on his thumb. “But first…”
Reaching up, he moaned as he opened the shirt she was wearing and then tugged on her, forcing her to bend so he could kiss her. First, he’d fuck his mate, and then he’d kill Rurik.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Liberty stood before Rurik in the kitchen as the smallest of whispers, deep in the back of her mind, told her to avoid doing anything else stupid and to just stand in place.
Ignoring the rational thought, Liberty gave in to her impulses.
She grabbed Rurik’s T-shirt and yanked him to her, turning her head enough that their lips met. It was as if someone had hooked her lips to jumper cables. A jolt of pleasure shot through her, and she moaned into his mouth as their tongues greeted one another.
You’re doing it again, she thought. You’re losing your damn mind over this man.
The flash of clarity left her jerking back. “Sorry.”
He glanced down at her hand, which was still clutching his shirt. The slowest of smiles graced his lips—lips she knew the taste of well. If the man wanted to save himself from her advances, he was going about it all wrong with that grin. If he had an ounce of self-preservation, he’d run in the other direction and never look back.
He simply stood there, way too close, smelling way too good.
It was as if Russia had manufactured a sex god, setting it free among mortals. Part of her wondered if she should send the Kremlin a thank you for letting him loose in America. Another part of her wondered if the Kremlin should have been forced to classify the man as a danger to women who wanted to keep their hormones under control and their panties on.
Pull it together, she thought, seconds before she was about to give in and start taking articles of clothing off, preferably his.
“S-sorry.” She released his shirt.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” said Bill as he laughed with his mouth full of what she was guessing was his second cupcake. “I interrupted a solo moment he was about to have with himself while he was thinking of you back at our new bachelor pad. Just like I said it would be, he didn’t even need any of my girlie mags. And I already warned you about making sure he washed his hands. Guess you don’t care where those hands have been.”
Rurik lowered his head and sighed again.
Liberty thought about what Bill was saying and then chuckled nervously. “He doesn’t have to make it a solo event. I’m willing to assist.”
Rurik’s gaze flung back to her, and his brows shot up.
Bill tipped his head and appeared far off in thought for a second. He then licked his finger. “Liberty Bell, Gus says I gotta go back to our place and to bring him some good stuff to eat. He says Rurik is gonna stay here with you. I think Gus wants me to give you both alone time so you can get to the sexy stuff. He should really just say that. I’m working on getting him to embrace his wild, kinky side. I should have Frenchie give him the sex talk. I’d ask Russia, but I’m starting to think he forgot what to do in the bedroom.”
Rurik made a move to go at him, but Liberty shook her head and moved to the pies. “He’s fine. Want to help me gather this up for him to take to your house?”
Rurik simply stared at her.
“Hello?” she asked.
He jerked. “What?”
Bill laughed. “I’ll help, Liberty Bell. He can go back to staring at your ass. Though I should be recording this. Duke would love watching it later.”
Sighing, Rurik glanced back at Bill. “I will cram an apple pie up your—”
Bill smiled and cupcake fell out of his mouth. “From what I heard, Duke was just as bad when he met his mate.”
Rurik glanced slowly at Liberty, a certain nervous energy filling the small space between them.
“What do you mean by mate?” asked Liberty.
“N-nothing,” stammered Rurik. “He means nothing.”
“Rurik?” she asked, concern filling her. “Are you okay?”
Bill laughed lightly. “He just needs a minute to let it all sink in fully and to figure out a great way to explain it to you. I think he caught a case of denial on the way over here. Happens to all his buddies. The government gave them big, um, chickens, but small brains when it comes to the women they’re meant for. I swear they spend more time trying to talk themselves out of the truth of what’s before their eyes than just going with their guts. If they went with their guts, their chickens would be much happier, much sooner.”
“Let what sink in?” she questioned, choosing to ignore the rest of Bill’s statement. “I’m so lost.”
“Nothing,” said Rurik, the word coming out as more of a question than a statement.
Shrugging, Bill focused his attention on Liberty. “I hope you have a lot of patience, Liberty Bell. You’re gonna need it with this one.”
Rurik swallowed hard as he stepped closer to Liberty.
Knowing she had next to no willpower when it came to the man, she craftily darted around him, pointing to Bill. She nodded toward a small shelf to the right of the sink. “Can you grab the basket off the shelf and hand it to me?”
He did as he was asked, and she began filling the basket with cupcakes and cookies. Within a minute, she was out of space in the basket, but did her best to creatively squeeze in more.
“The pies won’t all fit,” she said, giving up. “I can carry one over to your house.”
“Pies?” he asked, licking his lower lip. “As in we get more than one?”
She nodded.
“He better make you his wife or I’m gonna propose to you myself,” said Bill, causing her to laugh. “Hear me, Sput-Rurik? Don’t you fuck this up.”
“What a sweet offer,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re still on the market, Bill.”
He gave her a firm look. “You don’t know how hard it’s been fighting the women off me all these years. I’m kind of irresistible.”
She laughed more. “I can see.”
Liberty turned around, her intent to walk the pie to the living room. Instead, she slammed into an unmoving force, instantly flipping the pie forward as a soft gasp came from her. It took a second for her mind to catch up to what had happened, but when it did, she found herself pressed to Rurik—while the pie itself was pressed directly to his chest.
She’d not heard or sensed him moving around behind her. He was just there. Like magik. And now he was there with a pie smashed to his chest.
Rurik didn’t so much as flinch as he wore an entire apple pie. All the man did was stare down at her in an odd way. He began to lower his head as if he was going to kiss her. If he did, there was a higher-than-average chance she’d get naked and beg him to do her.
Bill appeared next to them and shoved a hand between them—scooping out a handful of pie. He then drew his arm back and proceeded to eat the smashed pie as he watched them with wide eyes. “Mm, this is really good too, Liberty Bell. Hurry up and work your charms, Russia. I want this stuff daily.”
Rurik groaned. “Sorry for him.”
Bill took another handful of pie and ate more. “Are you gonna kiss her again? I don’t know how this stuff works but seems to me that is part of the whole claiming-her thing.”
Liberty stopped caring about the man’s nonsensical ramblings. All she wanted to know was if Rurik was going to kiss her again too.
Rurik stared at Bill. “You keep saying that she’s my… That she’s…you know.”
Bill nodded but neit
her of them explained what they were talking about. “Frenchie hinted at as much. I got some good hearing too, you know.”
“Is this another case of you being a pain in my ass?” asked Rurik. “Or not? I can’t think straight when it comes to her.”
Liberty drew in a sharp breath but said nothing.
“It’s a case of me passing on information Gus thought you might want to have, but if you’re going to call me a pain in the ass, I’m not gonna pass on anything else,” said Bill with a huff.
Liberty stood there, pressed to Rurik, the pie still between them. “I feel like I should know what you’re talking about, but I don’t.”
Boldly, Rurik reached up and ran his fingers over her left cheek—touching her scars. His brow furrowed and he peered closer at her cheek. He skimmed his fingers over the faint scars once more.
That ripped Liberty out of her state of longing, causing her to back up hastily. The pie fell from Rurik’s chest toward his booted feet.
She reacted without thought, reaching out for the falling baked good, but not with her hands—with what she kept hidden from most everyone.
The pie stopped in midair about six inches from Rurik’s feet.
Panic welled in Liberty, bringing with it a loss of control over her curse. In the next breath, the potholders that matched her American flag apron flew across the room at Bill, who reached up nonchalantly and caught them. He tossed them on the counter and then bent, taking another handful of the still-floating pie.
He glanced up at her. “You’ve got to give me your recipe. Best pie ever.”
She stared from him, to the floating baked good, and finally to Rurik, before she then proceeded to panic more. For a second, all she heard was the sound of her heart beating rapidly as heat rushed through her and a sick feeling twisted in her gut.
Cookies began launching into the air as if they were being shot forth from a cannon, that just so happened to be aimed right at Rurik. One even managed to pelt Rurik in the forehead.
Taking a breath wasn’t an option because her lungs seemed to have forgotten how to draw in air. Her head was so full of fear that it was of no use in the situation.
Act of Surveillance: Paranormal Security and Intelligence® an Immortal Ops® World Novel (PSI-Ops/Immortal Ops Book 7) Page 20
