The War King

by Jeana E. Mann

  “It must have been traumatic.” Her hand touched mine. I was getting through to her. It became more important than ever to make her understand why Kitzeh meant so much to me.

  “Everyone with the Menshikov name had been executed, but a few of my relatives hid, changed their identities, and continued to talk about reclaiming control of the country. I left with a new understanding of who I was and the gravity of my responsibilities.” The pain of those days brought a lump to my throat. It felt good to share my history with her.

  “I don’t know what to say.” Her fingers threaded through mine. I yearned to pull her close but hesitated, not wanting to lose the ground I’d gained.

  “You don’t need to say anything. I just wanted you to know.” The elevator passed the ground floor and continued its descent, taking us into the heart of my hidden world. When the doors opened, there would be no turning back for either of us.

  Chapter 12

  Rourke

  The elevator doors opened into a vault-like room. Roman strode to the sliding metal doors on the far wall and gazed into a retina scanner on the wall. A green light flashed. Metal locks clicked. Sliding doors parted, revealing an observation deck.

  “Come in.” He beckoned me with a twitch of his fingers.

  “Fuck me,” I whispered. We stood in front of a glass wall overlooking a state-of-the-art command center. Below us, people milled between rows of computer monitors. Large flat-screen TVs covered the farthest wall, displaying satellite images. My heart began to clang against my ribs. “What—what is this?”

  “This is my war team. They facilitate the movement of arms between countries. They coordinate the transfers, track the shipments, and cover our tracks when necessary.” His harsh, exhaled breath made me flinch. With his chin lifted and shoulders thrown back, he surveyed the chaos on the floor.

  “You operate out of a Manhattan luxury condominium building?” My voice came out too high and thin. I cleared my throat.

  “Why not? I own the building.” He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. Excitement hummed through his touch. “It’s easy enough to cover up our comings and goings through the service entrances. Some of these people live here. They know how to blend.”

  My mind struggled to wrap around the tableau in front of me. I scanned the workers, looking for familiar faces. “It’s like something out of a movie.”

  “But not nearly as glamorous, I can assure you.”

  “Are the weapons here?” I pointed to the polished concrete floor.

  “No. They’re stashed in warehouses across the country. I like to keep my assets spread as far apart as possible.” He turned to face me, staring down into my eyes, his expression unreadable. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m not sure.” Seeing the operation in action brought the situation home. If I hadn’t believed it before, I believed it now. This was real. Roman had an entire secret life, one I’d never dreamed possible.

  * * *

  After a brief tour, we returned to the penthouse. While Roman showered, I paced our bedroom in anxiety-driven exhaustion. On the balcony, I contemplated our future and drank in the Manhattan skyline. A distant flash of lightning streaked across the black sky. I trembled as the wind picked up.

  “You’d better come inside. It looks like a storm is blowing in.” Roman’s deep voice rumbled near my ear. A shiver raced down my back and settled deep inside my core. The simple sound of his voice made my heart skip a beat.

  “Yes.” Tiny raindrops plinked against the glass railing and splattered on my skin.

  “What’s going on inside that pretty head of yours?”

  When I turned, he was right behind me. A snowy towel hugged his narrow waist, the edges clutched in one fist. Droplets of water fell from the ends of his rumpled hair and slid over his muscular chest. “Nothing.” I bit my lower lip to suppress a gasp of surprise at his nearness.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He rubbed a hand over his bare chest and the smattering of curly black hair covering his sternum.

  “You need a shave and a haircut,” I said, moving away from him, putting distance between us. My fingers curled, itching with the need to rake his black locks away from his forehead. His appearance reminded me of the night I’d met him at the Masquerade de Marquis: dark, dangerous, and brimming with mystery.

  “You don’t like it?” He ghosted my steps, keeping us within an arm’s length of each other. The scent of his shampoo and shower gel followed his movements. “I’m thinking about keeping the beard.”

  “No. I mean— Um— Yes. I like it. But it’s just—just not your usual style.” Cool, hard drywall hit my backside. I swallowed, unable to break his mesmerizing hold on my gaze.

  “The barber has been the last thing on my mind lately.” He ruffled a hand through his hair, sending a spray of water onto the front of my dress. The drops made small dark circles on the pale silk. We were less than six inches apart. His glance roamed over my heaving breasts before coming back to my face. “You look good in blue. Good enough to eat.”

  “Thanks.” The solidity of my knees dissolved as he closed the remaining distance between us. From the first time we’d met, he’d had this effect on me. My nipples stung with a sudden rush of desire.

  “Something’s changed about you. I’m not sure what it is, but I like it.” He leaned forward to brace a hand on either side of my head. The towel whispered to the floor, leaving him naked. He kicked it aside. Our body heat mingled, raising my temperature several degrees, but it was nothing compared to the fire building inside me. I’d forgotten how raw and charismatic he could be at times like these—when he wanted me. The firm line of his jaw and the rapid flutter of his pulse at the base of his throat suggested I had the same effect on him. Power flooded through me, and the sensation was more intoxicating than any drug.

  “I had Christian design a new look for me.” To curb the trembling of my hands, I pressed my palms against the wall beside my hips.

  “Very nice. I approve, but I’m referring to something else, something inside you.” His breath puffed against my ear. He punctuated his words with butterfly kisses on my ear. “And it’s very, very sexy.”

  “Thank you,” I said, feeling a flush creep up my neck.

  “Do you know how much I love you, Rourke?” His voice lowered to a deadly whisper. We were nose to nose now, his lips close enough to send a tingle of need to my mouth. “The whole time we were apart, I thought of nothing but you and all the different ways I’d fuck you when I got you back in our bed, how I’d never again take our relationship for granted.”

  “Really?” I asked, unable to hold back a note of sarcasm in my voice. “Because that’s not at all how it’s looked.”

  Using his thumb and forefinger, he trapped my chin, forcing my gaze back to his. “You’re always the first thing on my mind. Never doubt it.” When I didn’t respond, he curled one of his hands around the nape of my neck and placed the pad of his thumb on my jugular, stroking and tracing the delicate vein. My pulse thudded against his touch. Without my permission, my hips came forward, drawn by his magnetism. His cock stood straight up, the head resting below his belly button. I moaned and closed my eyes to ease the torment building between my thighs. “You can deny our chemistry all you want, but your body is mine, Rourke. It belongs to me.”

  I opened my eyes and met his gaze. After we’d exchanged our wedding vows, I’d mistakenly thought the game of power had ended between us. It still existed, but the game had changed. I lifted my chin. “My body belongs to me.” Temper flared in his navy irises at my denial, followed by a brief flicker of uncertainty. With my left hand, I gripped his shaft and tugged, pulling him closer to me. He grunted in surprise. “But I’m giving it to you—willingly.”

  “I accept.” His mouth slammed against mine. Weeks of waiting and wanting had left me overheated and needy. Our dalliance at the Devil’s Playground NYC had only served to fuel my lust. I whimpered and clutched his damp hair. Our tongues dueled in a ba
ttle for control. Using every inch of his torso, he pressed me to the wall. My breasts flattened against his bare chest. Through the thin fabric, the heat of his body seared my skin. When he pulled back, my chin and mouth tingled from the scrape of his beard. He fisted a hand in the hair at the nape of my neck and angled my head to the side, baring my throat to him. “I’d like to take a bite out of you. Right. Here.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” I replied, knowing he could do anything he wanted to me, and I’d be powerless to stop him.

  In one swift motion, he hoisted me to his shoulder. With my torso dangling over his back, I had a premier view of his taut, bare ass. I gave it a hard slap. He responded by dumping me on the bed. I bounced on the plush mattress, too startled to respond.

  “Let’s see who’s in charge of whom,” he said. Grabbing my ankles, he yanked my legs apart and pulled me to the edge of the bed. The hem of my dress gathered around my waist, exposing my waxed and pantyless sex to his gaze. The tip of his tongue slid over the stretch of his bottom lip. “Mrs. Menshikov, I’m shocked. Good thing I didn’t know about this in the car. I would have fucked you right there, in front of Jose.”

  I struggled against his hold, trying to crawl backward up the bed while simultaneously tugging down my dress. In response, he flipped me onto my stomach, knocking a startled giggle out of me and shocking me with his strength. He pressed a hand into the small of my back until I quieted, then came onto the mattress with me, nudging my legs wider with his knees. I gasped at the glide of his fingers along the insides of my thighs and the occasional brush of his knuckles against my throbbing pussy. “What are you doing?”

  “Surveying my kingdom,” he mused, dryly. His claim made my inner walls flutter in pre-orgasmic anticipation.

  “You mean, my kingdom.” I gave an ineffective kick of my legs. “You’re trespassing.”

  “As I recall, you gave me the keys to your kingdom a few seconds ago. Willingly.” His chuckle brought a flush of heat to my face. One of his fingers slipped through my wetness, teasing my entrance. I loved serious and enigmatic Roman, but I loved his playful side even more. Amid the rush of hormones and endorphins, it was hard to remember why I’d ever been angry with him. “Rourke? Are you listening?” A stinging slap on my bottom regained my attention.

  “Yes.” The burn of his palm print added a new layer of desire to my excitement. I vowed to let the night take its own direction. Consequences be damned.

  “On your knees.” He drew me onto his lap, my legs straddling him, the backs of my thighs resting on the tops of his. I leaned into the solidity of his torso. The wiry hairs of his chest tickled along my spine. Warm, strong hands cupped my breasts, thumbing the nipples, teasing me. “Better?”

  “Everything is better when I’m with you.” And it was true. During our time apart, I’d been half a person. Here in our bed, I remembered why. No one compared to him, to the feel of his hands on my body or the overwhelming desire he roused within me. I loved the way he challenged me and fought with me and brought excitement to my life, both emotionally and physically.

  “I love you,” he whispered before raining kisses along my neck and shoulders.

  He spread my knees wide. Cool air brushed against my naked skin. I tried to close my legs, feeling exposed and vulnerable, then stopped myself. Needing reassurance, I turned to look at him over my shoulder. He dragged the head of his cock along my sex and pushed inside, slowly, one inch at a time. The burn and stretch of my body adjusting to his made me shudder. He smiled, and my heart melted. I lifted a hand to the back of his head and drew his mouth down to mine.

  We rocked together in slow, intense rhythm. He’d never been so deep inside me before. Or so rock hard. His ragged breathing spurred my excitement. I lost myself in the slide and glide of his erection through my silky skin, desperate to scratch the itch of need that had been simmering since our estrangement. Who was I kidding? I needed him the same way I needed air to breathe. The realization made me panic. “Wait.”

  He froze. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” I uncoupled our bodies and turned to face him. Lines of worry etched his forehead. I smoothed them out with my fingertips. “I need to see you.”

  He smiled and threaded his fingers through mine before drawing my knuckles to his lips. Carefully, I lowered myself onto him. We clung to each other, his arms around my waist and mine around his neck. He nuzzled my ear. “I’ve shown you my worst. Are you sure you still want me?”

  “It’s never been about not wanting you.” I took him deeper, pushing down until we were irrevocably joined. Through the open balcony doors, a police siren wailed, growing louder then dying away in the distance. “It’s about whether or not we can find common ground.”

  “As I said, I’m open to negotiations,” he said and moved me onto my back, keeping us joined. “But I have to warn you. I don’t fight fair either.”

  Chapter 13

  Rourke

  The next morning, I awoke to find Roman standing beside the bed, fully dressed. The loose ends of his red tie hung around his neck. He threaded his cufflinks through the holes of his sleeves, a task I’d watched him perform a hundred times before but now found overwhelmingly endearing. A lump formed in my throat. I needed to tell him about the baby. He deserved to know. I felt guilty for keeping it to myself for so long.

  “Where are you going?” I asked, my voice raspy from sleep. I eased into a sitting position, waiting for signs of nausea, and exhaled in relief when my stomach remained calm.

  “To work. I’ve got a meeting with Nicky this morning.” With expert precision, he looped the tails of the tie through each other.

  “Speaking of Nicky…” At the thought of his recent douchebaggery, my blood pressure began to rise. “He came by your office yesterday. He knew you were in trouble and refused to help.”

  Roman’s brows lowered. “Really?” Blankness slid over his face. While his expression remained neutral, a muscle ticked beneath his cheekbone. He yanked on his tie, tightening the knot. “Nicky has his own agenda, Rourke. Never forget that.”

  Frustration welled inside me, threatening to crack my ribs. “If he’s such a problem, why don’t you cut him out of your life?”

  A small smile broke his mask of indifference. He smoothed his fingertips along the curve of my cheek. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Have you heard that?” I nodded and leaned my face into his caress, savoring the sweetness in his touch. “Family is family. We might not be related by blood, but we grew up as brothers, and I can’t disregard that connection.”

  Having lost my immediate family members to disease and tragedy, I understood all too well. “Can you at least control him?”

  A burst of laughter shot out of him at my question. “Damn, you’re a quick study.”

  His praised warmed my chest. I planted a kiss in the center of his palm. “I have the best as my teacher.”

  Catching my gaze, he sank onto the edge of the bed and smoothed my hair away from my face. “I’ll be in meetings most of the day, but I’ll have someone bring over my things from the hotel.”

  “Whoa. Hang on a second.” I hoisted the sheet higher to cover my bare breasts. “I’m not sure we’re ready yet.”

  “Didn’t last night answer your questions?” He groaned and stood. With measured strides, he retrieved his jacket from its hanger on the back of the closet door. “What more do you want, Rourke?”

  “I don’t know.” I raised my knees and wrapped my arms around my legs, miserable with uncertainty.

  “I’m not a patient man.”

  I snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

  He stabbed his arms into his charcoal pin-striped suit coat then yanked down his sleeves. “Now who’s playing games? If you need something, just tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

  “I need time.”

  “Time for what? I’ve confessed my darkest sins to you, and it’s still not enough. What more do you want from me?” In the act of buttonin
g his jacket, his elbow grazed the framed picture of us on the nightstand. It fell to the floor with a clatter. He kicked it under the bed.

  “Don’t yell at me.” The sound of his raised voice roused my temper. I climbed to my knees and sat back on my heels, preparing for battle. “And don’t be such a baby.”

  He growled and shook his head at the ceiling like he was praying for strength. In two strides, he was at my side and had my chin in his hand. “Listen to me. I love you. You love me. How freaking difficult is this?”

  I drew in a deep breath and met his stare with equal fire. “You need to learn that you can’t have everything your way all the time.”

  “Why not? It worked fine for me until you came along.” His nostrils flared with passion.

  I yanked my chin from his grasp. “Because it’s not about just you anymore. It’s about us. I’m pregnant.” I clapped a hand over my mouth, shocked by my confession.

  He backed away, running a hand through his hair and blinking like I’d slapped him. “With a baby?”

  “Yes. That’s usually how it happens.” I rolled my eyes and immediately felt regret. In my head, I’d revealed the happy news over a candlelit dinner or in one of our quiet moments in his study. Not like this. Not in the middle of an argument.

  “How long have you known?” He sank onto the edge of the bed and stared at the door.

  “A few days.”

  “Wow.” The breath left his lungs in a startled whoosh. I curled my fingers into fists and waited for his stunned expression to fade. “Are you sure?” His voice cracked.