by Jasmin Quinn
Michael grunted and he leaned to kiss Isabelle as the phone dinged again. He stopped, sat up and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. Several texts, all from the Russian. Each one more explicit. He tapped his fingers quickly, go fuck yourself. Then he shoved the phone back into his jacket. “Play time is over.”
He tucked his cock back into his trousers and stood up looking down at his beautiful treasure. A growl escaped him, something primal. Just enough to get her attention. She stretched her hands out to him and he pulled her to her feet but drew her into his arms instead of letting her go. He kissed her, hard and possessively.
“Let’s get this the fuck over and then go somewhere where we can stay in bed all day and dream up new things to do to each other.”
“Without your fucking sidekick.”
“Yeah, especially without him.”
Isabelle picked up her dress and underwear and walked to the bathroom. “I’ll be two minutes. She blew him a kiss and then closed the door behind her.
Chapter Fifteen
Anto was exactly where he said he would be. In the alley, behind the Beagle Pub.
“What the fuck is this?” Michael said as he helped Isabelle into a large white delivery truck with the word Portofino emblazoned on the side. It was a huge step up and there was only a single bench seat. Isabelle would be forced to sit in the middle between Michael and Anto. It wasn’t a good thing to have the two of them so close.
Anto’s eyes followed Isabelle’s legs as she clambered into the truck. Michael slammed the door behind him and threw Anto a warning glare. Anto grinned, shoved the standard transmission into gear and bucked forward forcing Isabelle to grab the dash to anchor herself.
“No one is going to be looking for a delivery truck, including the delivery man. And it looks completely legit coming out of the back alley of a pub. It would have been better if the two of you sat in the back, instead of the cab.”
Michael shook his head and sighed.
Isabelle looked sideways at Anto. “I’m not riding in the back.”
“Of course, you’re not.” It wasn’t clear whether Anto was being agreeable or derisive.
“We might blend right now, Anto.” Michael said dropping a hand to Isabelle’s knee to help steady her from the jerkiness of Anto’s driving. “But we’ll stick out like a sore thumb in Whistler.”
Anto tossed Michael a scornful glance. “You are a master of the obvious, my brother.”
“Where are we going then?” Michael massaged his temples with his free hand. Anto was so very good at getting under his skin.
“To your Hilton. That’s where the other car is parked, is it not?”
“Yeah.” Michael nodded, forgetting his annoyance, appreciating Anto’s agile mind. “We can grab our bags so we don’t have to go shopping again. It’ll keep us out of sight and let us focus on planning this out.”
“We can eat too,” Isabelle said as she shifted toward Michael, her body leaning into his. He slid his arm around her. He didn’t care what Anto thought at that moment. He craved her touch, he needed her in his arms. Anto said nothing, just kept his eyes on the road as they bounced along in the delivery truck.
“Isn’t this a bread truck?” she added.
Michael and Isabelle jumped as Anto’s laughter boomed across the truck. “That was very good, Isabelle. And you are right. We should eat. I am hungry.”
“After we get the car,” Michael said.
“Yes,” Anto agreed.
Michael and Anto talked on their journey to Richmond, about Rusya and Jack Creed. Nothing too revealing. Nothing that Isabelle didn’t know already. Michael wondered why he was being so cautious with her. She was part of this world, she might already know. He looked at her as she settled into his chest. She wasn’t asleep, just quiet, thoughtful. What if he was wrong about everything? What if this was all a set-up to get to him and Anto? To get to Jackman?
What if Isabelle was part of the set-up? She was perfect for him. She was exactly the type of woman that would intrigue and seduce him. Jack Creed’s wife. Her fear of Creed was palpable, her desire for Michael real. But other than her word and Creed’s, what the fuck did he really know about her?
When they arrived at the hotel, Anto parked the truck in the delivery bay and jumped out. “Go get your things and I’ll wipe down the truck.”
“I’ll get the stuff. You sit in the car, Isabelle.”
Isabelle started to protest, but Michael shushed her. “You’re exhausted. You don’t need to do this. We’ll only be a minute.” He led her to the car, helped her into the back seat, kissed her quickly on the lips and then closed the door, locking the car behind him. Anto was waiting for him when he walked up to him.
“What’s going on? Not like you to leave that woman alone and out of your sight.”
Michael looked at Anto as they walked into the lobby and waited in front of the elevator doors. It was almost 2am The lobby was deserted. “What if this is all bullshit, Anto? What if we’re being set up by Creed and Savisin?” They stepped inside the elevator and waited as the doors closed.
“You think Isabelle is fucking with you?” Anto asked.
“I don’t know,” Michael admitted staring at the number panel as the elevator ascended.
“She’s not.”
“How can you know that?”
“Savisin doesn’t work that way. If he thought I was a traitor, he would have skinned me by now and fed me to the fishes. He’s pissed at Jackman for meddling in his business and he would seize any opportunity to get to him. But not through some elaborate game where he was depending on a woman to lead the chase.” Anto flashed a smile at Michael as the elevator reached their floor and its doors slid open. “Unlike me, he’s a bit of a misogynist. He wouldn’t trust a woman to pull this off.”
Michael followed Anto out of the elevator and led the way to his room, digging the key card out of his pocket. “What about Creed? Maybe he’s playing us all, including Savisin.”
Anto headed straight for the bar fridge, opened it and pulled out several one-ounce liquor bottles. He handed a scotch to Michael and unscrewed the cap of a vodka, tossing it back in a single swallow. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “I don’t like giving up secrets of Savisin’s that are irrelevant to Jackman’s cause, but I’ll share this one with you if it will help settle your mind about your fucking woman.”
“I’m listening,” Michael unscrewed the cap on the scotch and took a swallow.
“The list that Creed and Savisin want from Randall Scott has the name of the fucker who killed his sister-in-law and framed his brother for the crime.”
“And all the other names?”
Anto shrugged as he filled his jacket pocket with several of the bottles. “Shall I bring the wine?” he asked holding up a small bottle.
Michael shook his head. “Leave it. It’s shit.”
“The rest of list are names of men and their dirty deeds. Murder, mayhem, blackmail all done at Scott’s discretion.”
Michael whistled softly. “Why would Scott keep such a list?”
Anto suppressed a yawn as he headed for the door. “Maybe blackmail, maybe bad memory. Scott’s not so young anymore.”
Michael picked up the suitcases and scanned the room for anything left behind. “So you think Isabelle is clean, then?”
“That depends on what the two of you were doing before I texted you.”
“Anto!”
Anto sighed. “You’re pathetic, Michael. First Copeland and now you. Who will I go to strip clubs with?”
Isabelle was asleep when they returned to the car. Her shoes were standing beside her on the seat and her head pillowed by her arms, resting on the door. She popped up when Michael unlocked the car but seeing who it was, settled back down and closed her eyes again. Michael’s heart ached a little as he watched her. He hoped Anto was right. He needed to believe in her.
Anto, like the bull in a china shop that he was, threw their suitcase in the trunk an
d banged the lid closed, then yanked open the passenger door and slid in, slamming the door behind him. As Michael slid behind the steering wheel, Anto said with a yawn, “Get us to Whistler and then wake me up. I’ll tell you how to get to my place.”
Chapter Sixteen
Isabelle woke up long before she opened her eyes, chasing away the wisps of a nightmare, of Michael, his promise to her that he would keep her safe before he slapped her face and then beat her with his fists. She shuddered. She could hear a soft snoring – Anto, which meant Michael was driving. She should sit up and talk to him. He might need a distraction from the inky night, the monotonous road, the occasional flash of headlights. But she wasn’t ready to step back into the darkness that Michael represented.
Her dream threw her – Michael beating her. A promise of safety from Michael was the same as the protection Jack had given her. It could be withdrawn at any time, which made her so incredibly vulnerable. Michael, who treated her well compared to Jack, still demanded her submission to him. Right now, he seemed to like that she owned her mind and her words, but for how long? When would his treatment of her become inconsistent? When would she start walking on eggshells, not knowing what he wanted, how to keep him happy? Her life had become too precious to her. How could she step back into the world of powerful men who took what they wanted and either paid off or killed whoever got in their way. Michael was one of those men, and no matter what her heart told her, what her body craved, she still felt the pull of resistance. She didn’t think she could embrace that world again.
She wasn’t incapable of running and hiding. She’d been stupid to think that she had evaded Jack. It was because she had become complacent. After a year, when Jack didn’t come knocking, she thought she was safe. At the time, it didn’t matter that she was a married woman. She had no desire to be with a man, put her life or her trust in the hands of any man. Until the day that Michael moved in next door to her. She’d fended her feelings off for months, telling herself it was just lust. She hadn’t had sex since she left Jack, so she decided it had to be straight-up physical attraction.
But she knew she’d been lying to herself. There were plenty of hot men throwing themselves in her path. None of them turned her head or stole her breath the way Michael did. He took her heart from the moment she met him. That day, that very first day, he did something no other man had done when they saw her. He drank her in from head to toe, but then his beautiful brown eyes settled on her eyes, not her chest, not her legs, not her ass, but her eyes. And then he smiled.
Her heart melted but her brain screamed no. She tried to hate him at first, his charm, his knowing airs, the way he walked right through her defenses, made her pulse quicken, her belly burn, her pussy wet. She fought to save herself, couldn’t let another man own her, so she schooled her interest. Played it distant and cool. A woman out of his league, even though the truth was he was out of her league. She didn’t know all that much about him then, but she knew enough about herself to know she couldn’t match him.
She still didn’t know that much about him. He was this man of mystery, unwilling to open up to her. She’d left everything out there for him, but he stayed closed off, promising the possibility of an ‘afterward’. But why the hell should she believe anything he said? He didn’t trust her enough to share the details of his life. He was another powerful man, maybe just a little more generous when it came to fucking. She sighed out loud as she sat up and stretched her back. She was going in circles. She needed a distraction. “How are doing, Michael? Would you like me to drive?”
“No. I’m okay. You’ve barely slept. Try to go back to sleep.” His voice floated to her from the front, his face in shadows.
“No.” Isabelle hugged her coat tighter to her body. “I’m done with sleeping until I get a soft mattress and a hard pillow. I can’t afford to have a stiff neck or I won’t be as flexible as I need to be.”
She waited for Michael to turn her remark sexual, but he didn’t. Instead his serious voice filtered back to her. “Isabelle, I could do this. I’m not incapable of a little break and enter.”
“I believe you, Michael. But I’m better. The best.”
“Are you that good, Isabelle?” A trace of worry in his voice.
“I am that good.”
Anto grunted and sat up. Isabelle knew he had not been sleeping for a while. She suspected Michael knew that too.
“If I’m going to eavesdrop, the least you two could do is talk about something interesting. You almost put me back to sleep.” Anto glanced out the side window. “Where’re we at?”
“Another hour, I figure.” Michael said.
“I’m fucking starving. Maybe we could pull into the next service station and pick up something to eat.”
“Let’s not. Can you survive until we’re in Whistler? When we get to your place, I’ll drop the two of you off and go find us some real food.”
“I will try not to die,” Anto growled.
“I want to stay with you Michael,” Isabelle protested.
“Isabelle, you’re too memorable. Both of you are. Especially at this hour.”
Michael was right of course. He was always right. He knew exactly what had to be done in every situation. She wasn’t sure he wasn’t acting back at the lounge with Jack. Where he lost his cool every time Jack directed his nasty comments at Isabelle. He and Anto had been locking horns too, but once they were away from Jack and Savisin, it was like it never happened. No hostility, no mention of Anto’s assholeishness.
“You’re quiet Isabelle,” Michael said.
Anto shifted in his seat to look at her. To Michael he said, “She looks okay, she even glared at me, so I think she is not in crises.”
“I’m fine, you freak,” Isabelle snapped at him. Ugh. Michael was going to leave the two of them alone together while he went off in search of food. She shivered. Not only didn’t she like Anto, she was fearful of him. He was a fucking nightmare, unafraid of everything, disrespectful, no filters. Where Jack showed deference to Rusya Savisin, Anto showed indifference. It was dangerous, but it seemed to work. Rusya respected him, trusted him. She shuddered. Poor fool.
Then she had an uncomfortable moment when she realized that she knew about Anto’s double life. She held his life in her hands and after the job was done, she would not only be of no more value, she would be a loose end. It didn’t matter what Rusya promised her, didn’t matter that she could have safe passage out of Vancouver. It didn’t matter whether Michael was sincere when he told her he would take her away. Anto did what Anto wanted. She was nobody to him. He would kill her to protect himself, his organization, Michael. And he would dispose of her so that Rusya was none the wiser. She almost wept at how vulnerable she was.
She needed her own plan, not the one they would come up with together, she thought as she tugged her shoes back on her feet. One that ensured Rusya got what he wanted and she got safely away. If that was even possible. The lights of Whistler twinkled on the horizon. She was tired, hungry, maybe even a little hungover. She couldn’t think straight. Her only consolation was that Michael and Anto were in the same boat. They would need sleep before the planning began in earnest.
Michael slowed the speed of the car as they reached Whistler and Anto served as a human GPS as they made their way to his place. It wasn’t a condo or a townhouse. It was a palatial estate. A large house on at least a half-acre of land, surrounded by trees and views. “Wow” Isabelle said as she stepped from the car. “If this is your idea of a safe house, I’d like to see your real house.”
Anto grinned, his teeth flashing in the moonlight. “No, you wouldn’t, girlfriend of Michael’s. Because the only women that come into my real house are there for fucking. Unless you want that.”
“Knock it off, Anto,” Michael growled as Isabelle frowned and looked away. She could feel heat suffuse her face. He was such a crude uncivilized bastard.
Anto led the way to the door, Michael followed him and Isabelle trailed behind, gripping
Michael’s hand. As Anto unlocked the door and entered, he stabbed at the buttons on his alarm system, turning it off. He turned to Isabelle, “Can you turn off this alarm?”
“Of course, I can.”
“Show me.” He reset the alarm and then stepped back. “Turn it off.”
Isabelle punched in the same numbers Anto had used before and the alarm turned off. She stepped back with a superior smirk on her face.
Anto cocked his head to one side and rumbled, “You try my patience.”
“I observe everything of importance, Anto. If you didn’t want me to know the code, you should’ve hidden it from me.”
“If you didn’t know the code, how would you do it?”
“Why should I give up my secrets?”
Anto’s patience snapped and he reached for Isabelle’s neck, his monstrous hand gripping it tightly. He was so swift it a took a few seconds for Michael to react. He grabbed Anto from behind, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, and tried to drag him off Isabelle. Isabelle brought her knee up to kick Anto in the balls, but he evaded her and pushed himself forward, dragging Michael with him and slamming Isabelle against a wall. Pain shot through her body.
“Anto!” Michael shouted at him. “For fuck sakes let her go!”
And Anto did. As suddenly as he started his attack, he stopped. He shrugged out of Michael’s grip and slammed the front door shut. Isabelle fell to her knees gasping for air and Michael went to her, pulling her up and drawing her into his embrace. Anto glared at both of them, his lips curled. He pointed to Isabelle, “You are only still alive because Rusya wants it that way.”
“And me, Anto. I want it that way,” Michael seethed, but he kept his voice low.
Anto nodded. “I look forward to the day you get over this… this…” He struggled for the right word, then he shook his head. “I don’t even know what this is. I don’t know who you are, my brother. I fear I will be attending your funeral soon, if there is anything left of you to bury.”
