His Salvation: Cavalieri Della Morte

by Marta, Claire

  A glint of steel catches my eye. The knife hidden at his ankle comes at me in a flash. Dodging backward, I barely miss being sliced open. The distraction costs me. With an aggressive strike with his other hand, he sends my weapon flying to the floor beside the bed.

  Leaping to his feet with a sneer, he comes for me again. His free arm positioned in front of his body to block, he’s nimble, rapid with each slash ready to incapacitate. Avoiding each blow, I manage to catch him in the jaw with a punch. My next one is deflected. It’s a deadly dance. Both of us skilled and honed killers in a battle of survival. He doesn’t give me a chance to go for my gun. Side stepping a thrust to my chest, I grab his wrist. Twisting it violently, I don’t stop until I achieve my aim. Swear words stream in Russian from his mouth. Bringing his other arm around, he goes for my face. Swinging my own up, it bounces with force off my forearm. Finally, with enough brutal pressure, the knife goes clanking to the ground.

  With a succession of powerful blows, I send him staggering backward.

  Spitting blood, he rubs the cut on his swollen, bloodied lip with the pad of his thumb. “You’re good.”

  “I’m one of the mother fucking best,” I tell him with a grin. “You shouldn’t have accepted this contract. It’s become your death sentence.”

  His attention flicks to the knife to our left. Tension thrumming through my frame, I move a split second before he does. Diving for it, the hilt slides snuggly into the palm of my out stretched hand as I land on one knee. The weight of a body barrels into my right side. As a fist powers into my face, I drive the blade up into a wall of muscle. Twisting it deeper, my opponent screams. Crimson blooms over his shirt front as I yank it out and ram it between his ribs. The soft flesh gives easily, allowing me to bury it to the hilt.

  Legs buckling, he sinks to the floor.

  Rolling toward the mattress, I regain my feet while rescuing my gun. A cut above my eyebrow stings, scarlet blood flowing into my eye. The throbbing around the area a tell-tale sign of bruising. As adrenaline ebbs, there will be further aches and pains, especially from my stitched side.

  “They’re going to make you pay for this,” the Russian assassin’s words stutter out harshly. “Nothing quick and simple. You’ll be begging to die by the time my friends are done torturing you.”

  I stare blankly into his agonised, paper white countenance. “If they come for me, then all they’re going to find is a one-way ticket to Hell.” Lifting my weapon, I pull the trigger without any sense of remorse.

  Evelyn

  Using the remote, I flick through the channels on the TV with little interest. Everything is in Italian, and I’m not in the mood to try and work out the plot of a film in a language I don’t understand. The champagne is flat and warm, but it doesn’t stop me from drinking it. Raising the glass to my lips, I take a sip. It buzzes through my veins as my fury churns. Not only am I Kay’s prisoner, but the sweet old lady has become my jailer. I don’t understand how Laura can justify him keeping me here against my will. Then again, as I learned earlier, there’s a ruthless steel behind her fragile appearance.

  Spending the late afternoon helping her clean the rest of the flat, she’d diverted all of my probing questions on Kay’s sudden disappearance. Keeping me busy and chatting about her family, she’d effectively kept me distracted until dinner time. Alessandro had been busy installing the TV in the bedroom. I only realize now it was a small mercy to give me something to do. After a subdued meal of pasta, I’d been ushered into the bedroom with no other option but to comply. Laura had told me to trust Kay and his decisions before locking me in.

  Clicking off the screen, I lay the remote beside me on the mattress.

  How can she expect me to trust him? Stay timid and submissive with my life at stake? He’s given me no pledge that he’ll let me leave when this all ends. Kay may be physically drawn to me as I am to him, but lust doesn’t guarantee my safety.

  Sealed in tightly, I have no way to get to the front door. The drop from the window is sheer, and I’m not foolish enough to find a pipe to climb down. They’re also secured shut with no key. Getting anyone’s attention across the street has been impossible. I’ve found nothing useful in the room. Kay’s backpack I’d riffled through had only contained clothes, a toothbrush, the handcuffs and duct tape he’d already used on me. It has left me wondering if he intends to restrain me again. Shifting my legs under the blanket, my arousal at the thought distracts me. Maybe it’s the danger that I find exciting. Kay is a bad boy in all sense of the word. There’s no denying he’s handsome with piercing brown eyes that can make me melt under his stare. Sexy, broody, insufferable. I haven’t met a man like him before.

  Downing the contents of my glass, I refill it with more champagne. I don’t want to waste it. At least I can pretend I did make it to my hotel. That I’m basking in luxury and relaxing. The giggle that seeps from my lips sounds hysterical to my own ears. Who the hell am I kidding?

  The sound of a key turning in the lock has me stowing my glass on the bedside table. Blankets swathed around me like a shield, I wait in silence for Kay to enter. It’s late. The clock on the side table tells me that. I shouldn’t care where he’s been, but I don’t like being locked up like some kind of pet, waiting for its master. Readying myself for a verbal battle and his domineering manner, the sight that greets me dries the words up in my throat.

  He’s a mess.

  Blood stains his shirt. There are darkening discolorations around his right eye. It’s not enough swelling to fuse it shut but no less painful. His knuckles are bruised and bloodied where they hang by his sides.

  My heart seems to fall right out of my chest.

  “You’re bleeding.” Concern colors my tone.

  Moving toward the bed, he kneels slowly on the mattress before me. Gaze roving over him, I can’t stop myself from looking for further damage. It’s shaken me seeing him like this. Have the stiches on this side opened up? Was he attacked?

  “It’s not mine.” The tortured look in his striking eyes has my heart thumping faster against my ribs.

  Reaching up, I stroke his stubble covered jaw trying to soothe him. “It’s ok. I’ve got you.”

  I’m not sure why I say it, but somehow, I know it’s right. As if I understand his unspoken emotions or maybe it’s just the alcohol making me a little looser mentally. Leaning forward, Kay rests his forehead against mine. The change in him frightens me. He seems so vulnerable. A man. Not the hardened criminal I’ve come to see him as. I want to know what’s happened, but I’m afraid to ask. When his warm mouth finds mine, I don’t pull away. The kiss is gentle, hesitant. Not the plundering, assurance of earlier. As if he’s seeking permission. It melts any lingering thought of resistance.

  We pull apart, both taking shaky, shallow breaths.

  “Kay.” That one word holds so many questions.

  Intense eyes search mine. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Evelyn. That’s a promise. I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you safe. I just need you to trust me.”

  The vow rings true and determined. Whatever has happened tonight, it’s left him shaken.

  Inhibitions lowered by the champagne and with a yearning to comfort him, I lower the blanket wrapped around my body.

  Kay’s gaze devours my nakedness with a look. “You’re making it difficult to do the right thing. I’m trying to do the honorable and not touch you anymore,” he whispers. “You’ve been drinking. It would be taking advantage of you.”

  “Then do the wrong thing,” I tell him. “I want you, Kay. That’s my choice.”

  Palming my breasts, he plants another kiss on my mouth. This one tastes fierier and more passionate. The embers of the ardor he’s shown me before sparking into life.

  “Lay back, sweetheart,” he urges, his voice low and compelling.

  Reclining nervously onto the bed, I resist the impulse to cover myself.

  In growing anticipation, I watch as his hands reach for the buckle of his belt. Unfastenin
g them quickly, he pushes them down his lean hips. His cock juts free. Long, thick, and hard, it bobs toward me. Kay doesn’t waste time with anything else. Crawling between my spread thighs, the abrasive material of his jeans rubs my sensitive flesh. Knowing he’s still dressed and I’m naked only fuels my arousal. A wild thudding in my core, which had started from his first kiss, thrums with increasing need.

  The blunt tip of his cock presses against my entrance. Achingly slow, Kay thrusts languidly into me. Crying out, I clutch at his shoulders in confusion.

  “It’s ok. I’ve got you,” he murmurs huskily mirroring my earlier words to him.

  It’s not the furious and fierce coupling I’m expecting. Not the powerful explosion. If anything, it makes me even wetter than I already am. His hips moving in a gentle rhythm, it stirs me more than a stormy claiming ever would have. Engulfing my senses and setting me adrift in a sea of pleasure. The feelings I’m experiencing rock my head back into the pillow as he pushes his body into mine over and over. With each deepening thrust, he drags me under his sensual spell. He’s showing me another side of him. A tender, exposed, broken side. Kay’s fingers tangle with mine, locking them together on the mattress. Palm to palm, chest to chest, I feel his heart beating in time with my own.

  Emotions bubble up inside me. I can’t explain how beautiful this moment feels. Why it even should. It’s as if an unuttered understanding passes between us on a higher level.

  Our soft moans and gasps mingle in the stillness of the bedroom that encloses us.

  Finding his lips, I kiss him eagerly. There’s no holding back. All the pent-up attraction. The need he evokes in me comes spilling out.

  Delirious on the sweetness, a climax mounts within me fast. Fingernails biting into the cloth of his blood-stained shirt, I give myself up to the pleasure.

  Dropping kisses along my cheek, he fucks me with a budding urgency. Face buried in the crook of my neck, his hands free mine to journey along to contours of my curves to grip my arse. My name is a harsh cry as Kay shudders above me, inside me his cum releasing in hot, thick spurts.

  Dazed, sleepy, my fingers curl in the locks of his hair. Warm, harsh breath ghosting over my skin, he twists, pressing his forehead lightly to my jaw. He should feel heavy on top of me, instead I feel protected and sheltered. He plucked me from my life. Threatened and bossed me around yet here I am in his bed with him still inside me, giving me echoes of pleasure. It’s then I realize I’m not afraid. The fear of Kay is gone. It’s odd, but somehow, now, I know in my heart he has no intention of ever hurting me.

  Kay

  Warmth caressing my chest rouses me from sleep. Creeping in through the slates of the shuttered blinds, sunlight floods the bedroom and over the bed in a beam of brightness. Smaller body draped over mine, Evelyn is sound asleep. It’s a pleasure that makes me smile. Soaking in the sensation, I relive in my mind how she’d given herself to me so sweetly. I’d never intended to fuck her. Near enough midnight I’d expected her to be asleep. Instead she’d been waiting for me with flashing blue angry eyes. The emotion had vanished so quickly to be replaced with kind concern it had stolen my breath. It had been a calm to my chaotic thoughts. My unease at not knowing who’s behind the hit on my life. I’ve always been quick to temper. It’s forever been my flaw. Feeling helpless is not what I’m used to. After leaving the dead Russian and his victim, I’d driven around for a few hours in case I was being tailed.

  Hand gliding the length of her hair, it’s silky beneath my fingertips. Evelyn murmurs quietly, her thick black lashes fluttering against her cheeks. Shifting against my chest, her chin tilts up, her cute nose scrunching.

  Weakness is exploited in my world. A target for those with no morals, ethics, or code. You learn to bury your conscience. There’s no guarantee that when I enter a fight it won’t be my last. Through skill or dumb fucking luck, there’s a chance someone could beat me. Last night Evelyn had seen a side of me I don’t let anyone see. Past the armor I have in place to the softness. My thoughts had been solely centred on what would happen to her if I hadn’t returned.

  Unable to resist, I place my mouth on hers. Soft and subtle the contours of her lips cling to mine with an awakening hunger. Finally, large blue eyes that have fascinated me from the moment I saw her open to focus on my face. I’m not sure what I expect. Regret, fear at last night. Yet, neither of those shine in her gaze. Instead I see the heat of lust and a glimpse of something else.

  “Hey.” Evelyn’s smile is awkward and shy. She doesn’t move like I imagine she would. Remaining cuddled into my chest, she rests her head on my shoulder.

  Possessively I slid a muscular leg over one of her slender ones. “Hi.”

  Raking a hand through the strands of her untidy hair, she brushes it away from her face. “Where did you vanish to yesterday?”

  “Business.”

  “Who beat you up?” Her question is light, but she can’t hide the anxiety behind it no matter how she tries. She sounds more like a worried girlfriend than my hostage.

  I hesitate to answer for only a heartbeat. “Another Russian assassin. He’d taken out a lead I thought I’d had at who’s trying to have me killed.”

  She’s enmeshed in this as deeply as I am, but I don’t want to scare her more than she is already. Whoever wants us dead won’t stop until they achieve it. Not unless I take them out first. The thought of anyone hurting my petal has my hand twitching with the urge to hold my gun. Bullet for bullet, blood for blood, whatever it takes I’ll end them before I’ll let anyone touch a hair on her golden head. I don’t probe my motives too profoundly. A debt to pay. Evelyn sewed up my side, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t receive a bullet in the head for her kindness.

  The pads of her fingers dance lightly over my chest writing patterns over my old scars. “This must have hurt,” she remarks, circling a nasty puckered circular blemish. I try not to shudder at the pleasurable sensation.

  “Bullet wound in Venezuela a few years back,” I tell her not going into details.

  Inquisitiveness shines in her gaze. The way it sweeps over the rest of my physical mementos I can see her interest.

  “Do you always get hurt? Have you travelled a lot with your…job?” She asks, her tone quiet.

  Her questions make me smile. She’s fluttering around the edges and not probing deeper into my background like I can tell she wants to do.

  “I try to avoid getting shot or stabbed when I can. As for traveling, I’ve been all over the world.”

  “Rome is my first trip away from England,” she admits with a sweet smile that has my heart beating a little faster in my chest.

  “How old are you Evelyn?”

  Her examination doesn’t hesitate but continues over my scars. “Twenty-eight.”

  At thirty-nine, there’s eleven years difference between us. God she’s so naive. Nothing like the other women I’ve had.

  “Here.” Stretching my arm across to the chair, I retrieve the plastic bag I’d brought in with me last night.

  Her silky limbs caress mine as I move, making me aware of every curve of her naked body. The same ones I’d claimed hours before. Ones I intend to traverse again soon. I can see her curiosity is piqued from the way she sits up. Taking it in her hands she pulls out the contents. “Magazines?”

  “They’re in English.” I shrug nonchalantly. “As the books in the study are in Italian and you don’t understand the language, I thought these would keep you amused.”

  “Thank you.”

  The smile that curves up her pouty lips is so genuine and open I can’t stop myself from staring. The sincerity held on her beautiful face gives me an odd pang in the vicinity of my heart. I sit and watch her leaf through the pages, her eyes lighting up with happiness. My life has turned into a merry-go-round of emotions with this woman. Spinning up and down with no way off.

  “How long are you supposed to be in Rome?” I ask her, reminding myself reality is creeping in with each minute passing.

  “A w
eek.” Her reply is light, her attention flitting to my face and away again with nervousness.

  “Will you be missed if you don’t arrive back?”

  “My mother and step father will worry. They’re due to pick me up on the day.”

  That doesn’t give me much time. Once they alert the Italian police, they’ll begin to search for her. With the Russians already on my back, the authorities joining the mix would just make everything more difficult. The only solution would be to leave town or at least get Evelyn out. Tuscany. It’s a few hours away, and I have a house there. She’d be safely tucked away. I push aside the whisper that I should let her go. Stick her on a plane. It would be the logical thing to do, but since kidnapping her, logic has gone out the window. If I’d listened to it in the first place, she’d be on a slab in the morgue in the local hospital.

  “I need a smoke.” Flinging the blanket free, I rise from the bed. My side aches as I pad to my jacket looking for my cigarettes. Unzipping the pocket, I fish out the pack and lighter I need. I can sense weight of Evelyn’s gaze behind me as I stab my legs into a pair of jeans. How it travels over the inked flesh of my back, downward to my buttocks. Does my tattoo frighten her? Remind her of what I am? A soulless killer? The grim reaper to those unlucky enough to cross me. Death. Someone she should never have encountered in her normal carefree life.

  “Kay.”

  Her soft, sweet voice drags me from my darkening thoughts. I survey her over my shoulder, still facing the door as I buckle my belt.

  Big, blue eyes stare clear and innocent up into my own. “I just want you to know that when you let me leave, I won’t tell anyone about you. Who and what you are is safe with me.”

  Not if but when.

  I don’t reply but acknowledge her words with a stiff nod. There’s nothing I can say. She’s right. I don’t know how she knows or when things shifted, but even if I was ordered, there’s no way I could kill her now. Leaving her enveloped in the blanket, the magazines in her lap, I head to the kitchen.