by Kresley Cole
I was ready for him. I wanted my Russian. I wanted to claim my name again and start a brand-new life. If I could just wake up. I fought to lift my lids.
The heart monitor began to speed up.
Beep . . . . . . Beep . . . . . Beep . . . . Beep . . . Beep
I felt my free hand clench the sheet. Hey! That was new.
Beep . . Beep . . Beep . . Beep . . Beep . . Beep
He exhaled a gust of breath. "Are you about to wake? Come back to me! You can do this!"
If I could move, maybe I could talk now. I struggled to grate out, "Maxim."
His hands clenched mine as he snapped, "STAY AWAKE!" then he bellowed for a nurse. To me, he said, "Keep talking! Please, Lucia!"
I cracked open my eyes. Once I got used to the brightness and could focus, I gasped at his appearance. He hadn't shaved in days, and his hair was a mess. His eyes were so red, the blue of his irises appeared indigo. His suit was rumpled, his shirt collar unbuttoned. I could see the edge of his bandage.
"You look like hell." My voice was scratchy.
That made him smile. He raised my hand to his stubbled jaw. "Good of you to notice." His eyes were glinting.
Damn, I loved this man. "What happened?"
"The blade missed everything major, but you lost too much blood. You went into shock. After surgery, you didn't wake up."
Surgery? I glanced down, saw the edge of my own bandage peeking out from a hospital gown. "Are you okay? When you were shot . . ."
"I'm fine now. It will take more than a bullet to keep me from you."
My voice was weak and my throat felt like it was on fire, but I still teased, "Do you like me when I pull through?"
He laughed without humor. "I love you when you pull through. Everything's going to be better now."
"Edward's dead?"
"You're a widow. You're free." The door opened behind him. "They'll need to check you, now that you're awake."
A doctor came in, also rumpled. Behind his glasses, his eyes were bloodshot too. He warily glanced at my Russian. The man swallowed, then told me, "I am very, very relieved that you're better." He sounded Australian.
Had Maxim been scaring people? He reluctantly let go of my hand.
The doc fussed over me, a nurse too, but my eyes only wanted to look at Maxim. He had his gaze locked on me, even as he called Aleks and Natalie.
I heard her squeal on the phone.
The doc said something about my vitals looking good, but I'd probably get sleepy and that was okay. "You're fortunate," he told me. "A hair's width to the left and we would not be having this conversation."
Once we were alone again, Maxim sat beside me on the bed.
"Did you scare that poor doctor, Ruso?"
"A bit. He didn't want to travel here from Australia. At least not at first," he added darkly.
"You brought in someone from across the world?"
"Of course. I wanted a second opinion on your surgery, and he is the best." He hiked his shoulders, stifling a wince. "Aleks and Natalie are coming right over. They'd gone to the hotel to change. They've been here each day."
"They don't have to return. I can't believe they left their honeymoon."
"They want to make sure you're okay. You have friends who care very much about you. Jess would be here as well, but we've kept your location secret for your protection. That one is chaos embodied, no?"
"They all know what happened?" So strange. My marriage to a murderer had been my burden. Now, out in the world. "I can't believe Edward's dead."
"He was married six times." In a grave tone, Maxim said, "Lucia, you are the only one to survive him."
"S-six?" If my race hadn't been canceled, would I have been his next victim? "Have the cops been here? When will I have to talk to someone?" I dreaded having to spill the entire story, to dredge up so many painful memories.
"Talk about what, love? Edward Hatcher was found shot in a public restroom in Atlantic City. A drug deal gone wrong."
My lips formed an O. "No one heard the shots on campus?"
"Few people were there on New Year's Eve, and the storm brought a lot of thunder. We left quickly afterward."
"Why Atlantic City?"
"He lived there for a while, and I didn't want him connected to Miami, in case you wish to stay here. I burned to punish him for hurting you, but if he were found tortured, there would be even more questions." Maxim's gaze grew even more intense. "He wouldn't have been found at all, but . . . I wanted to make you a widow."
I swallowed. So Maxim could marry me? "I'm Lucia Martinez again?" My eyes watered.
"Yes, love. Now you have nothing to worry about except getting better."
"There's a case, Maxim. It's in a safety deposit box--"
"It's already been collected."
"How did you know?"
"Before Hatcher died, he confessed to things."
They'd taken him alive. I thought back over that crazed car ride. Had something thumped in the trunk?
The trunk of the Russian mobster's Bentley.
Maxim said, "He admitted to profiling you for months before he ever approached you. He knew everything about you."
He had? "No wonder we had so much in common."
"Hatcher also recently signed things. You own your home again, and we've recovered about half of your money, with more to follow. If you want to make his actions public in the future, you can, at your own pace. But nothing can hinder your recovery."
"How did you access the box at the bank?"
Maxim appeared somewhat affronted, raising his brows as if to say honey, please. I suppose he knew the type of guys who could've gotten into the Pentagon if I'd needed them to.
"What about Julia's death?"
"She'll never be found. That often happens to women in Hatcher's presence. He was wanted for murder in other states, but you've kept him so busy, he hasn't been able to target another. I can't find evidence of more crimes."
That made me feel better. But still . . . "He was a monster, and I invited him into our lives. Now your life. You were shot."
"A predator picked you. He studied you. You were a teenager. As for myself, I deserved nothing less." He raked the fingers of his free hand through his hair. "I fucked up at every turn, and you lie here because of it. You almost . . . you nearly died." He visibly shuddered.
I couldn't stand to see the guilt in his eyes. "I guess we could blame ourselves. I have an idea--let's blame him." I was starting to get sleepy.
"We could do that. We have time to discuss all this. You already look tired, love."
"If I'm going to be out, you could go to the hotel and rest."
"Not a chance." He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I'll watch over you. Right now, just concentrate on getting better."
"Then what happens? I need to know something before I pass out."
His Adam's apple bobbed. "Whatever you wish to happen will. I'll see to it." I read a question in his gaze. Was I keeping him?
"What are my choices? I like things settled, Ruso."
"You know what I want from you."
I bit my lip at the fierceness in his expression. "You want everything?"
A slow nod. "Everything." The man was a goner. Done for. Terminado.
"What if you get jealous again? And stop talking to me?"
In a hoarse voice, he said, "I have learned--in the harshest possible way--to talk to you. I want to spend my life making up for the way I treated you. But I won't rush your decision. For now, you need to rest and heal so you can go home."
I couldn't stifle a yawn. "Home?" In Jacksonville? I didn't want to go there, not for a while. Not until the pain had faded more.
"You have a brand new house in Miami, moyo solnyshko. It has spices in need of organizing. When you're better, you'll have a discerning dog. And I'll bribe him to like me."
He got me a Miami house? "Is my place big enough for me and my dog and even you?"
"Indeed."
I yawned again. "You wann
a share it with us?"
He swallowed. "Are you certain? You have your freedom now. You're young and wealthy and can do anything--can have anything--in this world."
I was drifting off. "I want my Russian. Come live with me and the scrappy mutt we pick out at the pound. Mi casa es su casa."
"Ah, my Lucia wants a scrappy mutt. I should've known you'd prefer a dog who's been on the run." As I drifted off, I heard him say, "I'll live with you, then. Until I can convince you to marry me. . . ."
CHAPTER 40
I sat on Maxim's lap as Vasili drove us to my new place. The day was a Miami stunner. I raised my face to the sun coming in the window, starved for it after so long inside.
At the hospital, Vasili had opened the door to the (new) Bentley, literally hat in hand. He'd mumbled fervent Russian to me.
I'd asked Maxim, "What's he saying?"
"That he's very happy you're better. And sorry for his suspicions."
I told the man, "You took care of Maxim. How could I hold a grudge? You get a lifetime supply of turron."
Now we were slowing to turn onto a bridge. "I recognize this! We're going to Indian Creek Island?" The tiny Miami eden for the ultra-rich was home to only fourteen families, yet the enclave had its own police force and mayor. "I always wanted a cleaning job here, but the security was crazy."
"In lieu of a job, would you accept owning the best house on the island?"
I gazed back at Maxim. "En serio? Si. Let's do that." I craned my head to look at everything, squirming over him. My eyes widened when I felt him harden. Maxim had definitely recovered from his gunshot wound. I slid him a smile.
The left corner of his lips curved. "And I'd been so good the whole way here."
The doc had told me I couldn't have sex until I got the all clear. I leaned back against the uninjured side of Maxim's chest. "This chastity is going to be the worst of all, isn't it, Ruso?"
"I'd prefer another bullet wound."
As we pulled into a driveway lined with majestic palms, my jaw dropped at the enormous mansion. Maxim hadn't been kidding about ours being the best.
The design was modern, with an abundance of oversize windows, the stucco tropics-white. Lush landscaping abounded.
Inside, I turned in circles. The decor was warm and inviting. Tasteful art adorned the walls. The ceilings soared, giving the rooms an airy feel. Plush rugs softened the acoustics.
In the living room, an entire wall opened to the outside--and a breathtaking pool. A green lawn sprawled down to a beach and lapping blue waves. A cigarette boat hung in a lift.
"Te gusta?" he asked.
"We can live here today? It's krasavitza. Beautiful!" I crossed to him.
He smiled at my Russian word. "You're already moved in. I wasn't joking about the kitchen spices. For the future, there's a treadmill and the yard is fenced. Though maybe you'd like somewhere else better? We could stay in Jacksonville, or the North Pole, or wherever St. Bernards serve brandy."
I grinned up at him. "I like it here. But don't you need to live in Russia?"
"Aleksandr wants to go into business. He has totally changed his mind about me. He could take over things in Russia, and I could expand here. In fact, you and I could start operations in this very house."
I was already heading into phase four of my life plan? "How many briefcases of cash did this place cost?"
"Many. But the markets were good--today we are billionaires. We should reward ourselves."
"Okay, but when do I get to visit the motherland?"
"Once you're fully recovered. Our estate there is beautiful in the spring." He grazed his knuckles along my jawline. "I want you to meet Dmitri as well."
I smoothed the lapel of Maxim's blazer. "Won't he hate me?"
"He called when you were in surgery, and I was out of my head with worry. I didn't bother trying to hide how frantic I was. When I called to tell him you were better, he said, 'You love her. I will meet her.' This is huge for him."
"Then count me in."
"I let him know that I will always be there for him, but things have changed. My focus will be on the future." Maxim's eyes were full of promise. "Come, I want you to see some things in your closets."
The spaces weren't closets--they were rooms, each one with new swag and clothes! He leaned against the doorway, content to watch me explore. When I found my red scarf, I closed my eyes in relief.
"You should look at that new wallet as well." He pointed to one of several.
I opened it. Credit cards filled all the slots. "Aww. Did you get me pin money?"
"Only in the checking. The savings is yours."
Wait . . . I looked at the ID. "This is me!" The picture was from my former license. Oh, I looked so young! "You got the Hatcher taken off so quickly! I'm officially me again."
With that gleam I loved so well, he said, "Maybe you can still be Cat and Katya--on occasion."
I traipsed closer to him. "This kitten will want a lot of toys. Let's dedicate a room."
He inhaled sharply. "Si, let's do that. For now, you have more exploring to do. Your jewelry."
All my previous bling was organized, along with tons more. Among my pearls and gold was my mother's rosary. "Oh, Maxim, you got it back?" When the import of what I'd regained truly hit me, I would surely lose my shit. In a way, that rosary had been on as wild a trip as I had.
"Of course." He took my hand. "When you feel like it, you can decide what you want to do with your home in Jacksonville as well."
"I wish the place would be the same, just minus that one room."
He raised his brows, as if to say challenge accepted.
As we strolled toward the pool, I said, "I got the strangest text from Ivanna this morning. From what I could decipher, she wrote that her family would be in the States by the end of next week. And that her new place was amazing." (hus s amzasng!1) "You know anything about that?"
He shrugged. "If she hadn't sent you to me . . . I am very beholden to her--and to Botox in general."
"She was a little pissed that I hadn't asked for help, but she understood too." I already had a friend in Miami! "She also texted that Anthony closed up shop and is on the run from the mafiya."
A raised brow. "I will prolong that for as many years as it pleases you." Beside the pool, he sat on a lounge chair, then gingerly pulled me into his lap. Sun bathed us in light, dappling the blue water beyond.
"When do you think we'll christen this chair, Ruso?"
He groaned. "Unfortunately, not for a while."
"I understand, baby boy. After all, you were shot. And at your age too?" I fake-winced. "But I'm sure they'll clear you for duty"--I wriggled over the growing bulge in his lap--"eventually."
His voice was husky. "Little witch."
"I guess I'll give you a reprieve because you took a bullet for me."
"I'd do it to eternity to have this moment. Though you know I won't rest until you're mine in every way."
"It's you for me, Ruso. You are stuck with me. But what if I want to wait awhile before thinking about marriage?" Even with the man of my dreams, I didn't want to rush things.
I had this feeling that I'd know when the time was right.
"Then I'll propose to you weekly."
I found that fair, since we both knew he could use a magic wand, rope, and the strategic application of a chastity belt to get me to yes.
I twirled my finger over the left side of his chest. "You aren't done with me yet?"
He pinned my gaze with his own. With a surprisingly smooth accent, he told me, "Nunca voy a terminar contigo." I'll never be done with you.
EPILOGUE
Jacksonville
Graduation day
"You can't be late, Lucia," Maxim rasped in my ear as his body worked mine. "How did you talk me into this?"
"It's your own fault for looking so hot in that suit," I told him, my nails digging into his shoulders. "When your woman needs it, she needs it. We'll be quick."
I was getting it o
n with a Russian sex god. In a closet on campus. In my graduation robe. Because I could.
Life was sweet.
"Am I hurting you?" He was asking me that after what we'd done last night?
Though I was totally healed up, he still asked. My scar wasn't even that bad. But as Maxim had said, "I can see how close I came to losing you." Sometimes, he would shudder and kiss it. Well, no more than once a day. He'd also said the mark was much "daintier" than his own "rugged" bullet-wound scar.
His was on the right side of his chest; mine was on my left. Whenever Maxim and I kissed, so did our scars.
Because we were intertwined. In sync. Lock and key. Our bodies, our lives.
"Hurting, Maxim? I'm in agony here." I rubbed my face against his, purring Spanish in his ear--that I needed him, I needed every inch of his gorgeous body, and every inch of his magnificent cock--which made his hips surge, because the devil understood it all.
In Russian, he told me he wanted to fuck me forever, that my body was his heaven and my skin tasted like sun--which made me rock my hips on him in a frenzy. Because I now knew more than four words of his language.
He had to muffle my screams with his palm, and his own yells against my neck.
Forehead to forehead, we caught our breath.
"You like me when I graduate, Ruso?"
A sound of satisfaction rumbled from his chest. "Woman, I love you when you graduate."
We made each other presentable, then hurried to the auditorium, hand in hand. Beside the stage, he gave me a lingering kiss. The man could not possibly look prouder of me. "Behave up there, moyo solnyshko."
Behave? Just for that, I mussed his hair before I ran to take my place in line.
The dean was moments away from handing me my holy grail! All it'd taken was half a decade, a near-death experience, and teaming up with a Russian mobster.
Natalie, Aleks, and Jess were waiting for Maxim in the audience, saving him a front-row seat. They all laughed at his disheveled appearance.
I'd begged the three of them not to come, but they wouldn't be dissuaded. Because I was family.
Jess had been on her best behavior, because she wanted to coordinate hot mami's wedding, the one everyone knew would eventually happen. Organizing two billionaire weddings would pretty much set her up in the coordinator biz.
After this, we were all flying to Russia to see Natalie and Aleks's estate and vacation at Maxim's own--which he insisted was half mine. Which meant every horse was half mine!