by Tobi Doyle
“I love you.” Alyosha took my hand and sat on our bed.
I straddled him. “That’s convenient, because I love you, too.” I skimmed my hands down the hard planes of his back, pulling myself against him. I loved the size of him, the way my body fit against his, and the way he looked at me like I was a treasure he’d found and cherished.
I pushed my fingers through his hair, loving the way the strands slipped like silk ribbons against my skin. My body awoke, my skin soft against his heated muscles.
Alyosha pressed kisses along my neck. His hands skated down my back, caressed my butt, and he shifted bringing him against my folds. He held me against him.
“I love the way we fit together,” he whispered, echoing my thoughts. “I love coming home to you.” He cupped my face, his amber eyes all seriousness. “You are my home.”
He devasted me.
All his strength and power focused on me blasted any sense of self away, until it was us. One. United.
No matter our pasts, our future was one.
We made love and afterwards, he held me, combing his fingers through my hair and playing with the ends. I rested my head over his heart, the beat strong and slowing. “Tell me about your day,” I whispered because these moments were my favorite, sacred, serene where we learned the most about each other.
“It was good. Misha will come next month. Dima says the police believe Lev’s attack is retribution for the bodies found on his boat.”
The bodies they’d planted on Lev’s boat…
“That’s good, right?” I asked, never sure what Dima’s end goals may be.
He sighed. “It’s not bad. Lev’s will named a woman as his beneficiary.”
I leaned on my elbow and kissed Alyosha’s jaw. “Is the woman a complication?”
He frowned. “I’m not sure. If she’s family and Bratva it should be of no consequence, but Dima did not recognize the name.” He cupped my cheek and traced his thumb against my lip. “Dima’s superiors want full access to Lev’s money. If she’s not Bratva she could be in danger.”
My skin grew warm against his body, but a chill slid through my veins. “If she’s innocent, I mean didn’t know about Lev’s money or Bratva, will Dima help her?”
Alyosha nodded.
“And you?”
“I will.” He watched me carefully, like he measured my reaction.
I kissed his chin. “Good.” I kissed his nose, and then his mouth.
He growled and rolled us over, covering me completely. He peppered my face with kisses, mumbling words in Russian. Sweet nothings.
My stomach growled and he rolled to the side. “I have neglected you.” He slid out of bed. “Let’s eat dinner and you can tell me what you’ve researched today.”
Over pelmeni I told him my concerns. Most of them, anyway. I wanted to still hide some of my crazy.
“What you want,” he summarized, “is three separate businesses that share a waiting room and bathrooms.”
“That would make it possible for us to offer tattoos and also have a bar area. I’d like the bar to serve sandwiches, too. Nothing fancy, just satisfying finger foods.” I picked up our dishes and rinsed them in the sink. “But I really need to ask Kendra and Michelle what they want and how they want to set up the partnership. They’re coming over Wednesday and I promised them a catered brunch.”
Alyosha poured us wine. “Good. I’ll have chef prepare something special. Perhaps you should consider being the property manager instead of the business manager. Look for an established tattoo artist and bartender and rent the space to them.”
Butterflies took off in my stomach. “I like that.” I pulled Alyosha over to the dining table. I pointed to the map. “I’ve highlighted salon’s in pink, tattoo places in blue. It’s a bit overwhelming and there’s so much competition.”
Alyosha grunted. “True, and yet, there are many restaurants in San Francisco, but Konstantin’s is still successful. If your quality is superior, you will get clients. Make the salon a place people want to spend time in, come with friends, be a part of the community, and you will have success.”
I wished his confidence was sexually transmittable.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
On our three-month anniversary, Alexei handed me the deed to an office space a few blocks away. Not a lease. A deed. With my name on it. Adrianna DelToro Bykov.
“An investment,” he said. “For you, and Misha. For us.”
Us. Meaning our family, which included Elena, and Dima and his fierce presence, Vanya, always looking pristine, Daniel, who had graduated to suits and was interning at a CPA’s office. And Misha, his blood brother, who’d immigrated and needed the business investment for his EB-5 VISA.
Now, only two months later, because of Misha’s amazing carpentry skills, Daniel’s phenomenal deal brokering, and the cashing in of favors from Dima, Vanya, and Alyosha, we stood in the fully furnished ready-to-open Bull Headed, our salon, bar, and tattoo and piercing studio just like Michelle, Kendra, and I had envisioned. Jeremy, Kendra, and Michelle lounged on the couch that separated the salon from the bar. Jeremy’s cousin, Willow, our salon manager, eyed Daniel with open appreciation from a bar stool. Daniel was engrossed with something on his phone.
Elena and Dima threw the knives Dima gave her for her birthday into the dart board. Those two had a strange relationship, sometimes antagonistic, sometimes conspiratorial. Elena trusted Dima, and Elena hadn’t trusted any man before, which made me trust him more. And more importantly, their friendship seemed to ease her anger.
Still, Dima’s situation with the Bratva was unsettled. Alyosha assured me he wouldn’t endanger us, and I believed him.
Elena remained focused on school, and would bartend at Bull Headed, guaranteed any hours she wanted. She also easily persuaded Kendra, Michelle, and I to give free makeovers to the women in the shelter preparing for their job interviews at the salon. The business was a win-win for all of us. Misha would manage the bar and tattoo studio. Willow would manage the salon. Kendra, Michelle and I were equal partners, renting the space. I would collect the rent and put into an account for our future children.
Because I wanted children with Alyosha.
Me, who couldn’t consider a future beyond survival, planned for my future and my children’s future.
Alyosha handed me a glass of champagne. “You have done an amazing job.” His eyes burned golden with a promise we would celebrate more, alone, tonight.
Daniel looked up from his phone. “Quick, turn on the local station.”
Misha turned off the stereo with one remote and turned on the TV.
The news anchor read from a sheet of paper, like it had just been printed off. “Breaking news, Senatorial Candidate Moe Robertson’s son, Moe Robertson Junior, was found dead in his jail cell this afternoon of an apparent overdose. He was due in court tomorrow for sentencing after being found guilty of manslaughter, hit-and-run. He is reported to have left a suicide note apologizing to his family. You may remember that he named the still-missing District Attorney Gregory Herndon as a co-conspirator to the coverup of the fatal accident. Herndon was reported to be seen in the Cayman Islands last month, and two weeks ago in Panama, but these sightings have not been verified.”
I glanced at Alyosha, we’d been getting better at the communication through looks.
He raised an eyebrow and a small secretive smile flashed across his face. It’s over.
I stepped closer, put my champagne down, grabbed his shirt and pulled his face close. “Oh, it’s just beginning.” I kissed my husband.
“Kotyonok?” He pulled me tight against him.
“We’ve got a very busy future planned,” I whispered against his lips.
“We do?”
“Oh, yes. You see, now that I no longer have to worry about Elena…” I raised an eyebrow. “Or probate, or anything else, I’ve made a list of things I’d like to do.”
“Really? Like what?” His smile lit up his whole face.
> “You, for starters. And then next month, we’re going to Barbados.”
He chuckled. “You are willing to take time off?”
“Five days. Five nights. I’ve already cleared it with your chef, and my business partners.” I combed my fingers through his hair. “You, me, bathing suits optional.”
He growled. “How am I supposed to get work done until then?”
“Gross, will you two knock it off?” Elena whined.
Alyosha narrowed his eyes.
Elena rolled hers. “Scary Thor eyes don’t work on me.”
Dima snorted. “Does anything work on you?”
Elena scrunched up her nose. “Kindness.”
Dima’s eyes widened and he nodded once. He turned back to the dart board but the tips of his ears were pink.
What was that? I questioned Alyosha with my eyes.
He pulled me close, nuzzling my ear. “If it bothers you, I will speak to him. But perhaps we leave that to them. Yes?”
I watched my sister flick her hand and a small, deadly blade sink into the bullseye. She could and would take of herself. “Yes.”
He kissed my hand and then tugged on a curl trapped between us.
“What about you? What do you want?” I asked.
His eyes turned golden. He looked around the room and then back to me. “More family.”
My heart stuttered and my mouth went dry. “Okay,” I whispered.
He kissed my hand and then pulled it against his heart. “You made me believe I could have more. Thank you for giving me your love.”
“Thank you for cherishing it.” And me.
And us.
And more.
A Note from Tobi
I love writing romance. Years ago when I was visiting my parents, I read an article about the Russian mafia moving into to San Francisco and making the streets less violent. The story kicked around in my brain for a long time before I finally plotted out the series.
I share my empty-nest home with an adoring husband – seriously, he’s amazing – three cats, two dogs, and a tortoise. When I’m not writing romance, she’s writing childrens’ fiction or cozy mysteries, and sometimes a YA as Doyle MacBrayne. I would ABSOLUTELY love for you to follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @tobidoyle
You can sign up for her occasional emails at my website tobidoyle.com.
Pretty please, leave a review of a book you’ve read recently at the eBook retailer and Goodreads. Authors need those reviews.
Marina’s Risk sneak peak!
The second Garza Security book, can be read as a standalone.
The first book, Still Waters, is available on KindleUnlimited https://amzn.to/38Mt0CU.
MARINA’S RISK
Chapter One
AJ hunkered down on the forest floor, slowed his breathing and waited for MaryAnn to quit yammering in his ear piece about the number of clicks to the kidnappers’ campsite and the other team members’ positions. MaryAnn, the tech new guy on the Garza Security team, was like a puppy on their first walk.
“Shut up," AJ muttered.
MaryAnn’s voice trailed off.
The kidnappers’ campsite smoke rolled toward him in the humid air, he could taste it. His team member Juju was positioned next to him, and things were moving according to plan. He didn’t need MaryAnn in his fucking head with a play-by-play of the overhead drone video.
Questions bothered him, like why did the kidnappers had made a campfire in July in the Medellín rain forest? The smoke had been a freaking neon sign indicating their location. Something was off. This was his ninth extraction in three years and never had their original plan been successful. This one was fucking clockwork perfect.
AJ tapped Juju’s shoulder and pointed to the right. He motioned to himself and then to the left. Juju nodded and moved right. The man moved silently, even though he was fucking huge.
Carter’s voice came over the headset, "In position, no sight of asset.”
AJ crept to the left, choosing each footstep to avoid branches and twigs. He stopped twenty feet from the campsite. An old canvas tent, probably left over some from some army surplus, was situated on the far side of the camp. ”In position,” he whispered into the com.
He waited to hear from Juju and Randy.
Toffy, the final member of their five-member team stayed with MaryAnn at the small campsite they’d slept in last night. He was babysitting the enthusiastic and chatty newbie three miles from the kidnappers’ campsite just in case MaryAnn made a mistake. They wouldn't tell him that, he’d probably figure it out on his own when they did the next mission.
“In position,” Juju murmured.
Randy was the only member they still hadn't heard from.
AJ knelt on the damp decomposing leaves on the forest floor. He hated the musty smell. Although, the DEET he’d practically bathed in yesterday covered most of the smell.
Two men drank coffee next to the campfire. It felt like a hundred fucking degrees in a sauna and they drank hot coffee. These guys must be made of asbestos.
Two tones alerted the team Randy was in place, but too close to speak. Randy was a fuckin’ ninja.
The plan was to watch for twenty minutes after the last man checked in. Last night the drone had found four heat signatures in the campsite, but AJ could only see two.
MaryAnn whispered, ”Two pairs. Two by fire, two in tent lying down."
AJ looked up but couldn’t see the drone or hear it over the racket from the birds and bugs. He wanted to enter the campsite now. Although AJ was the team leader, Randy was closest and had the line of sight and would make the call.
AJ waited in the filth with the anticipation curling in his belly, his muscles juicing up and ready to explode. This was his favorite part of the gig–not the waiting–but right before the fight.
It started to rain. Protected by a tree, the big fat drops fell around him.
The two men at the campfire walked toward the tent.
AJ’s gut tightened. Having three armed men near their asset was a problem. Three quick tones burst into his ear signaling to go. AJ bolted, running like he’d heard the starter's gun at a race. He tore through the remaining twenty feet to the campsite, pulling his gun from the holster. Randy shot the two coffee drinkers at the fire and they fell, screaming.
Carter joined AJ at the entrance to the tent.
Juju and Randy positioned themselves behind the tent.
A man inside screamed, “No, no, no, no…" his voice rose in pitch and panic.
Juju nodded and Carter ripped the tent from the ground. One man stumbled out, older, and smelling like camphor and citronella.
AJ didn't recognize him. He struck the butt of his gun across the man's head.
The man fell to the ground, unconscious.
Randy peeled back the tent flaps and looked inside. "Peter Landvik?” Randy waited for an answer.
Wouldn’t it be fucking hilarious if they were rescuing the wrong guy?
The man inside burst into tears.
AJ recognized Peter Landvik. He looked like shit, but then he’d been abducted weeks ago. He was alive, had all his fingers and while he needed a shave and some liquids and protein, he was better off than most of the guys they rescued.
"That's him," AJ said. He crouched down. "Peter, let's go. Your family sent us. Belle, Robert, Neil and Marina.” AJ saw the recognition in the man’s eyes. He needed Peter to trust them otherwise they’d carry his bound ass out of the now-muddy forest and that out would really suck. “Can you walk?”
Peter sobbed, but nodded his head. He stood and stepped gingerly over the camping equipment that had been strewn on the floor after Carter’s tent-tipping.
AJ held out his hand.
Peter grasped it. “Thank you.” His quiet voice sounded weak, but his grip was strong.
AJ offered his forearm for more balance.
Peter leaned against him.
AJ led them up the ravine, toward MaryAnn and Toffy’s location.
> "Got him. On our way out." Randy announced to MaryAnn and Toffy. He charged up the hill, picking the easiest path.
Peter stumbled.
“Fuck it,” AJ hauled the man over his shoulder. Peter’s thin frame was all sharp edges. His soft grunt was his only protest.
"Let me know if you need to be put down.” AJ clamped one arm around Peter’s thighs and the other over his back.
“That was too easy, yeah?” Juju murmured.
AJ nodded, flicking his eyes to Peter and back to Juju. They’d talk about it later.
The men carried Peter, switching off every fifteen to twenty minutes as they traversed the incline. It took them an hour to reach Toffy and MaryAnn, which was good time considering the terrain.
Toffy had the stretcher covered with a blanket. Peter tumbled off Randy’s shoulder, but Toffy caught him before he hit the ground and eased him onto the stretcher.
Toffy handed a box of wet wipes to AJ. The two men cleaned Peter off as best as they could for the picture AJ would send to the family.
“Hey, you okay man?” Toffy checked Peter’s vitals and pupils.
Peter nodded. “Thank god you found me.”
Toffy exchanged a look with AJ. It was too easy. He unscrewed a bottle of water and handed it to Peter. "If you can't drink this we’ll set up an IV. Drink it slow, I don’t want you to throw up."
Toffy and Carter grabbed the ends of the stretcher and hauled ass to the van hidden from the road about a quarter mile away.
Randy smacked MaryAnn on the back of the head. "Clicks? What the fuck, Chatty Kathy? We’re American, not military. Use goddamn English." Randy had grown up surrounded by gangs, like AJ, his brother Quin, and Lance, another member of their team. MaryAnn had a military background and privileged upbringing, like Juju. Nobody knew shit about Toffy.