by Krista Wolf
“I’m sure… that would be… important,” he gurgled. “Except that I’m… not…”
I extended my body, stretching him out. Yanking up on his head, while squeezing down with my legs. God, he was massive! So much bigger — and stronger — than I’d ever imagined.
“Except that I’m not Alexander Kyrkos.”
My surprise — if that’s what it was — lasted only a millisecond. One moment I was ready to plunge the ice pick deep into his carotid artery. The next I saw stars… as he slammed his head backward, straight into my chin.
FUCK!
Something in my neck cracked, loudly. I scrambled to recover, gripping the pick as I jammed it home… but just as suddenly I held nothing but air.
Damn.
He moved with astonishing speed, spinning from the bed and reaching for a switch on the wall. The bedchamber erupted with light. I squinted hard, holding my weapon out before me, waiting for a quick lunge that never came.
The giant standing across from me was a well-muscled Adonis. He stood at least six and a half-feet tall, with dark hair and a matching beard. His jaw was angular, his shoulders massive. So were his arms… his chest…
“Open your mouth,” I growled, gripping the pick with both hands. I shook it his way. “Now!”
He looked back at me in total confusion.
“Show me your teeth!”
He opened slowly, curling his lips back as I peered inside. I counted two big incisors, among his top row of bright white teeth.
But neither one of them were gold.
“DAMN,” I swore, dropping my arms. A rush of disappointment surged in, joining the adrenaline. “You’re not Xander Kyrkos!”
“Could’ve told you that,” said the burly stranger. “In fact, I did tell you that.”
The man made no motion forward, no threatening moves in my direction. Instead, he began pulling his clothes back on. I dropped the pick and smoothed my dress down, suddenly very aware of my nakedness.
“So where is he?” he demanded.
“Who?”
“Kyrkos!”
Now it was my turn to be confused. “I— I don’t know,” I said. “He was being brought here. I mean, I arranged it so that I was being brought to him… And… and…”
“You’re not his concubine?”
Concubine. It seemed like an odd word. The strangest word in the whole fucking world.
“Hell no.”
“Then why are you here?”
He was handsome as all hell — gorgeous even. And young too. Much too young to be Kyrkos, although in the heat and the darkness this wasn’t something I ever could’ve realized.
Not to mention having him behind me the whole time.
“I…”
I hesitated, looking again at the dark, gorgeous stranger. This stranger who’d just fucked me. A man who’d fucked me hard enough, and well enough, to actually make me come… even though I despised him for who I’d expected him to be.
Then, staring back at him, I realized something.
He didn’t expect to find you here either, the little voice in my mind spoke up. He’s just as surprised as you are.
It was definitely a holy shit moment.
“You’re here for him too,” I breathed, in sudden understanding. “Xander Kyrkos.”
He was looking at the ice pick now. His eyes scanning back and forth between it and me.
“Yes.”
“To come for him,” I added. My eyes narrowed. “To kill him?”
The man didn’t answer right away. But his silence was all the answer I needed.
“I followed him down the hallway,” he said eventually. “I watched him stand at the door to this very room.”
My pulse quickened again. To be so close. So near to my goal…
“I ducked back for a moment,” the bearded stranger went on. “And then when I—”
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Our eyes locked. Someone was crashing against the door.
“OPEN UP!” a voice yelled. Then, after a second-long pause: “OPEN IT NOW!”
The stranger was in action again, his movements impossibly fast. He threw back a curtain, revealing another door. A secondary entrance... or exit, as the case may be.
Why didn’t I think of —
In a flash, he ducked through. He disappeared for a moment, leaving me alone, then popped back in with an exasperated expression and extended a hand.
“Here…”
I shrank away. I didn’t even know him! I had no clue who he was.
Then again…
“BACK AWAY!” I heard a voice in the hallway shout. “GET AWAY FROM THE—”
CRACK!
A shot rang out, loud and unmistakable. It was followed by another, and the sound of the door, rattling in its frame.
All of a sudden my decision became a lot easier.
“Now!”
Instinct took over, and I grabbed the stranger-who-I’d-just-fucked’s hand. We fled through another room, flying past stone walls and high vaulted ceilings. We ran over Byzantine mosaics. Around statues of Medusa, resting on polished marble pedestals.
Two archways later we burst into a secondary hallway, forming a T-shaped junction. The corridor was filled with light and warmth, the party below us. Left and right, the air was alive with the sounds of distant laughter.
Then our hands slipped apart…
And we both took off in opposite directions.
Three
ANDREA
I made three more turns before I knew where I was. I must’ve looked like a madwoman, sprinting in high heels. Flying full speed into a whole crowd of guests, who for some reason were milling around at the top of the main staircase.
I forced myself calm. My legs shook as I descended, step by step, peering over my shoulder the whole time. I grabbed a flute of champagne from the first passing server, being sure to turn my face well away as I muttered a ‘thank you’.
After all, it wouldn’t do to be recognized by one of my own co-workers.
It had taken me two months to get the job. Another three of living out the part, and actually working with the high-level catering company. That amounted to twelve solid weeks of serving and smiling and cleaning up afterward. Of dodging pinches and grabs from the richest old men in south-central Europe, while enduring the inevitable scathing looks from their wives.
Half a year wasted here already…
Hell, I wasn’t even guaranteed to get the assignment. And there was always the chance Kyrkos wouldn’t be attending the event here. There were so many variables. So many planets had to align…
Yet it had happened, all of it. Every gamble, every longshot. Xander Kyrkos had come to the gala, and I’d positioned myself to nail him once and for all. Everything had finally, at long last, paid off.
Except now I’d just blown it.
You didn’t blow anything, the voice in my head reminded me. Somehow he just got spooked, that’s all.
I was still going over everything in my mind. As far as I knew, I’d done everything right. Secretly I’d ditched my uniform, wriggling into the most stunning red dress imaginable. I’d used it to blend in with the party at first. Then, when I was comfortable, to meet and flirt with exactly the right henchmen.
The night wore on, and I was eventually noticed. I was taken to a small bar, set off to one side. Seated among a handful of other pretty girls, each of them awaiting the same thing I was.
As far as I knew, they were all still there.
In the end I was chosen, and an offer was made. I took it… and wound up in that darkened bedroom.
They’d searched me first of course, with my heart pounding the whole time. They did it just well enough to be intrusive. Not well enough however, to find the cold blade of the ice pick I’d very creatively hidden.
It wasn’t an ideal weapon, but it had done in a pinch. Somehow I’d managed to scrounge it from the walk-in freezer. With the highest level of guests attending, security was except
ionally tight. I hadn’t been able to find a single knife in the entire kitchen.
“Brioche?”
I shook my head at the server — Frederick, I think his name was — and looked away. I’d actually watched the chef prepare that particular appetizer: Creme Fraiche and black Caviar, smeared on a quarter-sized round of toast. I could never really understand that level of ‘food’. It just wasn’t my thing.
Right now I was rattled. My panties were saturated. I took advantage of a passing restroom and discarded them, stuffing them deep into the wastebin before washing up and splashing some cold water on my face.
I came out no less nervous, but lots more comfortable. Still moving swiftly, I passed through the columns of the peristyle hallway. My heels clacked rhythmically against the grey and white flagstones of the broad, open-air courtyard.
The sheer size of the crowd made me safe here. Or at least, as safe as I’d ever be. So far, no one was looking for me yet. Especially not amongst the guests.
But I was in a red dress. A bright red dress, tailored to my body. A dress specifically designed to get me noticed…
I lamented missing my chance tonight, but at least I hadn’t been caught. Yet I knew I would be, if I didn’t get back into my uniform. Fast.
“Excuse me?”
I turned slowly and wandered away, not really knowing whether I was being addressed or not. Secretly, of course, hoping I wasn’t.
“Excuse me, miss?”
The voice was terse now, and followed by a cold hand gripping my shoulder. I winced for half a second, then turned around slowly. But not before putting on my biggest, warmest smile.
“Yes?”
My breath caught in my throat as I realized who it was.
“I know you,” squinted the uptight-looking man standing behind me. His white hair perfectly-matched his pleated tuxedo. “You work for me.”
I tried a short laugh, but it only came out as nervous. “No I don’t.”
“Yes,” he said gravely. “You do.”
He began looking around, probably for another waiter or server. Someone who could corroborate him, and prove him right.
Shit.
“You’re not in uniform,” he said, looking down at me skeptically. “But you were when the night started.”
He was right, of course. I’d ditched my serving outfit over an hour ago, in exchange for the slinky red dress. Right now it was somewhere at the bottom of a garbage pail, in the employee restroom. Right alongside my boring work flats, which I’d swapped for expensive high heels.
“Nevermind, you’re coming with me.”
I went to leave but the man’s hand snapped downward, over my wrist. The firmness of his grip said everything. My mind clouded over, struggling for options. I started to panic…
“I—”
“Ah ha! THERE you are!”
I spun again — straight into a pair of strong, capable arms. The man suddenly holding me was tall and beautiful. He had jet black hair cropped razor-close on the sides, with high cheekbones and a masculine jaw that set off his bright, brilliant smile.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.”
His hands were exceptionally strong, yet somehow gentle at the same time. I knew this the moment he slid them around my waist, where they settled with unnatural familiarity into the small of my back.
His blue eyes flared with excitement, as he delivered a wink only I could see. Then he dipped me low…
… and gave me the hottest, most incredible open-mouthed kiss of my life.
Four
ANDREA
It was one of those moments in your life where time stopped. Where everything around you just slowed to a crawl, stretching out the next few precious seconds so you could really enjoy them.
Kissing this new stranger was just like that.
A gasp of shock and surprise escaped me, one that quickly devolved into a moan as his lips forced mine apart with near-infinite slowness. His tongue slipped into my mouth. For some reason I accepted it eagerly, tasting the sweetness as I swirled mine instinctively against his.
What in the worl—
His hands moved like they owned me. One slid its way down from my back, cupping my ass to pull me more firmly against him. The other moved to my face, touching it lightly. Caressing it with the backs of his fingers, as his lips rolled softly against mine.
Most of all though, I could feel an underlying strength and power. I was being held by two muscle-bound arms. My body crushed deliciously against this hard, beautiful chest. And he had a presence about him too. Not just a charisma, either — lots of guys had that. No, there was something dangerous about this man. Which was odd, considering how impeccably he was dressed, and how disarming his smile.
“Sweetheart,” my white knight said cheerfully, and in a distinct American accent. “Did you want to introduce me to your friend?”
He glared intentionally down at where my ex-boss was still grasping my wrist. The man’s arm shot back like I was giving him an electric shock.
“I… Uh…”
It was amusing, watching him stumble in confusion. He was so damned sure of himself a second ago.
“You what?”
“I thought…” His eyes shifted to me for help. Recognition dawned, and they narrowed again. “I could’ve sworn you worked for me.”
“Worked for you?” my savior repeated incredulously. He barked a short, acrid laugh. “This woman is my fiancé!”
The last word was edged with an intentional defiance and anger. At the same time, his right hand slipped over my left, to hide where an engagement ring should be. I squeezed his thumb in my palm, to indicate I understood.
“I—I’m terribly sorry, then,” the white haired-man apologized.
“You’d better be.”
The man melted backward, into the crowd. Still holding my hand, my new paramour turned me so that my back was to him.
“Is he still looking?” he asked, without breaking his phony smile.
“Yes.”
“Then you’d better kiss me again.”
I didn’t hesitate for a second. Whoever this man was, he’d rescued me. And he somehow knew he was rescuing me, which was all the more perplexing.
Our second kiss went on even longer than the first, and that was just fine with me. He was heartbreakingly gorgeous, with strong, angular features and just the right amount of stubble. He smelled like leather and musk, with a hint of cologne. And something else, too. Something I couldn’t nail down.
Our kiss was in danger of turning into a make-out session when the music started up again. A slow waltz began playing, by the string quartet over his shoulder. He began leading. I began following…
“So who exactly are you,” I finally asked. I was feeling a little woozy now. It could’ve been from the empty champagne glass still dangling from my hand, but somehow I doubted it.
“I guess,” he said, plucking the glass away and placing it on a nearby server’s tray. “I’m your white knight.”
His blue eyes sparkled I raised an eyebrow. “A white knight dressed all in black?”
My rescuer shrugged one big shoulder. “Maybe I’m in disguise,” he said. Then, leaning in… “Just like you.”
The man pulled me against him, and I felt my pulse jump into the next range. There were people all around us, milling about. Talking and laughing as they held each other close, dancing beneath the stars.
“They made you, didn’t they?”
I pulled back to look at him. “What?”
God, his eyes were this most amazing blue-green. They reminded me of water I’d seen down in the Caribbean.
“They made you,” he said again. “They found you out.” Now those eyes darted back and forth, scanning over my shoulder. He looked disappointed. “Shit. How long ago?”
I turned and saw two groups of men, all in identical dark suits. They were coming down stairwells of the palace’s outer walls, their black shoes cracking against the ancient, crumbling s
tone.
And they were moving fast.
“Andrea,” he said sternly. He shook me like he was breaking a trance. “How long?”
“Ten minutes,” I gasped. “Maybe twelve.” My eyes shot back to his. “Wait… How do you know my name?”
Rather than answer he spun away, dragging me along with him. For the second time tonight I let a complete stranger pull me by the hand, yanking me along as we threaded our way through the crowd.
Another group of dark-suited men flashed past us, heading in the direction we’d just come. Luckily, they didn’t stop.
“This way!”
My white-knight-dressed-in-black moved with purpose, watching everything intently. After another three suits rushed by, radios crackling, he glanced over his shoulder.
“Holy shit! Did you actually get him?”
I hesitated, then shook my head in answer. As shocked as I was by everything, I didn’t even have to ask what he meant.
“Damn.”
An ear-piercing scream rose from behind us, followed by the sound of glass breaking. I could hear people gasping. Conversations going abruptly frantic.
We’re gonna get caught…
My would-be rescuer pulled me harder, faster, until I’d reached the limits of what my heels could do. A minute later I was being dragged into a side room; some kind of alcove that might’ve been important seven-hundred years ago, but right now was being used for storage. He pulled the door three-quarters the way shut.
“Your shoes. Kick them off.”
I did it reluctantly, mourning the loss. The designer pumps had cost me almost a week’s pay.
“That red dress…” he said, looking me up and down. “It has to go too.”
“What?”
“They’re looking for it,” he hissed, peering out through a slit in the doorway. “What’s under it? Can you slip it off?”
“No, I can’t just slip it off!”
He looked around, frustrated. “Then… shit.”
The flagstones seemed to be growing colder beneath my stockinged feet. The hall was busy, a rush of activity. I backed up a little, and in the darkness bumped into something thick and soft… and familiar.