The bullet entered my back from the side rather than straight in. It glanced off my rib, exited through my side and entered here, lodging in my arm.
He lifted his arm and pointed at the skin on the underside of his bicep. For a few brief seconds, Shaun was distracted by the bulge of his muscles ‒ sweet Jesus this man was ripped ‒ but then she saw the small entry wound in his arm.
"You were very lucky," she murmured, stepping away from him, suddenly realizing her proximity to the killer.
He shook his head. I didn’t feel lucky.
Shaun gave him a tired smile. "I imagine you probably didn't."
They looked at each other for an uncomfortable minute. Captor and captive. Shaun knew that she must never relax her guard. She was quite literally residing in a den of thieves.
"I'll sleep on the couch." She inserted a colder note into her voice and turned swiftly away from Jozef. Before she could walk away from him though, he reached out and snatched her hand, pulling her back.
Shaun glanced at him fearfully, afraid he'd changed his mind about sharing a bed with her. Instead, he released her hand and reached behind him, gathering up a blanket and pillow, pushing them into her arms. He pointed at the couch, which was sitting to the right of the fireplace at the end of the bed. It would make for a cozy warm place to sleep. Shaun had slept in worse places; she wasn’t going to complain.
Shaun held the bedding against her and walked to the couch, sinking into the cushions. It was comfortable enough, though not very long. She would have to sleep on her side with her legs curled up. Hopefully, it wouldn't take long for her to get out of there. She had absolutely no intention of actually marrying the mobster, which left her two options: escape or be rescued.
She heard Jozef rustling around, then the light went out and minutes later his deep snores filled the room. She was amazed that he was able to actually fall asleep with a person he barely knew in the same room. Not just any person, but a surgeon who knew dozens of ways to make him die before he could ever touch her. Either he was ridiculously unflappable, or he was just that tired.
Shaun stared at the door, then back at Jozef’s form on the bed. He was bathed in shadows and flickering firelight. She could leave. Just walk out the door and try to leave the premises. She gripped the edge of the couch as she thought about it, then shook her head and forced her body to relax. She was physically and mentally exhausted, in no shape to launch an escape attempt. She was confident she wouldn’t make it out the front door. Jozef seemed like an extremely vigilant man, and there would be security all over the place. No, what she needed to do was sleep, regain her strength and mental faculties. Then she’d think her way out of this situation.
Shaun set the pillow on the end of the couch, curled onto her side and dragged the blanket over her body. She stared at the glowing embers of the fireplace until her eyelids grew heavy and sleep claimed her.
Chapter Twelve
Dasha fussed relentlessly until Krystoff finally gathered her against his chest. “Stop, Wife,” he murmured against her rich chestnut hair. “I promise, I won’t disappear if you stop touching me.”
Rather than feeling comforted, Dasha burst into tears and sobbed into his shirt while he held her, running his hand over her smooth hair. “I know!” she wailed. “But they cut off your finger, Krysto!”
She pushed away from him and paced the length of their bedroom, tears streaming down her face, hands thrown up in the air as she talked and walked.
Krystoff took her momentary distraction to sink tiredly onto the mattress of their bed. He nearly groaned out loud at the pleasure of being in his own bed again. A hard, lumpy single mattress on a wooden plank with no pillow or blanket had been the extent of his accommodation for a week.
“It could have been much worse, Dasha.”
“No, it wouldn’t have been,” she snapped, going from despair to anger in a flash as she paced the room in front of him, giving him an excellent view of her shapely legs as they peeked from beneath her robe.
Dasha was fifty-one years old and still as fine as the day he'd married her. In fact, he thought she looked even better. Age and experience suited his wife. “Vasiliy doesn’t have the balls to do more than cut off one small finger.”
Krystoff shook his head at her phrasing. She’d gone from wailing over the loss of his precious finger to dismissing it as trivial, in almost the same breath.
“Vasiliy may be ineffectual, but he could be dangerous in his stupidity.” Krystoff snatched her hand as she walked past him. He dragged her toward him until she was standing between his spread legs, looking down at him with solemn brown eyes. “Until I understand his motives, we must be vigilant.”
“You think he will try again?” Dasha asked skeptically.
Krystoff shrugged. “As I’ve said, we don’t know what he will do.”
“Why don’t you just kill him?” Dasha asked, as though murder was as simple as breathing. His bloodthirsty wife was used to having an entire hit squad at her fingertips.
“You know it’s not as easy as that,” Krystoff chided. “Vasiliy has established himself deep in Europe’s underground. He cozies up to those who can further his business aspirations. Your own father had alliances with the man, including a marriage to your half-sister. He may be inept but he’s not completely stupid. He has somehow managed to involve himself in as many aspects of Koba business as he can. I suspect it is because he hasn’t managed to successfully insinuate himself directly into our lives, where he would have the might of the Kobas at his back, despite marrying your sister.”
“She is no sister of mine,” Dasha hissed in annoyance.
Krystoff suppressed a smile. Over thirty years had passed, but Dasha was still bitter toward her younger half-sister. The girl had thrown herself at a drunk Krystoff after a night of celebration with his friends. She’d tried to seduce him and convince him to marry her instead of Dasha.
Krystoff hadn’t wanted anything to do with a single member of the family. There was no honour among her birth family. They would do business with a man one day and shoot him in the back the next. The only reason Krystoff had agreed to marriage with the elder daughter was because his father had an unpaid blood debt to the family.
Eventually, after a decade of vicious fighting, Dasha and Krystoff had discovered an unexpected love. It helped that she hated her family as much as he did. When Vasiliy married into the family circle, Krystoff had cut ties with both Vasiliy and Dasha’s family, much to Vasiliy’s chagrin.
Dasha rolled her eyes. “This whole thing is ridiculous. Vasiliy has been a thorn in our side for years. It’s time to be done with him.”
Krystoff yanked on Dasha’s arm, dragging her off her feet and tumbling her onto the bed next to him. He rolled onto his side, looking down at her and sliding his hand into the front of her robe, seeking the smooth skin beneath. She smiled up at him, her shoulders relaxing into the bed. She reached up to touch his face, smoothing her fingers over his brow, then his mustache and beard.
“I will remove Vasiliy when it’s time, but for now he must remain alive.” Krystoff’s voice held a note of finality. “Now, tell me what you think of our nephew’s soon-to-be bride.”
Dasha’s eyes lit up with the special light she got only when there was a wedding on the horizon. One that she got to plan. “I think she’s perfect,” Dasha announced excitedly, rolling against her husband and speaking animatedly, her nose inches from his. “She’s beautiful, but serious and smart. Jozef has never brought a woman home before. She must really be something special. She’ll look absolutely stunning in the dress I’m envisioning for her.”
Krystoff frowned. He hadn’t considered that Jozef might actually have feelings for the doctor. They’d only met two days ago; they couldn’t possibly have formed a bond. Then again, Shaun had gone through a traumatic event with Jozef at her side, possibly igniting his protective instincts. The ones usually reserved for his family.
Jozef had earned the nickname divoký p
es, feral dog, because he was so viciously protective of his family. He hired other men who were nearly as rabid to serve as the first line of defense between the Kobas and the rest of the world. Jozef’s loyalty was not something Krystoff would ever question.
Yet, there was something about the way Jozef looked at the doctor. Something that went deeper than simple lust or curiosity.
When Jozef had announced his intentions to marry Shaun, Krystoff had decided to allow him the fantasy until he lost interest and she could be quietly removed. Now, he was less certain this would happen, which concerned him. The Kobas married within their own circles. They didn’t choose outsiders, people who wouldn’t understand their way of life.
“Don’t get too attached to the girl,” Krystoff said quietly.
Dasha pushed herself up on one elbow, her dark hair swirling around her shoulders. She propped her chin up on her hand. “Whyever not?”
Krystoff didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. Dasha would know what her husband was thinking.
She smiled at him. “Nonsense, she’ll fit in just fine.” At Krystoff’s raised brow, she explained, “I think she’ll be good for us. We get so involved in this lifestyle, so caught up in our own circles, that sometimes we don’t see what goes on in the world outside. I think Shaun will bring a fresh breath of the outside world to our family. New perspectives.”
Krystoff shook his head. “She is a highly intelligent foreigner from overseas, where freedom is prized above all else, including family. She will not settle easily.”
Dasha refused to back down. “Regardless, she’ll be a good match for Jozef. He needs some good in his life.”
“He has his family,” Krystoff said stubbornly.
“He needs more.” Dasha sealed her words with a kiss.
Krystoff could never resist her kisses. He gripped the back of her head and deepened the kiss, uncaring of his wound. He rolled her beneath him, dragging her bathrobe open. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in his wife.
Chapter Thirteen
Shaun stretched, luxuriating in the feel of soft blankets and silky sheets. She rolled onto her side and curled up, rubbing her cheek against the smooth fabric of the pillow. A delicious scent teased her nose. It was familiar but she couldn’t place it. She buried her head in the pillow and breathed in. It was a masculine scent, like natural body odour mixed with something spicy and leather. It was nice.
She frowned. Had she brought a guy home the night before?
Her eyes flew open and she sat up with a gasp, staring around in consternation. The light filtering through the curtain-covered windows was dim and it took her a moment to realize where she was. She was not in her small room with her lumpy bed in Luhansk.
The events of the day before rushed at her in flashes. She pressed her spine against the headboard and covered her face with her hands. What had she gotten herself into?
Her mother warned her that something might happen if she continued to work with Doctors Without Borders. Shaun had shrugged off her mother’s concern and done her best to reassure Fatima, but the reality was her job could be dangerous. She worked in war zones, felt the vibrations in the ground as bombs went off nearby. She often treated infectious diseases that were nonexistent in Canada. She could’ve been killed at any moment. In fact, she’d had colleagues killed at similar camps.
But nothing she'd ever done had prepared her for this. To be kidnapped by a mafia family and dragged into the Czech Republic, where she was told she would soon be married to the scariest member of the family. Her situation defied imagination. It was like a movie, and everyone knew how mafia movies usually ended.
One thing was for certain, Shaun would have to find a way out. But before she could figure out a plan that wouldn't get her shot, she was going to have to find a bathroom. Her morning bladder was screaming at her to get her ass out of bed and moving.
As she was shoving the blankets off her legs, she realized she was in the bed and not on the couch. This thought made her freeze all over again as she contemplated how this was possible. Jozef must've moved her. She wasn't entirely surprised that she hadn't woken up through the process of him lifting her off the couch and placing her on the bed. Shaun had slept in some pretty unsavory conditions and had grown used to sleeping through just about anything.
She pushed herself out of the bed and stood, looking around. Besides the door leading out into the main room, which she suspected was locked, there was another door. She headed in that direction, hoping for a bathroom.
She was pleased to find that she was correct and quickly did her business, flushing the toilet and washing her hands. Once this was finished, she looked around the spacious bathroom, noting the opulent features. She hadn't seen much of the Koba family mansion yet, but what she had seen was an interesting mix of modern convenience and old-fashioned luxury.
Everything was made out of heavy, good quality woods and marbles. The bathroom itself had both a deep tub and a shower, both spotless. The large vanity stretched from one end of the bathroom to the other with two sinks in it. Off to the side was a display of fresh lovely smelling orchids. She would bet her freedom Jozef had nothing to do with their presence. Which meant there were maids coming in, probably daily, to clean and leave freshly cut flowers.
Perhaps this could be an avenue of escape for her. If she managed to convince one of the staff to help her, she might be able to get out of the mansion unscathed. The staff would know every entrance and exit and how much security was in place.
Shaun decided to risk taking a shower. She hadn't bathed in three days and was ready to feel clean again. She was pleased to find a lock on the bathroom door and flipped the latch. It made her feel safer as she stripped off her scrubs, wrinkling her nose at the smell. She’d been kidnapped in those scrubs, forced to work on a dying man, run for her life through the woods, and slept in them twice. She had no issues if she never saw them again.
Shaun heated the water and stepped under the spray, moaning in gratitude as hot water rushed over her naked body. Many of the places she travelled to didn't have hot water unless it was boiled. Her tiny apartment in Luhansk had a tiny heater for the whole building, which meant she hadn't had a truly hot shower in four months.
She took her time, carefully scrubbing each part of her skin and checking out the products available. They were all masculine and none were particularly fancy. A tiny part of her was gratified that there didn't seem to be the presence of another woman in Jozef's bathroom. Not that she was jealous, but if the man was talking about marrying her, the fact that there didn't seem to be any hint of a girlfriend made her feel marginally better about the whole situation.
She finished her shower and reached for a towel, realizing that there was only one nearby. Probably Jozef's. She pulled it off the rack and held it up to her body, sniffing it. A wave of his scent hit her so hard it took her by surprise. She gasped and nearly dropped the towel as her body reacted instinctively, flooding with desire.
She did not need that, not at all. She was getting the hell out of here at the first opportunity and no part of her was going to be attracted to her captor. She quickly dried off and tossed the towel back on the rack, not bothering to tidy it properly. She didn't particularly want to put on her dirty scrubs, but she didn't have anything else to wear.
She pulled her shirt over her head and dragged the pants over her legs but stuffed her dirty panties in her pocket. She absolutely refused to put dirty panties on. She had to draw the line somewhere.
She opened the door to the bathroom and froze when she spotted Jozef in the bedroom. He was sitting on the bed, his arms slung over his knees and his gaze on the phone in his hand. He looked up when she entered, his blue eyes roving over her body.
They stared at each other for so long the moments began to stretch and get awkward. Shaun wondered if he did it on purpose. Used his lack of voice to disconcert others. Well, it wasn’t going to work on her. In her profession she met every kind of person under the s
un. She’d had more than her fair share of awkward conversations.
“I would like to talk to my mother please,” she said, trying for a tone of confident and deferential at the same time. She could get angry later if she had to, but she figured being on her best behaviour would probably get her further.
Jozef shook his head.
Shaun frowned at him. “No, I can’t call my mother?”
He shook his head again and this time Shaun had to shove her annoyance down, reminding herself she was talking to a killer.
“My mom will be worried, Jozef.” Shaun kept her voice conciliatory. “She’ll be devastated when she hears that I was taken from the hospital.” She bit her lip to stop the rush of tears. “She probably already knows and is freaking out.”
Jozef continued to stare at her, his eyes taking on a glacial look. He didn’t respond and Shaun guessed he didn’t need to. He’d told her ‘no’ twice. Nothing she said was going to change his mind. Still, she had to try.
“I’m the only person my mother has left. If she thinks I’m dead, it’ll devastate her.”
He remained unmoving and Shaun’s shoulders slumped. He wasn’t going to allow her to contact her mother. Jozef may have preserved Shaun’s life, but that didn’t mean he owed her anything, including a phone call. She blinked back her tears.
Jozef pointed to something at the bottom of the bed and she realized it was a bundle of clothes. She approached cautiously, but was eager for something else to wear, so reached for the clothing, despite their proximity to Jozef. Knowing that he could reach out and grab her as quick as a snake frightened her. She'd seen him kill two people, felt the cold press of steel against her head as he came seconds away from murdering her.
Until she found a way out of this place, she wasn't going to do anything that might piss off her captor. Or at least she was going to try her best not to upset him. She would wear his clothes, eat his food and sleep on the couch. She would play ‘good captive’ until she found a way out.
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