I could feel tears brimming in my eyes. It can’t end like this. It can’t!
“Go!” Alexei told me.
They were going to take my man away from me. This whole stupid, macho organization, bound by tradition and rules, they were going to take him away when all he’d done was to do the right thing, to protect me. The tears were spilling down my cheeks, now. They were going to take him away from me….
Well, I wasn’t going to let them.
I flung myself at Alexei, grabbing him around the waist and hugging him tight. I fell to my knees and let myself slide down his legs, my face pressed hard against him. I heard Konstantin give a low sigh of regret and step forward to pull me off of him.
I pulled Alexei’s pant cuff up and clawed the spare gun from his ankle holster. I whipped around, clicked the safety catch off, and pointed it right at Konstantin.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I panted through my tears.
The room went absolutely silent.
Very slowly, I got to my feet. I tried not to think about the fact I was basically naked, Konstantin’s jacket flapping around me. I tried not to think about the guard’s gun, pointed at Alexei, or what would happen if the guy panicked.
My eyes never left Konstantin and his never left mine. I edged towards the door, grabbing Alexei’s arm as I passed him and pulling him with me. It seemed to take a thousand tiny, careful steps to get there. If I stumbled, if my gun wavered from Konstantin’s chest for a split-second….
We reached the door. Alexei bent and picked up his gun from the bottom of the stairs. He pointed it at the guard and the guard finally, reluctantly, lowered his own weapon.
I looked up the stairs, ready to ascend, but Alexei shook his head. “No. They’re waiting for us up there.”
“Where, then?”
He walked over to another door, much smaller than the one that led to the dungeon. This one was made of iron and secured with thick metal bolts. He slid them back and threw it open to reveal a tunnel.
“Konstantin’s escape route,” he said. “All the Bratva bosses have them.”
“How did you know about it?”
“I found the architect.” He looked momentarily guilty. “And broke his arm.” He pushed me into the tunnel.
“Gabriella?” Konstantin’s voice rang out from the dungeon. It was tight with anger, but there was just a touch of amusement and an edge of lust there, too. “I really hope we get the chance to meet again someday.”
I flushed, remembering how he’d made me feel, and said nothing.
“And Alexei?” Konstantin asked, “I hope you realize what a woman you’ve got there.”
Alexei glanced at me for a second and the look he gave me made my heart lift and soar.
He took my hand and we ran.
Gabriella
The only light came from some flickering overhead bulbs, barely enough to see by. The passage was lined with slabs of stone, rough under my fingertips as I skimmed them along it. Running in my heels was impossible, so I had to haul Alexei to a stop and pull them off my feet, then run with them dangling from my hand. From behind us, we could hear shouts—with their boss safe, the guards had given chase.
The tunnel seemed to come to a dead end. But then Alexei pointed to the rungs of a ladder, leading up into the darkness. He pushed me over to it and I discarded my shoes completely and started climbing. The iron rungs were like ice against my bare feet and hands.
We climbed for what felt like forever. There were no bulbs towards the top and we were in total darkness. Just as I thought I couldn’t haul myself up another rung, my knuckles scraped the ceiling. “There’s no way out!” I yelled down, panicked.
Then Alexei was with me, climbing up around me so that his chest was pressed to my back. Just the warmth of him against my chilled body made me feel better. “There’s a manhole cover,” he told me.
Footsteps below us. A torch probed the darkness, lighting us up.
Alexei reached up and heaved. There was a scrape of metal and a circle of starlit sky appeared. “Up!” he growled in my ear.
I climbed up and crawled out onto the ground. The Dread came back, that feeling of being all alone, so small in a huge, unfamiliar place….
I steeled myself, digging my fingernails into my palms. We were in the gardens of the mansion, hidden from the house itself by trees. A muddy path led through a hole in a hedge and at the end of the path I could see a car. Escape. Focus on that.
Alexei climbed out behind me and immediately I felt better. I could see torch beams stabbing up out of the hole, Konstantin’s guards were climbing the ladder and they were nearly at the top—
Alexei slid the manhole cover back over the hole, thought for a moment and then stood on it. Seconds later, the cover rocked as the guards tried to lift it.
“Get the car started!” said Alexei.
I ran down the path. But the heavy rain that morning had turned it into a quagmire and I was in bare feet, the mud oozing up between my toes. The further I went, the deeper I sank. Soon, I was gasping and panting, up to my knees in it.
“Hurry!” yelled Alexei. I looked back. The manhole cover was rocking violently—two or three guards must have been trying to lift his weight.
I gritted my teeth and waded on, every step exhausting. At the end of the path, I clawed my way up the grassy bank that led to the car. It wasn’t the sort of escape vehicle I’d pictured Konstantin having. It wasn’t an armored limo or a flashy sports car, just a nondescript Toyota. Maybe that was the point.
I stumbled up to it, my legs close to giving way. I grabbed the door handle. Locked. Shit!
“There’ll be a key somewhere,” Alexei yelled. “Look underneath!” The manhole cover was tipping crazily—he looked like a surfer trying to stay on his board.
I was almost sobbing with panic, now. I knelt down next to the car, the grass sticking to my muddy knees, and searched with both hands. Nothing, nothing, nothing...there! A metal box, fixed with a magnet. I ripped it off, tipped the key fob into my hand and hit the button. The car’s lights flashed as it unlocked.
I looked back to see Alexei jump off the manhole cover and run towards me. I scrambled in and got the engine started as guards poured out of the tunnel behind him. By the time he reached the car, there were at least six in pursuit.
“Go!” yelled Alexei as he threw himself in next to me. I hit the gas and we shot forward. At the end of the short access road we crashed through some bushes...and then we were on the main road and picking up speed.
I drove us back into the city, eventually pulling up on a busy street. I turned off the engine and slumped back in my seat, exhausted.
I tried to assess the situation. We were now on the run from Konstantin’s people as well as Nikolai’s. We’d failed to gain his help or get any more information about Seventeen. I was cold, nearly naked, covered in mud and utterly dejected.
“We should find a motel,” Alexei said. It came out almost as a groan of resignation.
I’d had enough.
“The hell with a motel,” I snapped. And I was out of the car before he could stop me, marching across the street. Tourists stopped to stare at the crazy woman wearing only a suit jacket, but I kept my eyes on the prize. Alexei caught up with me just as I walked up to the reception desk of the luxury hotel.
“I’d like a room,” I said. “No, a suite. The best you have.”
The clerk looked me up and down, trying to come up with a reply.
I pulled the thick stack of bills from the pocket of Konstantin’s jacket and slapped them down on the desk. “Now,” I said firmly.
Neither of us saw the car cruise slowly past outside—the same one that had been following us ever since we’d left Konstantin’s mansion. It pulled up across the street….and waited.
Alexei
After a full half-hour in the shower, Gabriella strolled back into the bedroom wearing a satisfied smirk and a white, fluffy hotel robe.
And, from what I could
tell, nothing else. I felt my cock harden as she walked towards me.
“I was right about this place,” she told me proudly. “Go try the shower.”
I sighed. “We shouldn’t stay. This place is too public. Too many people saw our faces, on the way in.”
“Go. And try. The shower. Then tell me you want to leave.”
I could feel myself weakening and that in itself made me angry. I’d never bent to anyone’s will before but with Gabriella I found myself wanting to make her happy. I was also learning that, once she’d made up her mind about something, she was about as easy to move as a tank, despite her small size.
Maybe it would be okay to stay, just for a little while. She deserved a little luxury.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll get clean, you sleep a little, and then we’ll go.” I grabbed a towel.
Gabriella jumped onto the bed and rolled onto her back. When I was halfway to the shower, she called after me. “Don’t be too long.”
I glanced back over my shoulder...and stumbled. She was lying back against the pillows and the neck of the robe had fallen open a little to reveal those smooth, soft breasts I loved so much. She had her hips twisted to one side and her legs pressed together so that she didn’t flash me, but the robe had ridden up enough to reveal tempting glimpses of upper thigh. Then she met my eyes, looking up at me from beneath her lids, and that was a thousand times sexier than any amount of skin.
I regained my footing and shut myself in the bathroom, then let out a long breath and slammed my hand against the tiles, frustrated by my own weakness. That woman damn well owned me. If I wasn’t worrying about her being in danger, I was wanting her. If I wasn’t wanting her, I was dreaming of some impossible future together.
Was it impossible? I sighed, my eyes closed and my head bowed. At the junkyard I’d told her how I felt. Since then, we’d barely had time to talk and, when we had, I kept thinking I was going to say the wrong thing and scare her away. My only experience of women had been one night stands: no last names, just clothes strewn on the floor and roughly fucking her until dawn. I had no idea how to do dating or romance.
I was in love with her. I knew that much. But where the hell did we go from here? Right now, things seemed to be going okay...but that was while we were running for our lives. If we came through this—and that would take a small miracle—and things calmed down and she had time to think about who I really was, what I was...would she hate me? Start to fear me again, like she did when we first met? She kept saying that it was okay, that I could change, but could I?
I straightened up and headed into the shower, determined not to enjoy it. I’d never understood the fascination women have with baths and showers. In the army, we used to have two minutes of icy water, no more, and nothing at all once we were out in the field. Days or weeks crawling through mud, and it never did us any—
Ahh.
The water didn’t splutter and drip like the shower head in my apartment: it crashed down like rain in a typhoon, soaking me instantly. And it wasn’t just barely warm, like the one at home—it was almost scalding hot, reaching deep down into my bones and banishing the chill there.
Just as I thought it couldn’t get any better, four more jets switched on, pummeling my body from the sides. The water didn’t feel like water anymore, more like I was being wrapped in a hot, healing blanket.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to stay in for a few minutes. Just so that I could say I’d tried it.
I stayed in for a lot longer. Twenty minutes, thirty—maybe longer than Gabriella had. Luxury felt good. I drifted off into a warm haze—a paradise where we weren’t being hunted, where I could be with Gabriella forever. I knew I was weakening, losing my edge. But the feeling of being relaxed and happy was just too seductive. I pushed all our problems away—they could wait until morning. For once, the most difficult decision I faced was whether to stay in the shower or go back to the bedroom where a gorgeous woman was waiting for me.
And that was no decision at all.
I cranked off the shower, toweled myself halfway dry and walked naked into the bedroom. It was all so alien to me, a world of softness and luxury I’d only ever glimpsed before—Luka’s limo, when I was a bodyguard, or the hotel room of a target, when I broke in to kill him.
The bedroom was as big as my apartment and this was just one room—the suite had a living area, too. There was an ice bucket with a complimentary bottle of champagne, three sorts of coffee and room service menus offering any conceivable type of food. Everything was polished until it gleamed, from the dark iron of the bed to the piano-black big-screen TV. Even the floor shone like glass. The bed was big enough for three or four and covered in white sheets and a silky purple comforter, together with a small mountain of bolster pillows and throw cushions. It was all too much...and yet, with Gabriella sitting in the middle, it looked just right: exactly what a woman of her beauty deserved.
She sat up a little, eyes widening in expectation. Then her gaze fell to my hardening cock. I said nothing, just stood there and gazed at her as she gazed at me, a feedback loop that made me harder and harder, hornier and hornier. I wanted her. I needed her.
I stepped closer. She looked so small on the bed, so vulnerable. So soft. And yet the last few hours had proven her to be anything but. Beneath that beautiful soft skin lay a core of pure steel.
“Thank you,” I said. I could hear the low growl in my voice. I just wanted to dive on her, but I needed to say this first.
“For what?”
“You saved me.” I winced as I thought of the danger she’d put herself in.
She looked up into my eyes. “You saved me first.”
I stepped even closer and she swung herself around on the bed and knelt up so that she was closer to my height. The movement made her breasts bob and sway under the robe. I swallowed. “You shouldn’t have done that—gone down to the basement with him.”
I thought she’d just nod, but she was unrepentant. “You told me he took call girls down there. You didn’t say it was a dungeon.”
“It was dangerous!” I started to get frustrated with her. “Dungeon, bedroom, it doesn’t matter.” Just the thought of some other man touching her sent white-hot rage through my veins. “Once you were alone with him, he could have done anything to you!”
Her eyes widened in fear...but then she squared her shoulders. “Better than you getting shot, trying to fight your way to Konstantin.”
I stared at her. This fragile little thing would do anything for me, I realized. She thought I was worth saving. She seemed so sure.
For the first time, I allowed myself to believe that she might be right. Maybe I could be more than just a killer. My anger collapsed.
“Just...don’t do it again,” I managed.
“Okay,” she whispered, eyes huge. And then I was kissing her, falling towards those eyes and that body like a parched man diving into the sea. I devoured her, both hands sliding across her cheeks to hold her in place while my tongue met hers. We both groaned as we moved with it. Every instant that our lips were in contact, it was as if an electrical circuit had been completed, the current throbbing through my body. I could feel my cock standing up against my stomach like a rock. My fingers tangled in her hair, so soft against my skin, and all I could think about was that creamy, satiny body under the robe—
And then I was pushing her back on the bed and climbing onto it atop her. I hunkered down over her, kissing down her neck, hating the robe for being in the way and yet loving it because now I’d get to slowly unwrap her. I pressed her down into the bed with my body—
She let out a little yelp. Not pain, exactly, but a warning.
I lifted up—and realized that her legs were awkwardly bent under her. I’d pressed her back onto the bed when she was kneeling and she hadn’t had room to straighten them. “Sorry,” I grunted guiltily, and lifted off her so that she could untangle herself.
She smiled up at me and unfolded her legs: a symphony of long, pale thighs an
d shapely calves that took my breath away.
I glanced down at us: her, so small and fragile; me, the big ape. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I blurted. Then, “You need to tell me, if I hurt you.”
“You didn’t,” she said quickly. “And I will.”
I lowered myself again, this time easing myself between her thighs. I didn’t want to go slow. I wanted to do things to her that would make one of Vadim’s hookers blush, but I was suddenly scared—Russian men can be rough in bed and I’d always been one of the roughest. And Gabriella was so...innocent. Back in the junkyard, we’d both lost control and I hadn’t thought about it. But now….
I battled with it, going back and forth. I could feel her soft body against mine, the heat of her throbbing against my cock through the robe. Every time I moved, her breasts rolled and squashed between us. All I wanted to do was to rip the top of it open and bare her...but, at the same time, all I could think about was that bastard Konstantin, tying her up so that he could have his twisted pleasure with her. Was I really any better?
“What?” she asked, looking up at me. “Alexei, what?”
I wasn’t good at this—talking about sex. I loved sex, but Russians don’t talk about it the way Americans do, with their endless magazine articles about thirty-six reasons to do this and seventeen ways to do that. We just do it. “You’re sure he didn’t hurt you?” I muttered.
She nodded firmly. “You got there before he had a chance to.”
“But you must have been scared.” I gently brushed her hair away from her face. “He had you tied up.”
“I’m okay,” she said softly. “I mean, it was scary, but it wasn’t like he was doing it to scare me—he thought I was a call girl, doing it all willingly. I’m glad you came when you did. But...you know. Being tied up was okay. Not with him—I didn’t even know him. But being tied up itself was okay.”
And then she suddenly looked away and her cheeks flared red, as if she realized she’d said too much. I stared down at her, stunned.
“Being tied up was okay?” I said slowly.
Kissing My Killer Page 19