by Lietha Wards
“You are not used to being called on that.”
“No,” he said honestly.
“Well when you’ve been the daughter of a chronic liar, it’s easy to see sometimes. Besides, your size tells me something different. Somehow I have a feeling that you weren’t the object of school yard bullies.”
“I was a late bloomer.”
Resisting another smile at his jest, she shook her head, “You’re too self-confident to get me to believe that. A man who has been picked on carries that with them no matter how old they are. Besides, my father would have made sure you didn’t have any hidden issues.” Her face pinched up in anger and she turned away again.
“He seems concerned enough.” Well, he didn’t think so but it felt like the right thing to say.
“If he was, my sister would still be alive.” She said without looking at him. The last two words were choked out. She could hear Anna’s screams and resisted covering her ears. It would do no good anyway. It was inside her head.
Ryan couldn’t help but feel for her even though he tried not to—he needed to stay focused on his goal. She had been through an unspeakable horror. Despite what people thought of him, or knew of him, he understood her pain more than anyone.
“The men that kidnapped me said he was a drug dealer, a—a—” she swallowed again trying to regain control of her emotions, “—pimp. When I didn’t believe them, they showed me pictures.”
So she wasn’t always blindfolded. She was vulnerable and let it slip. He suspected that she knew things about her captors from the beginning, but he wasn’t going to interrogate her. Besides, it wasn’t them he was after—yet.
She met his gaze again and her eyes were more moist. She wasn’t crying but the slight pinking of the lids made him realize that she was straining not to. “I can’t comment on that.”
“Of course not. You are a professional, and you work for my father. You take orders from him, not me. You are here to do a job.” She said icily. “I’ve had security before. I know what it entails.” He was no different than the rest of the men her father had working for him; like trained dogs.
Not like me, you haven’t. “My concern is your protection, not your father’s business. In fact, he never told me anything, but your abduction was widely publicized, because he is an influential business man.”
“A businessman who uses that and his position as a council member to cover his illegal operations. I’m sure you have some idea of what he does. You don’t strike me as a stupid man.” She bit her lip and turned away. “Every time I hear of someone overdosing on the news…I wonder…I wonder, if it was my father’s drugs that did that to another human being. How can someone live with themselves over that?”
“It doesn’t matter what he does.” Ryan reiterated. Of course it mattered, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let on to anyone that it did.
“Wow, he must be paying you a lot of money,” she said sarcastically. When he didn’t answer she nodded, giving up on the subject. “Fine then, if you won’t let me in on what you know about him, let’s talk about you.”
He shook his head while looking down at her.
“I won’t feel secure unless I know a bit about you.” She paused meeting his eyes, “I won’t trust you. Or, are you just another brainless puppet that my father hired to follow orders?” She knew he wasn’t, but she was angry and was willing to compromise for a fight. He never took the bait. He was too darn smart.
He stared at her for a moment watching emotions play over her face. He expected her to trust him, to listen to him if things got hairy. He was prepared for revealing some of himself, but not enough to put his true intentions on the stage and not so soon. “All right then. I’ll answer a few questions.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-two.”
“I thought you seemed a little young for—“
“I’ve been in military school since I was eleven.” He knew she was going to tip on his experience. He also knew that her father already had all the information he expected him to have, so repeating this wasn’t anything new. “I enlisted at eighteen, special ops by twenty one. The rest—is classified.”
“You’re a mercenary?” She said it in a way that was far from complimentary.
Actually it was deeper than that and he found that term distasteful. However, that’s the image he was portraying. He just nodded, “Somewhat.”
Her eyes took on a suspicious look. She knew he was more than just a mercenary and maybe she shouldn’t have called him that. Maybe she was trying to push his buttons. However, it didn’t faze him. Then again, for some reason, she knew it wasn’t often something did with him. “My father seems to have an affiliation for them, but you’re actually trained by professionals. Most of the men my father hires are rebels from the Chechnya province. They would kill anyone for a buck. He never kept that a secret from us even though we thought it was because of the protection he needed with his legitimate businesses, and they were Russian, and his own countrymen so they were loyal.” Her eyes went over him trying unsuccessfully to read his expression. She should have known better, he was trained to keep it unreadable. Yet, she was wondering how he felt about the mercenaries her father hired. She had grown up around security like that, but it was obvious this man was different. He seemed to have a certain class about him that the others lacked. “How loyal are you Mr. Casey?”
“Loyal enough,” He answered easily, and honestly. “Loyal enough to protect you with my life.”
“My father must be paying you a lot of money for that statement of devotion. You don’t even know me.”
“He is,” he stated casually, “but I will earn it.”
“Have you protected people before?”
“Many.”
“Any die?”
“Yes.”
She waited for him to elaborate but he didn’t, “Was it your fault?”
“Even if it wasn’t, I take the blame because I could have prevented the circumstances.”
“Was it your fault?” she repeated.
“As I said, so yes.”
“That’s not what I asked, Mr. Casey. This is important to me.”
He tilted his head. “Why?”
“You want me to trust you. I need to know why you are taking the blame for something that wasn’t your fault.”
After a moment of thought, he decided to answer her. “The man I was protecting was a European diplomat. He had several mistresses on the side. He’d had numerous death threats but insisted on seeing—a woman for sex, against my instruction. It turned out, she was the assassin. Now you might understand why I need you to listen to me.”
“Oh.” She pinked up slightly. “Well, I have no worries in that department. I don’t have secret rendezvous.”
Now that was surprising. She was beautiful, young, sophisticated and it was obvious that men would desire her. He’d seen photos of her before the abduction, before the physical damage. She was, and still is, as far as he was concerned, a credit to her sex. Hell, he only knew her for about an hour and found himself attracted to her. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t keep their relationship professional, he could. He would just ignore the attraction. Yet, he also felt compassion for her. She must’ve have went through some unthinkable things in captivity, however, she still carried herself proudly. Even though she was spoiled by her wealthy father, she was a proud person. He actually admired that.
“We have something in common Mr. Casey.”
“Oh?”
“Like you, my father sent me off to boarding school when I was young. I was barely six.” Her eyes went back to his, “I can relate.”
“That’s quite a distance.”
“My mother wanted us close, but he didn’t. Now I know why. He had secrets. He didn’t want us to know. Even when she died, he didn’t bring us home for her funeral.” Her eyes went to his again, “Does it bother you to work for a criminal—a murderer?”
He shook his head not saying anything.
Of course it did.
Inside Katya felt her anger rise, “Because of the money? Men are all alike. You are no better than he is.” She turned away and looked out the window and kept silent for the rest of the ride home.
Ryan didn’t say anything. He wasn’t going to tell her his reasons and he wouldn’t fault her for her opinions, because it looked exactly like that. It’s what he wanted it to look like. He had his own interests for being here. She was a way in. He didn’t care about her or any of the Nickolov family. He’d take them all down just to get revenge for his brother and his family.
As for money, he already had enough to make him comfortable. He didn’t live excessively because he liked the simple life. Except for the villa in France, his apartment in New York was of middle class. He also had a log home on lakefront property in northern Canada and owned the surrounding few hundred acres to go with it. He liked his privacy and solitude. There weren’t many people he trusted.
When the car pulled through the wrought iron gates of the estate she turned her head and looked at him again, but didn’t say a word. He returned her gaze with attractive grey eyes. She knew this man was more than capable of protecting her. She’d had bodyguards in the past and they were arrogant, self-assured and big, but this man, he carried himself a little different. He’d seen things and done things the others hadn’t. It was just a sense she got off of him. He didn’t brag about himself like the others did either. Also, she was always able to manipulate the others to get her way, but for some reason she knew it would be lost on him. There was a sharp intelligence in his grey eyes. Maybe there was some compassion for her there too. She might have caught a glimpse of it when she first met him, but he’d yet to reveal it again. She trusted her instincts. She was certain she saw it. It made her want to trust him, but she was all out of trust at the moment. He was also the first person that hadn’t tried to interrogate her. If anything, he seemed disinterested. For the past week every government official, from the police to the FBI, marched into her hospital room demanding to know what happened. Then her father came. She threw a vase at him. Then he sent his men. They barely made it out unscathed. He had some nerve! She never revealed anything to any of them. She would take what happened to her grave.
She continued to study him, to distract her—or rather, he was distracting. Her father definitely spared no expense with this man. Mr. Casey was very handsome, and as she thought before, he took care of himself. He was big, and muscular from the way his suit fit. It was tailor made, expensive. He had wide shoulders, thick chest, and a flat stomach. His legs were long, but he was tall. Her eyes went to his shoes noting that they were spotless, military style. In fact, everything about him was disciplined. Her father’s employees wore expensive suits, but unlike them, this man made the suit, not the other way around. Also, their shoes never showed the cleanliness this man’s did. Then, there was her father. He wouldn’t have hired anyone but the best. He was trying to get her to forgive him, or more than likely, not tell the authorities who he really was. Well, it would be a cold day in hell before she forgave him or told anyone anything. He was still her father. Even though she honestly never knew him, or would have endured what she did because of who he was, she couldn’t bring herself to let anyone know about him. She shuddered hoping it wasn’t physically visible.
She never really knew her father because he never was close with either of his children. They were raised in boarding schools and by nannies. She always knew him as short tempered and intolerant. He was no more than a stranger growing up. She and Anna were expected to play a part at social functions, and she did what she was raised to do. He showed pride at his daughters in the public, but barely paid attention to either one of them in private. She thought that was normal until she was in her late teens and saw how loving her friends’ parents were with their children.
She swallowed hard again trying to resist the tears that threatened to fall. Anna was dead. They tortured, raped, mutilated and killed her and made her listen to everything as a warning to her father. Then they left her terrified and alone, blindfolded and tied, her clothes in tatters, in front of one of his houses three days later. Now every time she closed her eyes images would flash before her. She could never forget what had happened.
Neither one of them knew the secrets that her father had, but she certainly did now. Why they murdered Anna and kept her alive, she’d never know. There were a few times that she was so terrified that she wished it was her that they killed. She hadn’t been able to sleep without some sort of light on since.
She focused on the gardens the car cruised past still trying not to weep. Suddenly a white handkerchief appeared in front of her. With deep breath and without a word she reached up and took it. She wasn’t crying, but she was close. She was certain she didn’t let a sign of it reach her expression. Obviously she didn’t do a very good job of hiding her feelings from him. This was something she had to work on.
Her eyes flicked back up to his, then to the front of the large stone mansion that came into view. She was thinking how much she wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere but here. Disgust and anger welled up in the pit of her stomach making it churn. This was a death house.
“Are you going to throw up?”
Her attention went back to her new bodyguard. He was still watching her intently. It was a dangerous combination, being intuitive as well as intelligent. He read her too easily. Yet, she was certain he wasn’t going to let her know the real him. It was hard to trust someone, anyone, when the world you thought you lived in was a lie. Ryan was a professional and how was she supposed to trust him when she didn’t know him? That just wasn’t going to happen. Yet, she’d been lied to her whole life by people closer to her than him. Trusting an outsider seemed to be the only recourse at the moment. He’d stated he would risk his life to save her. She believed him. “No,” she finally answered. She was close to it though so she didn’t even deny the queasiness.
He nodded that he’d heard her.
The car circled around a paved driveway and came to a stop in front of the stone steps. Ryan got out just as several servants came out to get her bags. He held his hand out for Katya who ignored it and stepped out on her own. He wasn’t put off by it. He knew she was not happy about him being around her besides being back in a house full of people she loathed. She was forced to stay there with someone she blamed for her sister’s death and caused her suffering. He honestly didn’t expect her to come around and warm up to him either.
When they found her there was a note pinned to her chest. All it said was ‘not done.’
“Welcome home Miss Nickolov,” greeted Ivan as she walked by. He smiled affectionately at her.
Katya never said anything. She never even spared him a glance. All of this was a complete lie. She’d known Ivan since she was six, yet he was part of this deceit that her father put on. He knew about his business, and protected him. She would never trust him again. Secondly, this wasn’t her home. She’d only lived here a short time only in her last few years of high school. Her father had sent her away at a young age to be raised by strangers and she promised herself that she’d never consider it home now.
Ivan’s face fell in disappointment. Then, he looked past her to Ryan.
Ryan just raised his brows as if to say, ‘What do you expect?’ as he followed her through the foyer to the marble cased stairs.
Ivan narrowed his piercing blue eyes on Ryan’s back. He had asked Peter for the chance to guard Katya. He’d seen her grow up and protected her. Mostly, he’d been in love with her since she turned eighteen. Peter refused him even though he’d given him fourteen years of unwavering loyalty. They needed an outsider, he said, because she didn’t trust any of them and he needed her safe. Ivan didn’t think that applied to him, but after that display, he knew he was wrong. He was angry over her reaction to him. He couldn’t have her feel that way about him. He’d find a way back into her heart. As for that man that his boss brought in, he’d find a way to discredit
him.
Ryan opened the door to her room and did a routine check before allowing her in.
“It’s my room. I don’t think there are monsters in the closet,” she said coolly visibly angered that he inspected her private room. It was invasive and even her father’s men never stepped foot in there. It was also probably the only place she could expect solitude and she certainly didn’t like a stranger poking around in it. Besides, the estate was well protected and she doubted very much that anyone would risk the numerous guards, pit bulls and guns that lurked inside the secluded iron gates and brick walls.
He ignored her and walked over to the door adjoining their rooms and opened it. “This stays open,” he said beginning to step through it.
She was slack-jawed. It was then that she realized that her father placed him in the room right next to hers, not downstairs with the rest of his men. She was appalled and rushed up to him, fuming. “Oh! No it doesn’t.” she protested, “I will not have you peeking in on my while I dress!”
Well, there goes the solemn demeanor. Again he found himself resisting a smile. He paused and turned back to her, “You have a dressing room, a bathroom and a disgustingly overlarge wardrobe closest. If you wish to strip your clothes off while I’m in the line of sight I’ll presume you want me to see something. Besides, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Her cheeks heated up. He had some nerve! “Don’t be absurd!” she shot, “I’m just not used to having a man within breathing distance. I may forget that you’re there. The rest of the men have comfortable quarters downstairs! You should be with them.”
“First of all, I doubt you won’t see me,” he said. “I’m hard to miss. Secondly, I’m not one of those men. I’m strictly here as your protection, not as your father’s henchman, so I stay close.” He gave her a sloppy smile before he went through the door.
She glared at his back wishing she had something in reach to throw at him. How dare he argue and mock her! Well, at least he one thing right. He certainly wasn’t like her father’s men.