I meander to the large closet and whip open the double doors. Nothing out of the ordinary in here, just linens, bath soaps, and robes. I seize one of the robes from the hanger and slip it over my shoulders. The fluffy material swallows me whole and feels like wearing a cloud.
Steam wafts from the shower, so I toss the wrap onto a hook and slide the shower doors open. A humid fog spreads from within and I disappear under the scorching waterfall. A puff of steam escapes the chamber like a mist, filling the bathroom while the rushing shower drenches my thirsty skin.
Closing my eyes, I let the refreshing rain drip down every crevice of my weary body. I’m sick of Alexei and we’re not even married yet. I hate to think of the next twenty years under his scrutiny.
A jostling beyond the shower door meets my ears, but I chalk it up to one of the lady goons sent to shoo me from my one slice of heaven before I enter the abyss with Alexei. Well, screw them. I’m not close to being done.
Without looking out the only entrance, I predict Alexei’s men guard the room. It’s highly unlikely I can slip by undetected. Oh, well. It’s not like I have anyone to run to anyhow.
I reach for the shampoo, but don’t find it. I take a step closer to where it should rest, exploring with my hands. When my fingers come across something unexpected, I pop my eyelids up.
“You are definitely not the shampoo,” I address, meeting an electrifying gaze.
“No. I most certainly am not,” emits Dylan’s quiet answer.
He’s alive. I fucking knew it! Take that rom-coms! I review his body. Somehow, he managed to shed every article of clothing from the other side of the shower door without me knowing. Damn he looks like a wild man silently hungering for me. I part my lips to offer a sassy reply. Those are my best ones after all.
Instead, Dylan pushes my back against the shower wall. The frigid stone sends goosebumps over my body despite the piping hot water currently racing down my face. He presses his naked torso to mine. How he managed to slip in without being caught is curious, but I don’t give a shit. He’s supposed to be dead, but I’m staring at him through waterlogged eyelashes. My relief to see him nearly outweighs my grievances against him.
“How—” I whisper, but he cuts me off with his lips over mine. His full, lively lips that want to devour me. He gives me a tiny taste, and I whimper when he pulls away.
“I’ll explain everything later. We don’t have much time.” He pushes back my hair. “I had to see you.” His brow furrows, which causes his face to darken. “You can’t marry Alexei.”
“I don’t have much of a choice.” A trickle of water races down his torso, disappearing between his masculine curls. “They’re waiting outside for me.” He offers me a defiant glare. “I can’t run. Wherever I go, he’ll find me.”
Plus, I can’t admit my alternative agenda. My lashes dip over his muscular body. It’s eerie to be here with him. Mary mother of God, I’m glad he’s alive, but I won’t allow myself to express the mushy-gushy emotions I harbor. His escape was borderline miraculous, and I’m glad, however he managed the illusion.
Cupping his face, I kiss his bottom lip. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this but, I’m relieved to see you’re still around.”
I stop myself before I get all lovey-dovey. I’m better than that. I don’t get involved. My lips linger on his chin. Until now. Until him. Whoever he is.
He chuckles that sexy sound of his. Dylan’s eyes flick over my body then return to my face. “All I want to do is fuck you until the shower walls tumble around us.”
I shiver at his suggestion. “Sounds like heaven to me.”
He lets out a ragged breath. “But we can’t. Not yet.” Pointing his index finger sternly, he resolves, “You’re not marrying Alexei. I won’t let you.”
“But—”
He silences me by placing his finger over my mouth. Horrible idea right there. I raise my eyes and he reads my filthy thoughts. He sees how I want to ravish him until he moans my name. “Mishka, later,” he growls when my eyes glaze over.
He knows me too fucking well. “Fine,” I return, stepping out of his embrace. “But if you don’t make it up to me, I’ll never forgive you.” I don’t expect him to. I’d be naïve if I did. Whatever he’s planning will end in his passing. I’ll be given the opportunity to grieve him for real. Awesome-sauce.
Dylan offers me a lethargic yet confident smile. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll do more than make it up to you.” His arms loop around my waist while his eyes surf my pleasure-ridden body.
Before I can offer an equally inappropriate innuendo, a voice cuts through the bathroom door. “Mishka! Hurry, girl. It’s time!” The woman speaks in hushed tones.
“One minute! I’m lathering my hair,” I respond, hoping the woman leaves me alone. How the hell she pried the door opened, I’ll never know.
“You’ve less than that before I finish it for you,” shouts her loud response.
I turn to Dylan and twist my lips. “My master beckons me away to marry him.”
With slow movements, I wash my hair, allowing Dylan his fill of eye candy. It could be his last.
“I’d invite you to the wedding, but I think it’s a rather private affair,” I remark, rinsing my body of soap.
Placid eyes follow my hands as I sprawl them over my breasts. “I’d rather spend time with you outside of a church. Way outside.” He trails his hands down my slippery body. “But I can make do with a religious screw.”
Turning the shower off, I flick him a grin. “Maybe you can join us on the honeymoon.” He tosses me an annoyed glance. One that clearly shows the only way he wants to come on the honeymoon is if he’s the groom. His possessiveness is a complete turn on. It’s not a brutal greed. It’s a jealously every woman craves from a man.
I wrap the cashmere towel around my waist and step out of the foggy stall. “You better disappear before she comes back.”
He emerges from the tiled shower, not bothering to cover himself. My eyes are glued to him as he saunters to the closet where his clothes are hidden.
“I’ll be seeing you soon,” he assures, slipping on his pants. Droplets of water drip from his hair tempting my fingers to plunge through the lengths.
I don’t respond. I don’t believe him. How can I? He was spared from a train bombing, but I don’t know how yet. Hmm, a lot of men survive death around me lately. Weird.
My eyes follow closely as he opens a loose board from one of the closets. “So, that’s how you got in. The hotel should look into their secret passageways,” I point out, drying my hair with the towel.
“Yeah, laugh it up now.” He inches to me and pulls his body flush to mine. “You’ll be saying something much different later,” he predicts, pecking my neck. If there was ever a moment to freeze time, it’s now.
“Don’t you dare marry that asshole,” he directs against my neck. “You aren’t meant for him.” He kisses me soundly this time then smuggles through the hole. Replacing the board, his muscular body disappears from sight.
I stand in silence and contemplate the recent events. Him cheating death complicates things. I mean, I’m glad he’s not six-feet under, but I’m worried about what he’s going to attempt.
As I hear the bathroom door swing open, I wish I can stop him. For someone who claims to have no heart, I’m failing to prove my words. I want Dylan safe; I need Nickolas safe; and I crave Eddie’s safety. Yep, I’m legitimately fucked.
“Let’s go, Ms. Vald! You’re getting married!” The shortest troll brightly states, waddling to me.
“Not like I have much of a choice.” Cursing beneath my breath, I need to pace myself if I’m going to get through the day.
Sure, Dylan said he’s going to save me from my inevitable wormhole of a wedding, but when have I ever relied on a man to do what he says? Never. Okay, maybe once. Fine, twice. More than that if you count Dylan. Fuck, but should I? Definitely not.
***
This dress makes me look like the love child of a
giant cloud and a frumpy marshmallow. What a superb start to my brimstone wedding. I review my body, which has no shape whatsoever. The dress disguises whatever vague figure I have left. I’m not sure if that’s Alexei’s point or if public ridicule is the ultimate goal. Either way, I hate this day almost as much as I hate waiting in the foyer of the Russian Orthodox Church for my groom-to-be. It’s humorous since I’m the one who’s racing down the aisle.
I look around at the three women cornering me with their rotund bodies. Damn, I can’t even pee when I want. Not that I’d be able to in this garb.
The one time I managed to escape the troop was in the hotel bathroom. That place was my holy site. I contacted the agency and they gave me the approval to do whatever necessary to desiccate the skhodka. I don’t have any weapons, but my marriage will suffice. Despite going in blind, it’d be nice to know the agency was nearby in case I need help. I’m a liability to all parties involved, so I might as well be a good one.
The church is disconcertingly quiet. I don’t know why I expect it to be stuffed full, but I hoped more than a few dozen people would witness the blessed event of my wedding. The one thing getting me this far is the fact that revenge will be served on the men who had a hand in my mother’s death. The rest are details.
The door adjoining the rooms opens and Nickolas strolls into view. Though surprised he’s alive, I’m comforted as well. With us being in cahoots, I assumed Alexei would’ve put one through Nickolas’s gorgeous eyes the moment he made himself known.
Eying my lover of Christmas past, I notice he looks uptight today. Granted, I would be too if I tried to steal my boss’s empire and fiancée out from under his nose. From the look on Nickolas’s face, he’s straddling death as it is. There’s no playful grin to take the edge off the day, but a scowl in its place. I could use an interruption, and pestering my could’ve-been husband seems like a good one.
“Hey, Nickolas.” I attempt to walk to him. The bloated dress and high heeled shoes leave me little choice but to abandon the act.
“Fucking heels!” I spew beneath my breath. One of the women clucks her tongue at me. Go screw yourself. These heels are not my idea of good shoe wear. Of course, I rock them when I’m not forced into a size too small that look like shoes my great-grandmother wore at her wedding.
“You’re beautiful,” Nickolas states, examining my form. “Well, mostly. Who picked the dress?”
I roll my eyes. He knows who chose the disaster. Nickolas tugs at my elbow and pulls me away from the prying ears of the sainted women.
“So much for our happily wedded bliss,” I joke when we’re clear of my entourage.
“This isn’t how I wanted your wedding day.” He delicately touches a puff of tulle. “I would treat you much better than he ever could.”
“I know you would.”
Studying Nickolas, I conclude he’s the better of the two evils. If I had to choose the skhodka, I’d much rather have Nickolas with me. “Too bad we can’t rewind, eh?”
“We’ll make this work. The agency expects us to.” He catches my hand and laces his fingers to mine discreetly. “I won’t leave you to this alone.”
“Nick, your days are as limited as mine,” I point out. “What you did during Alexei’s absence is common knowledge by now. He won’t forgive you.” My hand shakes at the truth. “He’ll kill you just like he’ll kill me.”
Lifting my hand to his mouth, Nickolas kisses it. “No. He won’t touch either of us.” I offer him a wary look. “Do you trust me, Mishka?”
I study the face I’ve grown to view as my lifeline and nod. “Yes.”
“Then trust that I’ll always find and protect you.”
As much as I yearn to believe his words, there are too many variables. Nickolas believes it and I can’t fault him.
Placing my hand on his cheek, I lean in close. “I know you will, Nickolas.” I press my lips to his jaw and step back. He looks so forlorn yet motivated. It’s an odd combination for his sky-blue eyes.
My vision catches Alexei in the distance. I let out a frustrated huff when I spot he’s prepared for the worst. Four bodyguards surround the man who will soon be mine. All mine. Oh, goody.
“You don’t have a knife handy, do you?” Nickolas’s bewildered expression is the funniest thing I’ve seen in months. “I’m kidding. I’ll use a gun next time I kill him.”
“Mishka, be—” he starts, but I interrupt.
“My fate awaits.”
Nickolas follows my gaze, but remains quiet. My guess is Alexei has him on an extremely tight leash after what he tried during his boss’s absence. He hates my soon to be spouse almost as much as I do. Almost.
I watch my future czar greet the skhodka members, then swing my eyes over the crowd. No children are in attendance, which is a bad thing. They’re expecting a fight. I continue my scan and wonder if anyone is showing metal yet. Boring, boring, mega boring, ugly, fugly and—. I stop judging the people sitting in the pews when I pinpoint a body I’m acquainted with. No fucking way. I blink twice, not believing my eyes.
“Fuck my bitch ass life,” I curse loud enough for someone to hush me. I toss the woman my middle finger then focus on the uninvited guest.
Sitting near the back of the cathedral sits an excruciatingly disguised, yet recognizable by me, Eddie Harper. What the hell is he doing here?
My palms turn to instant sweat and my throat dries. I haven’t thought of Eddie since we escaped from Verde with his men hot on our heels with loaded guns. I rack my brain trying to remember why I didn’t give him a second thought. Oh, that’s right, because he lied to my face and tried to kill me. I think it’s a good enough reason for anyone.
Studying his apparel, I take in his fur coat and matching hat. Not his typical garb. Maybe it’s not him. The man turns his head, and I gasp when Eddie’s eyes scan the vaulted room. Yep, it’s Eddie. I would recognize those eyes anywhere.
“Dammit, I’m so fucked today.” I flop my chin to my chest. “And not in a good way.”
I hear another shush from the troop of women who are supposed to keep me calm. Calm? Me? Today? No fucking way! Eddie’s here, Nickolas’s here, and fucking Dylan said he’s coming too. Oh, and let’s not forget Alexei’s presence. The man I killed somehow wants to marry me still.
I wring my hands together anxiously. Married to Alexei? Ugh. He’ll kill me tonight. Why else would he want to join our families? Marriage makes murder easier.
“Are you all right?” Nickolas asks, cutting into my rambling thoughts. “You look pale.” He frowns after scanning my body. “Well, paler than normal.”
I shoot him a disgusted glower. The man usually has a way with flattery. “I don’t know, but I think this day’s about to get a lot more interesting.”
Nickolas’s face turns into a puzzled expression, but I don’t bother explaining. I’ll let it unfold as it’s bound to happen. “Stay safe, Nick. I can’t lose everyone today.”
He pats my hand and attempts a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be fine and so will you.”
I don’t have time to answer. I don’t want to answer his serene loveliness. Nickolas doesn’t deserve to be here today. He should be somewhere far, far away. If Eddie’s here, the FBI is too.
Scanning the cathedral, I don’t see anyone out of the ordinary, but then again, I looked right over Eddie the first time. The FBI could be hiding in the rafters for all I know.
I wrangle my nest of a hairstyle, and pace. The sooner Eddie makes himself known, the better. It’ll start a chain reaction. One I’m sure will end in casualties.
My toes scream for abusing them in the tiny shoes, but I need to think this over. When Eddie pops up, Dylan’s sure to follow, which then will cause Eddie to set the cathedral on fire with FBI agents.
As expected, Nickolas will have a hand in all of this. He won’t stand by and twiddle his thumbs. As to which side he’ll be on? I haven’t the foggiest. He’s the wild card in this scenario. He may switch sides for his
own sake.
“Mishka, the time has come,” one of the women proclaims, tugging my arm. I timidly follow the shrouded woman who seems out of place. Her mannerisms don’t reflect one of a babysitter hired to rein me in.
“Who are you?” I question when she brings me to the dome entrance. I spot Alexei, waiting with the priest at the end of the aisle. Well, this is going to suck.
“I’m your mother. Keep your head down, Mishka,” the woman responds, stepping away swiftly.
My mouth drops open in astonishment, and I turn to find her weaving through the throng. What? That doesn’t make sense. The woman’s crazy. The phone call I received in Verde from the woman claiming to be Alena flashes through my mind. It’s not possible. She’s dead.
I lose her in the crowd and turn to see Alexei’s brow furrowed. I realize then that the processional music has begun and all eyes are on me. All fifty of them. Whoops, missed my cue.
Recognizing my frozen feet, Nickolas grabs my arm and half drags, half pulls me down the velvet aisle. My legs won’t function. My brain won’t spin. Nothing in my body is working. There’s too much happening and it’s overhauling my circuits.
I scan for Eddie and see him stand. Oh, shit, what’re you doing? Please don’t do anything dumb. Even though I detest him, my love remains. Yes, I know it’s a deplorable mess. Dumb me for allowing my passions to play into my wedding day.
Eddie moves to the aisle. Fuck, are you going to object? It’s not the time for that. At least wait until the priest says the phrase. I chide myself for falling prey to the romanticism. Eddie’s brash, but he’s not an idiot.
Nickolas squeezes my arm, and I rotate my eyes to him. He looks exceedingly worried. Almost as though he knows what’s about to go down.
“Don’t freak out. He’ll kill us all if you do,” he warns as we near Alexei. “And whatever you do, don’t resist. You’re going to be all right.”
Assassin by Day Page 21