by Amy Deason
Table of Contents
STONE COLD ANGEL
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
STONE COLD ANGEL
The Perfect Order Series
AMY DEASON
SOUL MATE PUBLISHING
New York
STONE COLD ANGEL
Copyright©2017
AMY DEASON
Cover Design by Melody A. Pond
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
Published in the United States of America by
Soul Mate Publishing
P.O. Box 24
Macedon, New York, 14502
ISBN: 978-1-68291-044-3
www.SoulMatePublishing.com
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
I would like to dedicate this book
to my husband, Shaun.
He has been extremely supportive
of my writing dreams
and continues to encourage
me every step of the way.
When I get irritated with my characters,
he makes me step away and breathe.
When I get stumped, he gives me inspiration.
And when I get discouraged,
he reminds me of how far I have come.
Thank you so much, babe.
I love you.
Acknowledgements
As my dream of a published author continues, I want to express my extreme gratitude to the many people who stood by me during the creating of this book. To those who supported me, listened to me, and inspired me. My family, friends, my wonderful editor Debby Gilbert, and my amazing cover artist Melody Pond. Thank you all so much for everything.
Chapter 1
She was getting close.
He could feel her pulse quicken with every breath she took. Sliding his hands over her body, he ventured lower, lower . . .
Oh yes, she was almost there.
On the bedside table, his cell phone rang, its shrill voice an explosion in the candlelit room. The lean, naked woman beside him jumped, forcing herself closer to his palm.
Keeping one hand in place on her sleek body, Nikolas retrieved the phone with the other.
“Good morning, Nikolas.” Charlie’s subdued voice echoed through the receiver. “Were you sleeping?”
“No. Working,” Nikolas answered remotely, his attention remaining centered on the woman next to him.
She crooned and moaned loudly as he continued to bring her closer to the edge of a powerful orgasm, his fingers working skillfully over her pliant, supple body. Reaching up, he pinched a taut nipple hard enough to hurt, making her squeal with pleasure. It’s the way she liked it. Pleasure and pain. And he was willing to inflict both to get the information he needed.
“So I hear,” Charlie replied blandly. “Well be quick. I need you to come into the office immediately.”
Ending the call, Nikolas turned back to the chore at hand. “Duty calls my dear, but first . . .” He removed his fingers, replacing them with his mouth and nipped roughly at her breast, forcing a shocked gasp from her. With his teeth still clamped on her nipple, he dropped his hand between her legs, not surprised to find her hot and wet. He had planned to take his time coaxing her before finishing with himself buried within her but his plans had changed.
Oh well, it happens.
With an expert touch, he moved his hand over the sensitive skin, feeling her tremble beneath his fingertips. “Now, Simone,” he whispered, biting her creamy skin again, “tell me what I need to know and I’ll give you what you want.”
Between shallow gasps and soft whimpers, the busty blonde beneath him was more than compliant, letting the secrets spill from her parted lips in a breathless rush.
“Thank you, my dear,” Nikolas murmured in her ear. Committing the information to memory, he swirled his hand against her body, continuing to draw out her pleasure until at last she cried out, begging for mercy. He was tempted to push for more but there was nothing else to be gained at this point. Besides, he was needed elsewhere. And he’d already gotten what he came for. Slipping his fingers deep inside of her, he drove her to a hard, violent orgasm. Her ecstatic screams filled the room as she writhed against his hand, her body shuddering as she came.
As her cries softened, he rose from the bed and picked his jeans up from the floor. Pulling them over his hips, he finished dressing silently, ignoring Simone’s ragged breathing. He grabbed his cell phone and shoved it into the pocket of his leather jacket. Without another word, he left the room and exited the building, dismissing Simone before he even started his car in the parking lot below.
Arriving at the penthouse apartment in record time, he threw open the door without knocking. His shoes sank in the deep, white carpet as he crossed the threshold. With pale blue walls, neutral-toned furniture, and simple, pastel artwork, everything about the office screamed of light, purity, and innocence. An obvious contradiction to the real purposes of this place and to those who met here, it was almost laughable.
The only other person in the room had her back to him, her hands clasped firmly behind her. Charlie Dubois, the leader of The Perfect Order, stood facing the windows, a solid wall of indestructible glass fifteen feet high and thirty feet wide.
Rich brown hair wound upon itself in a neat chignon, revealing a pale swatch of neck. The silk pant suit she wore, a dove gray number, hugged her curves gently, giving the allure of a soft, sexy woman but Nikolas kne
w better. He watched her examining him in the reflection of the glass, her beauty both cold and striking.
Yes, definitely a beautiful and desirable woman.
But it was all a deception. Just like everything else in The Perfect Order. Deception, secrets, murder. The basis of this top-secret organization. And the incredible lady with the flawless exterior was one of the most lethal people Nikolas had ever come across in his career. It was no secret to anyone on the inside that she was more dangerous than all of her operatives put together. Cold, ruthless, and practical, she was a force to be reckoned with and the very epitome of everything they were meant to become.
Beyond her, down below, the lamp posts, brightly lit at this ungodly hour, were minuscule, floating orbs pinpointing the intricate details of the Garden Bois de Boulogne.
“Have a seat, Nikolas,” Charlie said, her eyes remaining on the darkened glass.
Folding himself into an overstuffed chair the color of ash, he sat with his fingers linked and patiently waited.
“Did your informant give you what you needed?”
“Of course,” he answered with a sly grin. “Don’t they always?”
Her reflection smiled tightly. “Indeed. However, now we have another problem.”
Charlie’s words displayed no emotion, nothing to indicate a problem. But he would not have been called here like this if things were going smoothly. Something new had happened. And it probably wasn’t something good. It rarely was.
He raised his perfectly groomed eyebrows, feeling the hint of a smile on his lips. “Don’t we always?”
She turned, her cool green eyes slipping over him, her own lips drawn into a thin line. Stepping to the desk, she scooped up a manila folder and handed it over before settling in the chair opposite him. “It appears Phillip Montgomery’s daughter has decided to visit Russia.”
Scanning the documents inside, Nikolas absorbed each detail, memorizing them in minutes. Phillip Montgomery, widow, father, nuclear physicist, humanitarian. Nikolas closed the file and returned it to the desk before returning his eyes to the regal woman sitting across from him. “So I see. Though I doubt it’s simply because she wanted to visit the Kremlin,” he replied, his voice nearly buckling under the sarcasm.
Americans, he sneered, always getting in the way.
“Highly unlikely. She’s going to look for her father. Stupid girl,” Charlie muttered.
Continuing to look at him, she shook her head but her face remained impassive. “Dmitry has him. Which means he will never see the light of day again. He’s almost certainly dead by now. If not, he soon will be. There’s nothing more we can do for him.” Her tone was flippant, uncaring, cold. And absolutely typical.
Nikolas felt nothing at the news. No remorse, no empathy. That was life. Shit happens and it just so happened that this time it involved a United States scientist. “So you want me to go to Russia and grab the girl before they do,” Nikolas surmised.
A rescue mission. Great.
“Yes. She’s our best link to whatever nuclear research her father was working on.”
“Kind of reaching for straws now, aren’t we?” If the girl was the best they could hope for, the situation may be worse than he’d assumed.
“It is a long shot,” Charlie allowed, “but right now it’s all we have. So we need to move quickly.”
“What about the U.S. government? Won’t they be watching her every move now since her father is missing?”
“Of course they are. But not to worry, I’ve already taken care of that particular detail.”
It would be useless to ask how it had been taken care of. Charlie had her hands in just about every government agency in the world. Her reach was immense and her tactics were a secret known only to her. Closing the folder, he stood. “When do I leave?”
“In an hour. I’ve arranged everything for you. Cadence is scheduled to stay at the Hotel Dostoevsky, fourth floor, Room 218. As much as I would like for this information to be exclusive, Dmitry no doubt has already learned of her unexpected arrival. Just get her out of there and find out whatever she knows.”
“And if she refuses to cooperate?”
“Come now, Nikolas,” she replied lightly, tipping her head up at him, a soft smile on her well-manufactured face, “are you fishing for compliments? You and I both know how persuasive you can be. I doubt you will even have to do more than drop a few well-placed kisses her way.” A ripple of worry darkened her perfect features fleetingly. “Just be careful. The lure of a woman in trouble can be extremely powerful. As you well know.”
“No problem there. Women are such useless creatures. Excluding yourself, of course,” he amended with a short nod.
Charlie’s smile was delicate but it was her eyes which demanded his attention. Those icy orbs shone bright, momentarily losing their emerald-like edge as they searched his face.
“Nikolas,” she said, her cold, businesslike tone giving way to something foreign, something nearly resembling concern, “it’s not been long since Jenika. If you’re not up for this, I need to know.” Leaning forward, she interlocked her fingers. And waited.
Sharp pain speared his heart at the familiar name. Ignoring it, he returned her smile with one of his own, his lips feeling like ice. “Charlie, it’s been over a year. I’m fine.”
“Somehow I don’t believe you.”
“Well you should.” He tried to keep the growl from his voice. Displaying emotion now would only reassure Charlie that he was indeed, not fine. “I was fine when you sent me to lend a hand in New York, wasn’t I?”
“I’m still undecided.” Charlie raised her hands, her fingers forming a steeple just underneath her full bottom lip. “It’s true you did what you needed to but I wonder at what cost. Even Seth noticed something different about you.”
Nikolas started. “You talked to Seth about this?”
“You act shocked.”
“I apologize but I didn’t realize I was being scrutinized so closely.” Nikolas could tell his words came out short and clipped, effectively conveying his annoyance.
“Nikolas, don’t take offense,” Charlie said, dropping her hands to the desk. “You know I keep on top of everything. Including the mentality of every agent in my company. I have to. You are no exception.”
“Understood but I’m fine. I was fine then, I’m fine now. And why would you trust Seth anyway? He defected remember?”
“Defected is such a strong word.” Charlie dipped her head in his direction. “But yes, I suppose all things considered, he did. However, his senses are still as sharp as ever. I trust he knows an emotional struggle when he sees one. As do I.”
“There is no emotional struggle,” Nikolas argued. “I made a mistake and I have to live with it. Simple as that. Now,” he replied, standing, “if you are done psychoanalyzing me, I’m leaving. Unless of course, you don’t want me to go after all . . .” He trailed off, already knowing the answer.
Leaning back in her chair, Charlie regarded him for a long moment, scrutinizing him thoroughly before finally nodding her dismissal.
Escaping those piercing cat-like eyes, Nikolas raced to the airport just in time to board the plane. Settling into the seat, he stared out the window, not really seeing anything. He’d lied to Charlie of course. About Jenika. And she’d known he’d lied, sending him anyway. She could have passed this mission off to someone else but it would have been a waste of time, and time was something they didn’t have. As usual. Besides, she knew he was the best choice for the job. He knew Russia. He should anyway, having spent most of his unseemly childhood years roaming its streets. And should there be trouble, he knew how to disappear there better than anyone. He could be in and out in a matter of days. No problem.
As the plane rolled forward, he turned from the window and leaned his head against the headrest, clos
ing his eyes. And just like that, she was there.
Jenika Malikov. The face he could never forget. Jet-black hair in a choppy pixie cut, electric-green eyes full of laughter, and a full, luscious mouth that had never stopped smiling. At least not until the very end when the fire leapt at her, ripping the piercing screams from her throat. Screams forever imprinted on his soul.
Good Lord, how could he have hoped Charlie knew nothing about his true feelings after the fire? The woman was as sharp as they came. And what she didn’t see, someone else did. Like Seth. With only a few words spoken between them in New York, he’d picked up on something Nikolas had thought was completely hidden from sight and then relayed it to Charlie.
He should be furious but he wasn’t. Not really. He would have done the same thing. It was the way they survived within the organization. Knowing every detail of everyone’s life. Even the painful parts. And Jenika was most definitely a painful part.
What a mistake.
He’d fucked up big time there. And he continued to fuck up each time he allowed himself to think of her. Each time he let those memories creep in. It was stupid really. And frustrating as hell. Over the years, he’d learned to control every part of himself. His mind and his body. He was able to block out everything, every emotion, every thought and do what had to be done. Whether it was killing or sex, he could do it. Man or woman, young or old, he’d done it all without fail. It was all part of the job. But when it came to her . . . Dear Lord, he’d been helpless from the moment he first laid eyes on her. And he’d paid for it. But not as much as she had.
He deserved the pain and the torture each memory of her brought him. He’d made a choice and a beautiful, young woman had lost her life in the worst way because of it. So hell yes, he deserved to relieve the horrendous night over and over again. It was his punishment and he had to live with it. But right now he had a job to do and he couldn’t let anything get in the way. Not even his self-imposed hell.