by Leslie North
Rezan grumbled under his breath as he cleaned up after the poker game. Kaz stayed in his seat, watching Nik with a wary, half-lidded expression. He crossed his heavily tattooed arms across his muscled chest and cocked his head. “And you’re sure this has nothing to do with her being beautiful?”
“Nyet.” Nik took another long gulp of vodka, enjoying the burn in his throat. So, he hadn’t been the only one who’d noticed Daphne’s charms. Of course, he wouldn’t be. She looked like a men’s centerfold come to glorious life—even in her dowdy jeans and T-shirt. A guy would have to be blind and castrated not to notice. Didn’t mean Nik liked the attention she got any better. “But if either of you lays a hand on her, you’ll lose it. Understand?”
Kaz chuckled. “Whatever you say, brother.”
A loud banging on the door to the apartment sounded, followed by a female voice yelling, “You can’t keep me locked up in here forever!”
Nik closed his eyes and dropped his head back, praying for patience. This woman just might be the death of him, if he wasn’t careful. Time to lay down the law with her and explain a few things—mainly that he was in charge and she would be doing whatever he asked, whenever he asked, until the trial was over. Never mind the fact the trial wasn’t for another five weeks. He’d keep her in line just as he did his men—with cool, calm, collected logic. He took one last draw from his Stoli bottle then set it aside and walked over to the door, halting with his hand on the knob as Rezan started bitching again.
“If she saw Tolya’s death then we need to question her ourselves, find out exactly what she knows.”
Nik rounded on his enforcer, grabbing the man by the neck and slamming him up against the wall so hard the nearby pictures went cockeyed. It felt good to release some of his pent-up energy, even if he was overreacting. “Are you questioning my conduct?”
Rezan clawed at the hand squeezing his airway and shook his head, his feet dangling uselessly off the floor. His black eyes were filled with shock and fury. “I was just thinking out loud,” he managed to rasp out.
“You aren’t paid to think,” Nik said, letting him go at last then watching as the guy slid down the wall to his butt on the floor, holding his neck and gasping for oxygen. “Now go guard the front of the store while I talk to our new guest.”
He waited until the other man was gone before walking back to the door again.
“He’s not wrong, you know,” Kaz said from behind him. “About questioning the girl.”
“I know,” Nik admitted. They did need to talk to Daphne, but first Nik wanted to talk to her himself, alone. To put her at ease, to comfort her a bit. Both were odd urges, especially for someone who prided himself on his reputation as a ruthless killer, but it seemed she’d awakened something in him, some dormant compassion that he’d thought long dead. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he’d said he knew what love was. But he also hadn’t been lying about keeping that part of him separate from his work. So far separated that he hadn’t thought the two might ever meet. He shook himself, trying to clear his head. What was he thinking? His protectiveness had nothing to do with his attraction to Daphne Allman and everything to do with loyalty to Tolya. “Later. I’ll speak with her myself first.”
“Watch yourself,” Kaz said, still lounging in his seat, long limbs sprawled out and a smirk on his face. He raised his glass of bourbon to Nik as if in toast. “To dangerous women and dangerous times.”
“Da, ya znayu,” Nik answered with a nod. Yes, I know. And he did know. Daphne was dangerous to him, with her killer curves and smart mouth. But it was a risk he would gladly take if it meant vindication for his friend’s wrongful death.
He entered the apartment and found Daphne sitting alone on a small sofa against the wall across from the open-style kitchen. They’d originally kept this place as a hideout for the Pakhan and his mistress to use when the Pakhan’s wife was in town, but it had since become a hiding spot for brotherhood members who needed to lay low from the law or their families when they were on the run.
Daphne visibly tensed when he entered and Nik cursed himself inwardly for manhandling her earlier at her place. He’d not meant to pick her up and carry her outside, but after her arguing and refusals that had seemed the most expedient means to his end. And these days, Nik was all about efficiency.
“Are you settled in?” he asked once he’d closed the door behind him. She looked so small and scared sitting there all alone that it tugged on his heart. He’d grown up in a family where there was always someone around, either his siblings or his mother or when he’d been much younger, his father Dima. Fond memories of his parents surfaced—smiling, kissing, taking care of each other, supporting each other—filling him with a twinge of melancholy. He’d always imagined finding his special mate and starting a family someday. But work and Bratva obligations had gotten in the way. Nik never mixed business with love. Never.
True love should be soft, but life in the Russian mafia was hard.
“Why did you lock the door?” she asked as he neared the sofa, her gaze lowered. “It’s not like I can get out anywhere. Not with all your goons sitting in the next room and that punk chick in the pawn shop. She looked like she could kick some serious ass.”
“She could,” Nik said, taking a seat beside her, not missing Daphne’s slight recoil. He hid his wince, barely. He didn’t want her scared of him, no matter how tough he tried to play it. He would never, ever hurt a woman, and one as beautiful and beguiling as Daphne? There were plenty of things he’d like to do to her, but none of them involved pain. Unless she was into that kind of thing. He exhaled slowly and swallowed, pushing the thought away. What the fuck was wrong with him? “Her father’s the Sovietnik to our Pakhan”
She wrinkled her nose. “That means absolutely nothing to me.”
He gave a short laugh and relaxed back into the soft leather cushions, loosening his tie and toeing off his shoes. It felt good to relax, if only for a moment. “The Pakhan is the head of our Bratva family, our leader. The Sovietnik is his counselor, a trusted advisor.”
“Oh.” She eyed him up and down and he felt her stare as a tingling wave of heat climbing his body. Her shoulders sagged slightly and she tucked her bare feet beneath her, burrowing farther into the corner opposite him. “My cell phone doesn’t work in here.”
“Nope. There’s no Internet either. Only regular cable TV downstairs.”
“Guess that explains the gaming systems and DVDs.”
“Yep.” He exhaled and laid his head back against the cushions. “I want to make your stay here as pleasant as possible, within reason. The federal prosecutor’s entire case against Hornbull rests on you. Until the day we go to court, this will be your home.”
Her head snapped up. “Wait a minute. The trial’s five weeks away.”
“Da.”
“Like hell I’m staying here all that time. I’ve got things to do, a job, my mom to take care of. I can’t just leave all that behind.” She started to get up, but he grabbed her wrist. “Let me go.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t do that.” He tugged her back onto the sofa, closer to him this time. Her arm brushed his and his body tightened. Nik frowned. It had been too long since he’d been with a woman. That had to be it. “I vowed to protect you until you can testify. This is the best way for me to do that.”
“But what about—”
“As I said, your mother is well-guarded at her nursing home.” He slid his fingers down from her wrist to slip between her own. They were long, soft, graceful fingers. Very nice hands. He imagined those fingers on his skin, his body, stroking him just right. His cock twitched. Nik’s frown became a scowl. Still, he didn’t let her go, just settled their joined hands between them on the sofa, doing his best to put the velvet feel of her out of his mind. “I also took the liberty of contacting your workplace. I told them you’d had a family emergency and would be out of town for several weeks. They should be sending family leave paperwork to your apartment by the end of the we
ek. I’ll have one of my men check your mail.”
Daphne gave a derisive snort and tried to pull her hand free. He didn’t let go. “Well then. You just think of everything, don’t you?”
“I try.”
The color in her cheeks and sparkle in her eye said she’d love nothing more than to punch him, but instead she took a deep breath and wrapped her free arm around her middle like a shield. “So, no phone, no computer, just TV.”
“And me.”
“Be still my heart.”
This time he burst out laughing, unable to stop himself. “You have a sharp tongue on you, don’t you?”
Her lips trembled slightly, not with tears but with humor. “I’ve been called a smartass on occasion.”
“I bet you have, baloven’.”
“What does that mean?”
“Baloven’?” He stroked his thumb over the side of her hand and enjoyed her answering shiver. “It means pet in Russian.”
“So, I’m your puppy dog now?”
“Puppy? No.” Nik smiled, his gaze flicking from her blue eyes to her lush pink lips. “More like a feisty little kitty, ready to strike if provoked.”
“Meow.” She hissed and made a claw out of her free hand. Was she warning him to stay away or flirting with him? His mind said the former. His traitorous body craved the latter.
A loud hammering sounded from the door to the apartment, followed by Kaz’s voice. “She ready to be questioned yet?”
Daphne’s posture went from playful to rigid and Nik sighed. So much for relaxation time. He shoved his feet back into his shoes and straightened his tie then pushed to his feet. “Be right there.”
He turned to find Daphne glaring up at him and knew his long day had just gotten a lot longer.
3
Daphne
How do we even know you saw Tolya’s murder?” Rezan demanded, slamming his fist down hard on the poker table across from Daphne. “Describe this so-called killer.”
She compressed her lips and stared the man down, refusing to let him bully her. Yes, he was a trained killer, and yes, he looked like he wanted to skin her alive for some reason, but she was a strong and confident. The fact Nik stood behind her chair, his comforting heat penetrating through the thin cotton of her T-shirt, didn’t hurt either. In fact, she found far more security being close to him than she should, under the circumstances. Maybe it was because he’d been upfront with her about the danger she was in. Maybe it was because he’d protected her from the police gunfire when that dirty cop Hornbull had shown up. Or maybe it was because he’d treated her with kindness and respect—other than the fact he’d barged through her apartment door. Either way, she’d rather be by his side at the moment than anywhere else.
“Watch yourself, Rez,” Nik growled.
Daphne squared her shoulders and pushed to her feet so she was looking down on her opponent, figuring any advantage was better than none. “Fine. You want to know what your friend’s killer looked like? Here you go. Tall, I’d say six-two, maybe six-three. Broad shoulders, in good shape. He was bald on top with a fringe of graying hair around the sides. Cold blue eyes. Tanned skin with wrinkles, as if he’d spent a lot of time outdoors. Oh, and he had a tattoo,” she tapped her left bicep, “right here. Looked like maybe a shield with some writing around it. That specific enough for you, comrade?”
Rezan’s face mottled with rage. He shoved to his feet and pulled a knife from his pocket, flipping the switchblade open. “Don’t talk back to me, you snarky little bi—”
Nik was around the table in a second, his suit jacket open and his hand on the weapon holstered at his waist. “Don’t. Do. It.”
Tension curdled in the air and no one moved a muscle until with a curse, Rez jammed the tip of the blade in to the green felt-covered table top and stalked away, cursing under his breath in Russian.
“Well, this is going splendidly, brother,” Kaz said, his tone droll. “What’s next? Shooting up the store out front for shits and giggles?”
Daphne sank back into her seat, her knees shaking from the confrontation. Now that her adrenaline was subsiding, all she could see was the edge of that quivering knife, still swaying back and forth from the force Rez had used to slam it into the table.
“Are you all right?” Nik asked, moving to stand beside her again. She nodded and he looked from her to Rez, who was pacing on the other side of the room. She didn’t know any of the men that well to judge accurately, but from his quick temper and darting eyes, the guy seemed nervous.
“What’s your problem?” Nik demanded of his enforcer. “And stop pacing. You’ll wear a hole in this already shitty carpet.”
Rez ran a hand through his thinning dark hair and sighed. “I’m just worried her testimony won’t hold up in court. We can’t afford to be wrong about this. Hornbull’s a man who never gives up. If we don’t make this stick, he’ll be relentless. He already knows we’ve got dirt on him.”
“Dirt? What kind of dirt?” Daphne asked, looking up into Nik’s guarded green gaze.
“Tolya, the man you saw murdered, called me on the way to his meeting with Hornbull the night he died. He said he was meeting the cop to pay him off on the Bratva’s behalf, to get him to look the other way during the mafia’s dealings.” Nik took a seat in the chair beside her. “This wasn’t the first time such a meeting had taken place. As a friend, I agreed to meet Tolya there and we were going to go out for drinks afterward. Catch up.” He gave a sad snort. “By the time I got to the meeting place, Tolya was on the ground, blood everywhere, dying. I tried to help him, tried to save his life, but he was too far gone. With his dying breath, he told me Hornbull was the one who’d killed him.”
“I’m sorry.” She reached for him without thinking, then snatched her hand back. Hearing him talk about the murder made her relive that horrible night all over again—the fear, the desperation, the feeling of utter helplessness as that poor man bled to death on the sidewalk not ten feet away and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She hugged her shaky arms around herself. “But I don’t understand why you can’t just testify yourself.”
“Because he didn’t see Hornbull at the scene. You did. And because he’s Bratva,” Kaz said before his brother could respond. “Any testimony he would give would do more harm than good. Besides, what jury would believe him? But you?” He straddled the chair on the other side of her and set his bottle of bourbon on the table before him. “Well, an innocent angel like you could get Hornbull convicted.”
She blinked, exhaled, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. “What if I can’t? What if they don’t believe me?” Daphne shook her head. “I just don’t understand why he would shoot that man. If he wanted the bribe money, why didn’t he just take it?”
“There’s the rub, huh.” Nik swiped at his eyes. “Who knows why a cop goes crooked.”
“I heard a rumor,” Kaz said. “An officer’s daughter OD’d last month. Doesn’t Hornbull have a daughter?”
“Wait,” Daphne said. “Hornbull has a daughter?”
The guy was a piece of crap, no two ways about it, but the fact he might have a kid who was dependent on him gave her an odd stab for the guy. If he was doing this for his daughter, then that would explain his devotion to the cause. After all, there wasn’t much she wouldn’t do to protect her mother.
“Not sure about his kids.” Nik retrieved his bottle of vodka and returned to the table.
“If he does have a daughter,” Daphne said, “maybe this is personal.”
“Hmm.” Nik straddled his seat and frowned. “That would make sense. And the other cops on the force would be more likely to turn a blind eye to his crimes if he’s seeking revenge.”
Nik and his men rehashed Tolya’s murder and Hornbull’s involvement until Nik’s vodka was nearly gone and Kaz’s bourbon bottle was bone-dry. Rezan was still acting squirrelly and Nik made a note to keep an eye on the guy. He’d been with the family forever, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be turned,
for the right price. And he wouldn’t put anything past Hornbull at this point. He glanced over to where Daphne was sitting alone on a sofa against the wall, looking about as exhausted as he felt. After a yawn and a stretch, Nik pushed to his feet and wandered over to where she sat, slumped in the corner. “Time for bed.”
At the double-entendre in his words, Daphne stiffened, looking up at him with fear in her blue eyes again. Fuck. He’d meant that perfectly innocently, even if his unwise attraction to her seemed to be stronger now more than ever. Then again, that could’ve been the copious amounts of alcohol fizzing through his bloodstream. Either way, he wasn’t going there. Not tonight anyway.
The sound of a scraping chair was followed by the pound of Rezan’s footsteps as he headed toward the exit. “Time for my shift out front,” he grumbled before leaving. “I’ll make that call you asked for too.”
“I can put myself to bed,” Daphne said, crossing her arms defiantly. “I don’t need your help.”
“Wasn’t offering it.” Nik held out his hand. “But I will be inspecting the apartment again to make sure it’s secure for the night.”
“There’s no way in or out but that door,” she said, glancing over to it. “What are you scared of? Ninja ghosts?”
He pointed up toward the ceiling. “Ventilation system. Someone could potentially get in through there then hide in the shadows to slit your throat once I’m gone. Hornbull is trained in SWAT assault techniques. I’m sure those include covert entry.”
The fire in her eyes faltered a bit. “You’re just trying to scare me.”
“Is it working?”
“No.” She stood without his assistance and dodged around him toward the apartment door. “I think you’re a pathetic drug pusher, that’s all.”