King of Clubs (Aces & Eights Book 2)

by Sandra Owens

  She let out a shuddering breath. That was where Peter had gone, to pick up his brother. What if she hadn’t gotten away? It didn’t bear thinking of.

  “I pretended to be you,” she said after he’d parked in his space, her voice barely above a whisper.

  He shifted to face her. “I don’t understand.”

  “You told me to be smart. To be strong. But I was afraid, so I thought, what would Court do? What would he say?”

  “Oh, baby.” He leaned across the console, wrapped his arms around her, and held her. “I’m sorry. I should have waited for the pizza to be delivered.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t.”

  He pulled away, locking his eyes on hers. “I should probably warn you that I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  “I’m good with that.” At least until Stephan wasn’t a threat anymore. She sure as hell wasn’t opening any more doors unless she absolutely knew who was on the other side.

  “Don’t move,” Court said before exiting the car.

  She watched him jog around the hood, and after he opened her door, he scooped her up. “I can walk.”

  “I know, but I like you right where you are.”

  “If you insist.” She buried her face against his neck, breathing him in, his familiar scent calming her.

  Strong arms held her securely as they rode the elevator up. She wasn’t a woman who wanted or needed a man’s constant attention. Nor did she want a man who thought he should take care of her every need, hovering over her as if she couldn’t do anything for herself. Not on most days. But tonight, she needed it, and somehow Court had known that.

  She hadn’t been paying attention to their progress until he stopped and knocked on a door. It flew open, and Madison grabbed them in a group hug.

  “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Her frantic eyes shifted to Court. “Is that why you’re carrying her? Cause she’s hurt?”

  Lauren laughed, feeling like the filling in a sandwich with Court and Madison plastered against her. “I’m not hurt.”

  “Are you sure?” Madison said, apparently not believing her.

  “Positive. I think he just needs to take care of me for a little while until he assures himself I’m safe.”

  Court grunted an agreement, then winked at her. “I might set you down in about a year.”

  “Alex called,” Madison said. “I’m supposed to go up to Nate’s with you two and wait for him. He’s okay, right?”

  Court nodded. “He’s fine. He just doesn’t want you to be alone right now.”

  They were going to Nate’s place? She tamped down her disappointment that she and Court weren’t going to be alone tonight. All she wanted was to take a shower, and then curl up in bed with him, have him hold her, and tell her again that he loved her.

  “Can I at least shower? I feel like I have bugs crawling all over me.” She held out her arm, showing them the angry red bites. “The ants didn’t like me invading their space.”

  “I have some stuff that will help,” Madison said. “Be right back.”

  While they waited, Court stared down at her with such intensity that she had to force herself not to squirm. “Aren’t your arms getting tired of carrying me around? You really can put me down. I promise I’m capable of walking.”

  “No.”

  “No?” A laugh escaped, which was a miracle considering that less than an hour ago, she was crouched under a thorny rosebush, getting eaten by ants, and praying Court would find her before the barking dog managed to dig under the fence and out her.

  “That’s what I said.” When Madison reappeared, he strode to the elevator, Madison jogging along behind them.

  Lauren peeked at her friend over Court’s shoulder and rolled her eyes. “He apparently thinks I’ve lost the use of my legs.”

  “He thinks you scared a year off his life when you disappeared,” Court said, sounding grumpy. “He needs you in his arms.”

  Although she felt silly being carried around, she had to admit this caveman side of him was kind of sexy. Too bad Madison was with them. It would be interesting to find out what it was like to have a caveman in her bed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Wow, this isn’t what I’d expected Nate’s place to look like,” Lauren said, surveying his living room.

  Court snorted. “Let me guess. You imagined something dark and gloomy to match his personality.” It always amused him the first time someone saw Nate’s condo. No one ever expected the beach décor, the pale mint-green walls, dark green leather couch, and various creamy yellow accessories.

  “Yeah, I guess that’s what I pictured,” Lauren said.

  Madison picked up a pale pink conch shell from the coffee table. “Surprised me, too, the first time I was here. I think Nate has had so much darkness in his life . . . still does, that he needed a calm place to come home to.”

  “It’s calm all right.” She took the large seashell from Madison. “This is beautiful.”

  Madison had nailed it. Nate had always found peace at the beach, and this was his big brother’s refuge. It was why they’d bought condos on the ocean. Because it was where Nate needed to be. He still carried internal scars from their old man, some Court could only suspect based on the visible scars on his body.

  Both he and Alex knew that Nate had taken the brunt of the son of a bitch’s abuse to protect them. Then there was the job. They all three loved their work, but again, Nate was their self-appointed guardian, always worrying about them. He was technically their boss, a shield between them and Rothmire. If they screwed up, he took the blame, so they both did their best not to. After tonight’s doings, though, Rothmire wasn’t going to be very happy.

  “Either of you want something to drink?” He glanced at Lauren as he asked the question. She’d refused to let him carry her up here, and he was still miffed about that. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he needed to hold her. Her hair was still wet from her shower, and dressed in white shorts and a pale blue T-shirt, she looked downright edible. She also looked like she was about to fall on her face.

  “Sit,” he said.

  “Have you noticed how bossy he is tonight?” Lauren said, taking a seat on the sofa.

  Madison giggled. “I like it when Alex gets bossy, especially in bed.”

  “TMI,” Court muttered, heading for the kitchen. He did not need to know about his brother’s bedroom activities.

  “Water for me,” Lauren said. “Anything stronger, I’ll fall asleep.”

  Madison joined Lauren on the couch. “I’ll take a glass of wine.”

  He was carrying their drinks, along with a beer he held by the neck with two fingers when the door opened. Nate walked in, followed by Alex, followed by Rothmire. Speak of the devil and he appears. This was going to be interesting. Maybe with the girls here, he wouldn’t get yelled at too badly.

  “Where’s Popov?” Court asked, handing Lauren and Madison their drinks.

  Nate reached over and snatched the beer. “Stowed away for the night until we decide what to do with him.”

  “That was mine, dude.”

  “My house, my beer.” Nate consumed half of it.

  Nate wasn’t a big drinker, so if he was guzzling it, it probably meant Rothmire had already chewed his ass for their going rogue. Whatever. He’d do it all over again where Lauren was concerned.

  When Alex headed for the kitchen, Court followed him. “Rothmire pissed?” he asked quietly.

  “Understatement, bro.”

  Court popped his head around the corner. “Rothmire, you want something?”

  “You boys are going to be the death of me yet. Or drive me to drink. A scotch neat.”

  Ouch. Boss man definitely wasn’t happy.

  “Coming up.” Although Nate never drank anything but beer, he kept wine for Madison and a bottle of Chivas Regal on hand for the rare times their boss was here.

  “Should we slip a Valium into his drink?” Alex whispered.

  “Two a
t least.” If they actually had a bottle of Valium, he would be sorely tempted. The next few minutes weren’t going to be pretty. Court grabbed another beer for himself, and returning to the living room, he handed Rothmire his scotch.

  Their bureau chief was usually a calm man, except when he wasn’t, like now. As he paced Nate’s living room, drink in hand, Court studied the man who—after his brothers—he respected above all others. Tall, lean, skin the color of rich dark chocolate, strong-jawed, and opinionated as hell, he was also fair and protective of all his agents. No one in his field office doubted he had their back . . . even when they screwed up. That didn’t mean he tolerated any shit from them. But he’d never once thrown one of his people under the bus with the higher-ups. Court was counting on that to stay true.

  Rothmire swiped a hand through his close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair. “Madison, it’s good to see you again.”

  “It’s good to see you, too, Mr. Rothmire.” She chuckled. “Someday we’ll have to meet when it’s not in the middle of a crisis.”

  “Doubtful. These boys swim in trouble.”

  Lauren scooted to the edge of the sofa. “Please don’t blame them, Mr. Rothmire. I brought the trouble to their door.”

  “I’m responsible,” Nate said, unsurprisingly. “I didn’t call in.”

  Damn if anyone else was going to take the blame. “I would have gone for her with or without you, bro.”

  “He wouldn’t have gone off without me,” Alex said.

  “Jesus,” Rothmire said, staring up at the ceiling, as if looking for divine intervention. “Save me from these sacrificial lambs.” His gaze zeroed in on Lauren. “Ms. Montgomery, I presume?”

  She nodded. Thinking Rothmire was going to give her the third degree, Court stepped toward her, his protective instinct taking over. Nate put a hand on his arm, shaking his head. Nate was right. Whatever was about to happen between Lauren and Rothmire needed to play out. She’d been through hell tonight, but she was strong and perfectly capable of standing up for herself. Even more importantly, Rothmire would respect her for it.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Montgomery.”

  “Lauren.”

  “Lauren then.” He held out his hand, and when she put hers in his, he held it there. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting into involving yourself with one of the Gentry brothers? If not, I have a headful of stories that might give you second thoughts.”

  Her eyes darted to him, and Court winked, his heart giving a thump in his chest at her soft smile.

  Rothmire sighed. “I see you are a lost cause, Lauren, my dear, so the stories will stay in my head where they belong.”

  “Mr. Rothmire, do your best, but there’s nothing you can say to convince me I shouldn’t consider it an honor to have the Gentry brothers as friends.”

  “I like you, Miss Lauren.” He let go of her hand. “Let’s get down to business, people.” He set down his empty glass, then seated himself in a chair. “Nate and Alex updated me earlier on tonight’s events, and I’ve read Stephan Kozlov’s original arrest report,”—he looked at Lauren—“seen the photos of you taken at the hospital. I want to start from the beginning, from the moment you met your ex-husband.”

  Court moved to the sofa, sitting between Lauren and Madison, and took Lauren’s hand, cradling it in his. Alex perched on the arm, next to his wife, and Nate sat in the chair across from Rothmire. As Court listened to a story he’d already heard, the ever-simmering rage at Kozlov’s treatment of Lauren returned full force. The only thing anchoring him to his seat was her touch.

  Both his brothers’ lips were pressed together in thin lines as Lauren spoke of a husband who’d treated a woman the way no man ever should. It was Rothmire’s calm demeanor and soft voice as he asked questions, though, that Court suspected was the only reason Lauren was able to get through the retelling.

  When she finished, Rothmire sat back in his chair. “He will pay, Lauren. You have my word on that. As for his plan to take you to Russia with him, that will happen over my dead body.”

  “Mine, too,” Nate said.

  Alex nodded. “And mine.”

  “I’ll kill him first before I’ll let him touch you,” Court said, squeezing her hand.

  “Thank you. All of you,” Lauren whispered. She didn’t know what else to say to express what was in her heart. Stupid tears pooled in her eyes. Each time she’d had to tell her story, it had seemed like she was living it again. She understood why she had to do it, but she hoped it was the last time. And she refused to agree to Court killing anyone on her behalf.

  She lifted her face to Court’s. “Let’s just settle for either sending him right back to prison or deporting him back to Russia without a chance of ever returning.”

  “Although I hesitate to interrupt this intimate moment between the two of you, Court won’t be killing anyone,” Mr. Rothmire said.

  Lauren swung her gaze to his. “I don’t want him having that on his conscience. Not because of me.” She ignored the sound Court made. He could growl all he wanted, but she knew him. Killing anyone, even Stephan, would come with regrets. He would forever wonder if there’d been some other way.

  Mr. Rothmire smiled, as if he understood. Much like Nate, the man intimidated her when he turned those piercing black eyes on her. But as with Nate, she liked Rothmire. He didn’t pull any punches. She found him fascinating, and couldn’t wait to get Madison alone so she could find out more about him. She figured she probably shouldn’t tell Court that. Madison would get it, though. There were men who got your attention that you weren’t necessarily attracted to.

  “Let’s talk about his brother and what we know about him. Can we connect Peter Kozlov’s activities to Stephan? What do you have on that so far, Court?” Mr. Rothmire asked.

  Lauren leaned her back against the sofa, relieved the spotlight was off her. Court hadn’t let go of her hand, for which she was thankful. She needed to touch him. As long as they were connected, she felt like she could keep breathing. What she hadn’t said, because they wouldn’t have understood, was she had memories of two different Stephans. The beautiful, kind man a young girl had fallen in love with, and then there was monster Stephan, his true self.

  “Peter’s connection with the Bratva is through Vadim Popov. I have some emails between him and Peter you need to read.”

  “I’m not going to ask how you got them since I haven’t seen a request for a warrant cross my desk,” Mr. Rothmire said. “I’m also not going to read them for the same reason. Give me reasons to pull a warrant the old-fashioned way. I put out a BOLO on Stephan and Peter Kozlov.”

  “That means Be on the lookout,” Court told her before she could ask.

  “It’s getting late, and Lauren looks like she’s about to fall asleep,” Mr. Rothmire said, standing. “We’ll continue this tomorrow. You boys try to stay out of trouble for the rest of the night.”

  Truthfully, she was past tired. It was considerate of him to notice. She gave him a grateful smile. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Rothmire.”

  “The pleasure was all mine. If everything goes as planned, your troubles will be over soon. Very soon.”

  After he left, she said, “There’s a plan?”

  “We’re working on one,” Court said. “For now, you need to get some rest. Tomorrow, when your chin isn’t nodding on your chest, we’ll go over everything. You’re staying with Alex and Madison tonight.”

  “Why?” She needed to be with him, even if all he did was hold her through the night. That was all she’d thought of since getting away from Peter and Vadim. Just her and Court, safe in his bed. She didn’t think she could sleep without his arms wrapped around her.

  “Nate and I have some things to do, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I don’t want you alone at my place.”

  “Come up when you’re ready to go,” Nate said, standing. He smiled at her. “You’ll be safe here with Alex.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked Court. “Didn’
t your boss tell you to stay out of trouble tonight?”

  Alex snorted. “Trust me, Rothmire knows that went in one ear and out the other.”

  Court took her hand, pulling her up. “We’ll be out on the balcony for a few minutes,” he said.

  “Don’t be long,” Nate said as he walked out.

  “What’s going on?” Lauren asked after Court closed the balcony door behind them.

  Instead of answering, he cradled her cheeks with his hands, lowered his face, and brushed a feathery kiss across her lips. He lifted his head, stared at her a moment, then said, “Have I told you how much I love kissing you?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Then let me show you.”

  His kiss this time was possessive, demanding, and a little wild, as if he were afraid she’d disappear from his arms like a puff of smoke. Their tongues touched, explored, dueled for supremacy. She put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her palm. He slid his hands down, resting them low on her back, pulling her tight against him.

  His masculine scent—citrusy with a hint of leather—filled her lungs, heat from his hands warmed her skin, and his arousal pressed against her belly. She whimpered, and he answered with a growl deep in this throat.

  “You make me crazy, Gorgeous Girl,” he said, pulling away, chuckling when she tried to follow, wanting his mouth back on hers. “I don’t want to go, believe me, but I have to.”

  Reality returned, and along with it, her questions. She took some deep breaths, trying to calm her heart. At least he was breathing as hard as she was. “Where are you going?” she asked when she could manage to get words out.

  “Just a little reconnoitering.” He put his finger over her lips when she opened her mouth. “Nothing dangerous, I swear. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

  She wanted to protest, wanted to grab his hand and refuse to let go. He could say ‘nothing dangerous’ all he wanted, but she didn’t believe a word of it. Was this what life would be like with him? Every time he walked out the door, her stomach turning sick and her mind imagining all the things that could happen to him. How did Madison stand it?