by Ashley Logan
"For what? The circus? Or robbing a bank?" he asked, lifting my chin and turning my face to view it from a different angle.
Knocking his hand away, I jumped up to catch the pipe above our heads and began some leg lifts.
"If I am leaving at night, my face should be darker to be hidden. And my clothes too." Dropping one hand, I gestured to the black ensemble that covered me almost entirely. "Standing on my hands is good for balance and strength. You took a long time to come back. I started training without you."
Swinging past him, I completed a circuit of the cabin before dropping silently back to the floor in a crouch. I had been pretending to be a ninja until he arrived, and it was easier to ignore him if I continued to do so.
"You are mad at me?" he asked, shrugging out of his jacket and throwing it over the chair before checking his gun.
"No. Mad is a feeling. I am not having feelings anymore."
He shook his head. "You're not a robot. You are not Saskia, or some other unfeeling creature. That's not what I want for you, Natascha."
"It does not matter. It is what I am doing. I will not feel hot and cold anymore. It is too hard."
Apparently surprised by my sharp tone, he looked at me sideways. "So you'll just be cold now?"
"You have made it very clear that hot is not a thing I can feel," I countered with the same unimpressed tone.
Studying me a moment, he straightened and gave a firm nod of agreement. "Good."
Pretending that word didn't send a blade through my heart, I returned his nod. "Yes. Is good. Simple. Feelings complicate business. Business is to escape the Moskva-Liis. Feelings can happen later. Unless we die. In which case feelings do not matter then either."
I completed a few simple stretches, avoiding his eyes as he watched me closely.
"What training will we do?" I asked, just to change the focus.
"I had thought we would run through the virtual map again. Especially now that I see you are already training seriously in a physical manner."
"What is this virtual?"
"The map in your mind," he explained as he shrugged out of his shirt and hung that over his chair too. "You'll need to learn the way exactly without having seen it."
He went to the sink in the bathroom and splashed water on his face. I waited until he had dried off and was sitting in his chair before I met his eyes.
"You will not be taking me?"
Nikolai's mouth pinched and his brow furrowed slightly before he smoothed his features again.
"It's very likely that I'll have to be the distraction I spoke of, so you'll have to navigate to the lifeboat yourself. I'll get there when I can - to help you release it, but I can't show you the way and be the distraction at the same time. I've tried to think of a different way, believe me, but the risk is too great if we go together. I don't want you to go by yourself, but it's the only way you'll have a chance. I'm not the most... inconspicuous man aboard. I draw to much attention."
Pushing up from the chair, he started pacing.
"You'll have to rely on memories you don't have. You will have to imagine the way, so that when the time comes, you'll know where to go."
Considering this a moment, I raised my chin. "Is lucky I have a good imagination then."
"Yes," he agreed with a hint of a smile. "You are also strong and surprisingly resourceful." His eyes traveled my body and his face held an expression of fondness for a moment before he shook his head and it was replaced by his furrowed brow of concern. "It'll be very dangerous, Natascha. There will be... snakes. You'll have to remember where, so that you can avoid them."
"How do I avoid them?"
"Same as you do in the jungle," he said, reaching up to the pipes and pulling himself flat against the ceiling. "There are pipes along the corridors to help you. Being very still and quiet is your best defense. Let them walk by without even noticing you. You must keep yourself hidden. You understand? You must be safe."
Watching his muscles working, I swallowed hard and tried to focus my mind on snakes instead of how protectively he spoke and what his burly arms felt like around me, but I couldn't keep my body from reacting. I might have been limiting my emotions, but there was no way that my body was going to play along. It still wanted to enjoy Nikolai and it was terribly inconvenient to have no control over my rapid heartbeat, the warmth in my cheeks, or the way my nipples almost seemed to be clawing through my top to get at him.
"You'll have to wedge yourself in and be as flat as possible," he said, lowering himself slowly. "The gaps between pipes out in the hall are roughly as wide as these."
Turning back to me as he pointed at the ceiling space, his warm eyes scanned my body quickly and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
"You'll need to make sure your hair is well secured," he said, sounding a little distant. Raising his hand as if he intended to run his fingers through my loose ponytail, he hesitated and lowered it again. "If you're serious about dressing for the part," he added in a more business-like tone. "You won't want your hair falling down and giving you away."
"No. I won't want that," I agreed in a monotone as I stood completely still, fighting every biological urge within me. I longed to toss my hair, change my posture to emphasize my curves, and move in an enticing way to lure him closer. I wanted to put him under some sort of spell that would have him relieve the feelings inside me, but I didn't dare move. I refused to show him how little control I had.
Pulling out my hair-tie, I quickly braided my long hair to the end and secured it in a tight bun.
"What else?"
He walked around me. Close. Too close, really. I could feel the heat radiating off him and it wasn't helping me to keep calm. His eyes never left me; always assessing.
Leaning in, he inhaled. Holding his breath a moment, he released it with a very slight groan.
"You smell too good. Like flowers in springtime. Your scent is foreign to the Moskva-Liis and could give you away even if you are well hidden. You'll need to use only the ship's soap in the days before you run."
I nodded as he completed another tight circle whilst looking like a man under intense pressure. The tension within Nikolai gave him the appearance of being spring-loaded, and the way his eyebrows controlled their forbidden dance, made it seem as if he could snap at any moment. He was restraining himself, but just barely and it had the hairs on my neck prickling.
"Your hands," he said, taking one in his own. "You'll need to make them appear dark too." Turning my hand palm up, he ran his fingers over it lightly, pausing a moment at my wrist. "You can't compromise your grip with gloves, and you can't make your palms dark either. You'll leave black marks everywhere you go and the trail will lead straight to you," he said quietly. "You'll paint the backs of your hands, but leave your palms clean. When you need to be invisible, be sure to keep your palms to a surface, or face them inward."
I stood in place and let him manipulate my body like a puppet as he tucked my arm close to my chest and flattened my palm against it. His fingers brushed my erect nipple as they retreated and while I was sure it was not intentional, our eyes met and we both knew it had felt good.
My legs trembled, but I stood firm.
Averting my eyes, I hoped the dark streaks on my face were enough to camouflage the blush that was surely filling my cheeks.
"Your eyes," he said, stepping closer still and lifting my chin to bring them back to him.
I didn't want him to see the desire in them, nor did I want him to think I couldn't handle it as efficiently as he could. Closing my eyes until I had control, I then glared at him as if he were the last person I wanted to see.
One of his eyebrows twitched as he stared down at me.
"What about my eyes?" I demanded.
Still watching me intently, he spoke softly.
"Darken your eyelids. You'll be tempted to keep your eyes wide open, but you'll need to close them, or at least squint if someone is close. You'll need to shut them almost completely, because these
eyes," he said as his breath came more quickly on my face, "These eyes could stop traffic. This color is..." He shook his head. "A tropical ocean will not blend with your drab surroundings. There's no other vibrant aquamarine aboard the Moskva-Liis, save your eyes. So bright, and so beautiful, they will catch the attention of any man."
Swallowing hard, I felt the last of my resolve melt away under his hot and heavy gaze.
"Even yours?"
"Especially mine," he whispered as his fingertips glided down my throat. "I could be a world away and would still stop for these eyes."
"Stop what?"
He shrugged, but kept his eyes on mine as he shifted close enough for the whole of our bodies to be almost touching.
"Anything. Fighting."
"With me, or with yourself?" I asked between short, rapid breaths.
"Both," he whispered, blinking hard as if trying to cleanse me from his sight. "That's why your eyes are dangerous.
"You want me to close them now?" I asked as I saw him struggling to pull back. The hand at the base of my throat traveled along my collarbone and rested against my shoulder, as if he were preparing to push me away. His other hand suddenly clutched my hip, as if he might need extra force to repel me, but as his grip tightened, it only drew me closer.
"Would you?" he asked, sounding almost desperate as the hand at my shoulder began rising up the back of my neck, pulling me in.
"I do not know. I kind of want you to stop fighting," I replied as my chest bumped against his. I gasped as my nipples found the purchase they'd been seeking and his eyes dropped to my mouth. I'd never been so hungry in my life and I knew that he felt it. It was pulling him in.
"Kind of?" he forced through his tight jaw, as if he was using all of his restraint to await my permission.
"Stop fighting," I whispered and my next gasp was swallowed greedily by him.
Giving in to his resistance, Nikolai's tongue now sought mine as if asking if I truly wanted him. I submitted freely, clinging to him as he made me feel everything I'd been trying to force down deep.
Need exploded out of me and I required no encouragement as his hands found my ass and lifted me. My legs locked around his waist as my fingers grappled with his tank, yanking it upward as he did the same to my top. Breathing hard as our lips broke apart, we lost our tops and slammed back together.
His hands ran over my back, unclasping my bra in a flash before dragging the straps down my arms. My breasts sprung free and he pressed me to his bare chest with a moan. That moan tasted delicious, and his heat spread across my skin in the satisfying blaze I'd thought might never happen.
Breaking free of his lips, I fisted my hands in his hair as I stared into his beautiful warm eyes.
"You are making me feel things, Niko."
"I'm feeling them too," he panted back. "I've tried not to, but I can't stop feeling for you Natascha."
"I don't want you to stop."
He kissed me again before swearing in Russian. "I'm going to ruin everything."
"No. I will help you. I will help you be Pachenko. I can do this for Niko. It has been a long time since he can be himself. He is always fighting to keep himself away, but I can help him."
"He makes Pachenko weak."
"He makes Natascha strong. I am more help when strong, you see? Is same. Pachenko be safe. I be sure."
"Your English slips when you're desperate," he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine.
"Then I be slipping all English to have you, Niko."
"You couldn't have said that more perfectly," he said with a grin before taking my mouth again with his. Groaning, he pulled back with reluctance.
"Why do you have to smell so damn good?" he muttered, burying his face in my neck. "You make everything better - even breathing. I love every damn thing about you and it's so fucking dangerous. Pachenko doesn't feel that way about people."
His hands tightened their grips on my body as if I might leave. "I'm torn up. I don't want you to get to the lifeboats on your own. I want to deliver you. Protect you! If I could only get you safe," his voice began to trail off as he leaned back and his hands came to cradle my face.
"Your voice is... heart-stopping," he whispered as his thumbs brushed my cheeks. "You have something so special - a spark that could light up the world. That light will die on this ship if we don't get you to safety. I want your heart to shine Natascha. I need you to get to America and sing your beautiful heart out."
I couldn't keep from blushing.
"You are very kind, but I doubt they will let me stay long without a real job," I replied, shaking my head at him. "I am not the booked singer I thought I was, and I have made too many mistakes believing in silly dreams. Stop talking about daydreams and be here with me now."
"Of course they'll let you stay," he said, holding my eyes. "They'll be lucky to have you too. The US has visas for people who have been trafficked."
"They do?"
"Yes. And you fit the bill - an American has stolen you for sex."
Looking down at my breasts nestled against his firm chest, I frowned. Talking about sex trafficking wasn't the kind of foreplay I'd imagined us indulging in given the passion we'd started out with.
"Actually, I have only been stolen, and you are making me not want the sex I was just wanting very much. Was that your plan?" I asked, unlocking my legs from around him and pushing against his arms until he released me to the floor. Snatching up my shirt I shook it at him in my angry fist. "I am not a toy!"
Mouth gaping, he looked around as if trying to make sense of my words.
"What are you talking about? I just told you I loved you! I was literally professing the strength of my love for you and how it was too strong for me to resist anymore! I was about three seconds from ripping your pants off until that whole... America thing, and now you're yelling at me," he said, adjusting to a quieter tone as he realized his own volume. "I was just letting you know that you'd be safe if you made it there. That you could have the life you deserve. I'm not playing with you Natascha," he said before dragging his hands down his face.
His eyes returned to mine and then lowered to my bare breasts. Sighing, he turned away. "Maybe this is a good thing. I'm clearly not thinking straight and it's compromising my... everything."
Moving to where his tank was lying on the floor, he pulled it back on. Roughly.
"Feel free to put your own clothes back on now that I've ruined everything," he muttered, pulling his jacket back on and reaching for his flask.
"Yes. Go. Run to Pachenko," I growled at him before shutting myself in the bathroom to cry.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The tears didn't come. I sat on top of the toilet, hugging my knees and rocking back and forth. I didn't know how long I did that before I finally stopped, but it didn't matter.
There was always time to kill aboard the Moskva-Liis.
And I was a murderer of moments.
I sat and thought about anything but the man I was trapped with and the intolerable roller coaster of emotions I was constantly living with.
Sniffing my hair and my skin, I thought about how I smelled and lined up my supplies of shampoo, moisturizers and the likes. It was true that I smelled too good for the Moskva-Liis. I'd sought comfort in the familiarity of my own toiletries. They'd helped me to escape my reality, but I would definitely smell out of place beyond the cabin door. I remembered the damp, salt and metallic tang of the air out in those corridors. I caught a little whiff sometimes when Pachenko slipped in and out of the door.
It seemed I wouldn't need to worry about smelling good for much longer, judging by my dwindling collection of lotions and potions.
I thought of emptying them all down the drain, but couldn't bring myself to do it. Sitting in the corner under the sink, I uncapped my favorite moisturizer and held it to my nose.
Lisandra had used the same cherry-vanilla cream. We'd shared a tube before she'd left and I'd gotten her one of her own as a parting gift. It was strange
to miss sharing something so simple; something so easily overlooked or dismissed as mundane. It struck me that now I shared both this moisturizer and the Moskva-Liis with my sister. Perhaps I would share her fate also.
I quickly decided she must have been subjected to a torture far more intolerable than my own. I didn't have the determination required to end myself. Not when I still had hope that I might escape.
I looked up when the door opened and the light came on.
His eyes found me and his jaw tightened. Glancing at the vent, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"It's late," he said in a gruff tone.
When I didn't move, he came to me.
Kneeling beside me, he tried to take the moisturizer from my hands. My grip tightened and he backed off.
Watching me a while, his frown deepened. Pulling me into his arms, he rose to his feet and carried me out of the bathroom, closing the door behind us.
"You're scaring me, Natascha."
I did not reply. I had nothing to say to that.
"You were in there all day," he said as he set me on the bed and knelt before me.
"I do not know how long a day is," I replied, sounding vague even to myself. I tried to focus on something to ground me, but couldn't get beyond him looking up at me. "Pachenko does not kneel."
"Clearly, I am not Pachenko then," he said through his tight jaw. "I wouldn't care for you if I was."
When I said nothing and refused to meet his eyes, he sighed. Shifting backwards, he sat on the floor and leaned back against the desk. Reaching into his breast pocket, he pulled out his flask and drank. Wiping his mouth, he offered the flask to me.
I shook my head.
A deep V formed between his brows.
"You are not well."
I didn't answer.
"You shut yourself away. You don't eat. You barely speak, and you definitely aren't singing. Are you sad, angry, or in pain? Do you have... female things? I thought it was a few more days away..."
I looked up as he fumbled in his pockets and pulled out some of his foiled tablets, then a chocolate bar, and nudged them towards me along with his flask.