No Fury

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No Fury Page 37

by Tabatha Kiss


  I laugh. “Touché, love.”

  “Did they rough you up?” she asks.

  “No worse than you.”

  She snorts. “Good.”

  “But I have been deported,” I say.

  “For how long?” she asks.

  “A very, very long time.”

  “Bummer.”

  I clear my throat. “Come to see me off, have you?” I ask.

  “Something like that.” She glances around. “Or we can just leave. Do a little sight-seeing… of the nearest hotel room.”

  “I don’t think Judy will like that,” I say.

  Her brow furrows. “Who’s Judy?”

  “The delightful Air Marshall in charge of making sure I get on the plane.”

  “Oh.” She laughs. “Is this Judy watching us right now?”

  “She is,” I say.

  “Well, in that case, you pretty much have to go then, huh?”

  I nod as I memorize her face. Cute dimples, wild hair. The whole perfect Lilah package.

  “I do,” I say.

  “Then…” Lilah rises off the bench. “I guess I’ll be seeing you when I see you.”

  “I guess so.”

  She taps her toes. “It was fun while it lasted.”

  I smile. “It really was.”

  “Sad we didn’t take that trip to jazz country.”

  “Maybe someday,” I say.

  She nods. “Maybe someday…”

  Lilah stares at me for a moment, her heel bouncing on the floor impatiently. I hold her gaze, stifling my chuckle rising just beneath the surface.

  Finally, she exhales hard.

  “That’s it?” she asks.

  “What’s it?”

  She scoffs. “Ask me to go with you, you moron!”

  My lips twitch. “You’d go with me?”

  “Yes!”

  “Why?”

  Her mouth opens but only air comes out. She sputters for a second as her little eyes flick back and forth. “Because,” she finally says.

  “Because why?”

  “Because...” She shifts on her toes. “I haven’t been to London in a while.”

  I stand up and her eyes fall to her shoes. “Is that all?”

  “You said something about an aquarium before. That sounds neat.”

  I nod. “It is.”

  “And...” She stutters. “I rugngn uyy.”

  “You what?” I ask, tilting an ear.

  She exhales hard at the floor. “I love you,” she says. “I want you to ask me to go with you because I love you. Okay? Don’t have to make a big deal out of it—”

  I kiss her, not caring about who might see.

  She wraps her arms around me as I pull her closer. My heart slams against my ribs, making it hard to even breathe, but I don’t care. This woman. This damned, beautiful woman. She’ll be the death of me. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Lilah…” I say.

  “Yeah?”

  I gaze into her vicious eyes. “Would you go to London with me?” I ask.

  She bites her curling lip as she reaches behind her and pulls a boarding pass from her pocket. “Might as well. I was going there anyway.”

  I laugh and kiss the edge of her mouth.

  “Where’s your seat?” she asks.

  I step back to withdraw my boarding pass from the inner pocket of my jacket. Lilah tilts her head to read it and her nose curls upward.

  “Ugh. Economy class,” she says.

  I nod. “Yes, the US government is a bit stingy.”

  “Well...” She shrugs. “Exactly fifteen minutes after the captain turns off the seatbelt light... meet me in the bathroom.”

  “I dunno…” I tease. “I’d have to run that by Judy. She might not like it.”

  “Invite her along. I won’t mind. She a blonde? Brunette? What are we talking here?”

  I chuckle. “With that visual in my head, I might not even need you, love.”

  She slaps my chest. “Asshole.”

  I snatch her wrist and pull her in close again. “Say it again.”

  “Ass-hole.”

  “Not that.”

  She licks her red lips. “I love you,” she says, “Archer Allen.”

  I kiss her again, taking another deep breath of her to get me through this flight.

  “I love you, Lilah Hart,” I say.

  My favorite bounty.

  Signed, sealed, and delivered.

  She’s mine.

  Sixty-Seven

  Luka

  I step inside the warehouse and I inhale a deep breath. The air is thick and warm, blood and sweat still lingering from the last agent we questioned here.

  Someone new sits in the chair now, his hands and legs bound, but he hasn’t been beat on. Morning sunlight pours in through the windows, illuminating every familiar brown hair on the man’s head.

  Markov walks in behind me and closes the door. “Make it quick,” he says, peeking at me with his good eye.

  I sigh. Not this again. “There’s still plenty of time.”

  He gives a knowing grunt and steps off to the side.

  I step closer to the chair and the man looks up at me.

  “Privet,” I greet him. “Do you know who I am?”

  He looks from me to Markov and back. “Yeah,” he answers.

  “Good.” I offer a friendly smile. “I apologize for the ropes. From what I hear, you have a habit of disappearing.”

  “Not well enough, apparently.”

  “When Markov told me they found you, I wanted to be the one to talk to you myself,” I say. “I had the pleasure of working alongside your son-in-law recently. He’s a good man.”

  He stares at me, unblinking. “What do you want?” he asks.

  I pick up a chair by the wall and set it down in front of him. He watches me cautiously as I sit down to look him in the eye.

  “I want to offer you a job, Casey Fawn.”

  His brow furrows.

  “I know.” I laugh. “That’s not what I usually say to snakes who end up in that chair, but… well, times have changed.”

  “Shit must have changed a whole lot, then.”

  “More than you know,” I say.

  “Let me guess,” he says. “Either I join up with you or I’m a dead man? Is that how this works?”

  “No, Mr. Fawn.” I sit back. “Quite the contrary. If you’re not interested, I’ll let you go. You’ll be given ample time to leave Russia but I do hope you’ll stay and consider my offer.”

  “All right.” He exhales. “I’m listening.”

  “I sought you out to give you a second chance,” I say. “With Snake Eyes buried, its agents are seeking redemption. I’d like to offer you that.”

  “Redemption… in the Russian mob?” he asks, amused.

  “You must admit, it’s a step in the right direction,” I joke.

  He lets out a laugh.

  “The world is still searching for Snake Eyes agents,” I say. “Everywhere you go, everywhere you turn, they’ll be there. But not here. You can find a home here. Good work. Good pay. A new life.”

  Casey nods. “And what’s the catch?”

  “It can get a bit chilly,” I say with a smile. “You’ll want to buy a decent coat.”

  “Is that all?” he asks.

  I stand up and walk over to grab a knife off the wall. “Your reputation proceeds you. You’re a hard worker and a loyal man.” I pause in front of him as he scoffs. “I know what you did at the casino, Mr. Fawn. Quite frankly, I owe you my life. My wife owes you hers. My son will grow to know his parents and that’s because of you.”

  I bend over and slice his ropes free. He draws his arms forward and stands, gently massaging his wrists as he moves.

  “Please consider my offer.” I reach into my pocket for a business card. “I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

  Casey takes the card and stares at it, his eyes heavy with thought.

  I step toward the door, foll
owing Markov’s impatient face.

  “Oh—” I turn back. “I’m going to be out of the country for the next few weeks, so… use the number on the back. It’s Markov’s cell.”

  Markov glares at me. “Eh?”

  “No,” Casey says, shifting toward us. “It’s all right. I won’t need it. I…” He takes a deep breath. “I’ll take it. I’ll take the job.”

  “You will?”

  He nods. “Yeah.”

  “Markov, will you make arrangements for Mr. Fawn?” I say.

  “Of course,” he answers.

  I step forward and extend my hand to Casey. “Welcome,” I say.

  He takes it slowly and shakes my hand. “Thank you,” he says.

  I smile. “Thank you, Mr. Fawn.”

  I step up into the plane and the pilot looks back at me with the same judgmental brow as Markov. I brush it off, turning away and walking through the cabin toward the two seats in the back, following her dark hair down the empty aisle.

  Sofia sits in the large chair with a magazine splayed across her lap. My eyes instantly jut downward, trailing the enticing v-neck of her sundress all the way to her remarkable legs poking out the bottom and ending on a pair of shiny sandals.

  This woman is ready for the beach.

  “You’re late,” she says, flicking a page.

  I lower into the chair beside her. “I’m sorry, Sofia,” I say with a smile.

  She looks up and glares at me. “Did you get him?” she asks.

  “I did, actually.”

  Her lips curl into a soft smile.

  “Does that mean you forgive me?” I ask.

  “I might as well,” she says, feigning a sigh. “I don’t want to spend the next few weeks hating the only other person in the room.”

  I laugh. “Good.”

  I reach across her lap for her left hand and she lets me pull it toward my lips. I kiss her knuckles one-by-one, landing on the diamond ring on her finger.

  “A honeymoon,” I say. “At last.”

  Sofia blushes and turns back to her magazine.

  Sofia arches her back, coming on my face buried between her thighs. I relish in her flavor, licking and tasting until the bucking of her hips finally pushes me off.

  I kiss her inner thighs, listening to the soft mewling she makes with each breath she lets out. I lick my lips before kissing her smooth skin again, drawing a wet line of kisses from her belly to her breasts.

  “Luka,” she moans, spreading her legs for me.

  I align our bodies, feeling my blood throbbing through the tip of my cock. She hugs her knees around my body to pull us closer and I rub my shaft against her aching clit to tease us both.

  I thrust inside and she gasps, instantly clinging to me as I fuck her quickly. She reaches down and around to cup my rear, squeezing to make me take her even harder.

  And I’m happy to oblige.

  She kisses me and I part my lips for her tongue. I massage hers with mine, tasting every delicious noise she makes as I grind her against the bed.

  These last few days. Each moment spent in this bed is better than the last. Every night we lie here, staring up into the stars, unable to part for longer than a minute. Every day we lie here, and I strongly consider never leaving again.

  Sofia rolls her hips, making me go deeper inside. I groan with new pleasure, feeling the tension inside approach the breaking point. I kiss her harder, sucking on her tongue, and silently begging her to come with me. To make me come…

  She gasps and I feel her entire body tighten beneath me. The wet deluge coats my cock and I can’t hold on anymore. I come with her, staying deep inside, enjoying the sinful warmth of her core as it throbs around me.

  I slowly lower, allowing my arms to relax as I roll onto my hip to catch my breath. Stars. Am I seeing stars? It’s midday…

  “You know, Luka…” Sofia breathes hard and she curls the sheet around her. “It might be a good idea if, at some point on this honeymoon, we left the room…”

  I laugh. “Now, why would we ever do that?”

  She gestures to the wide-open double doors. “We have a private beach!” she says, pointing at it. “A beautiful, blue, sunny sky. Salty, sea air…”

  “I’d prefer snow-topped peaks and a roaring fire,” I tease with a grunt.

  Sofia rolls her eyes and tries to slide out of the bed.

  “No—” I grab her and pull her toward me. “We’ll go out later,” I say.

  “You promise?”

  I brush my lips against hers. “I promise.”

  She kisses me, sealing the pact.

  “When it gets dark,” I add.

  “Luka,” she scolds.

  “And colder.”

  She grunts. “Who did I marry?”

  “The love of your life,” I say with a laugh.

  I kiss her again, holding her close as the waves bend and break outside our open doors.

  Truthfully, it’s absolute paradise. Her soft, Italian features shine in their native sun. I think to bring her back here more and more just to see that life in her eyes as she gazes out across the ocean.

  “Perhaps we should buy a place here,” I say.

  Sofia blinks twice. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  She considers it with her big, brown eyes. “Maybe…” she says, an obvious yes. “Though, it would be a waste. We’d never have time to come back here with your work schedule.”

  I kiss the tip of her nose. “Yes, we will.”

  “No—”

  “I’m retiring,” I say.

  Her mouth sags. “You are?”

  I pull her just a little bit closer. “I’ve already told Ma and Yuri and they’ve accepted,” I say. “I want to be a father to my son. I want to be there for him every day. And you. I never want to choose between work and squeezing in ten minutes with you ever again.”

  She smiles. “Luka…”

  “I love you, Sofia. I want to share my life with you. I want to build every moment of our future together. And when it’s all over, I want to give it all to Lucian. I never want him to want for anything.”

  Sofia hums in thought. “And what will his little brother or sister get?”

  I pause as my smile fades. “What?” I ask, not believing I heard her right.

  She reaches for my hand and my heart stops as she pushes it beneath the covers and settles my palm on her belly.

  “No,” I say, utterly speechless. “But…”

  Sofia says nothing as blissful tears fill her eyes.

  I don’t believe it. I don’t even want to let myself believe, in case it’s some cruel lie. The one aching regret I have…

  Have I been given a second chance?

  “You can’t,” I manage to say. “After Lucian, you said you…”

  My voice fades again as she rests a hand on my cheek.

  “What’s the matter, lyubov’ moya?” Sofia grins. “Do you not believe in miracles?”

  Sixty-Eight

  Boxcar

  I open the door to my Boston condo, pushing it forward to swing all the way open.

  “Ta-daaa!” I say, gesturing magic with my hands.

  Caleb stands beside me in the hallway with her arms crossed. She slowly takes a few steps forward, her eyes constantly on the move as she takes in her new, not Los Angeles, surroundings.

  I bend over to pick up the medium-sized brown package off the floor and I carry it inside with me.

  “So, this is the living room,” I say, following her in. I nudge the door closed behind me and set the package down by the door. “I use that corner over there for my workstation, obviously, but I’m willing to move that if you want me to. I’m sure it was meant for some kind of dining element but an attractive, married-dude-living-alone such as myself usually just plunked on the couch or ate at my desk or…”

  I note Caleb’s squinting brow.

  I clear my throat. “Over here…” I head toward the right. “Is the kitchen. Again, not much, but that’s mo
stly just me. There’s plenty of space for various toasters or food processors or anything you want. But honestly, who needs more than a coffeemaker, am I right?” I chuckle.

  She says nothing.

  “Okay.” I spin toward the stairs. “Up there are the bedrooms. There are two. One of which is—”

  Caleb passes me and starts walking up the stairs, her face still giving me absolutely nothing. Does she hate it? She hates it. She definitely hates it.

  Guess I’m going back to Sandville.

  I follow her up, sticking close as she reaches the first bedroom to the left. She pushes open the door and I cringe at the towers of boxes stacked up from wall-to-wall.

  “Okay,” I say, raising my hands. “It’s pretty packed with electronics and other crap at the moment but I will clear that out starting today.”

  She nods slowly.

  “Lots of that is worth something,” I say. “I’ll sell it and we can put it toward stuff for… you know, for the baby.”

  She leans in, taking another quick, painfully silent, glance into the corners before continuing on down the hallway.

  “Half bathroom, second door,” I say, knocking on it as we pass.

  She keeps going toward the final door.

  “And…” I say, slipping ahead of her to open it myself. I grip the handle and flash a smile. “The master bedroom.”

  I push open the door and Caleb looks inside.

  I watch as her eyes scan over my bedroom furniture (also, admittedly, bare bones and uninteresting) but her eyes linger for a few seconds on the full-length windows displaying a great downtown view.

  “It has its own bathroom,” I say, trying to sell it. “Big shower — with two shower heads. Super sexy and fun. Oh! Also, there’s a giant jacuzzi tub that hasn’t gotten a lot of use, so it’ll be great for you once your feet start expanding and your back aches and you get giant—”

  She stops me with a glare.

  “I mean… pregnancy is beautiful,” I say, feigning enthusiasm. “You’re gonna… love it.”

  Her lips twitch.

  “But that’s just the floorplan. I haven’t even gotten to all the cool shit I installed like a speaker system that links through every room or the remote-controlled black-out curtains.”

 

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