“Let me guess—some of the drug profits have been used to fund terrorism.”
“Exactly. But, Nikolai has friends in high places and my investigation was shut down.”
“Sounds familiar,” said Cody.
“Yes,” Ian agreed. “It does.
“Find out everything you can from Viktoria.”
Cody began to explain that he’d already questioned her and she knew less than he did. Her son had been taken from her. Wasn’t she the victim?
Then again, she was a Mateev—a master manipulator. He couldn’t let his attraction to Viktoria cloud his judgment.
“I’m on it,” Cody said.
He ended the call and placed the phone in the charger before returning to the living room. Leaning back on the sofa, Cody closed his eyes. His head throbbed and his shoulder ached. His hands began to tremble as he recalled the moment when he’d pulled the trigger, ending the life of Belkin’s henchman. He didn’t feel remorse, exactly. He knew it was the only reason Viktoria was alive right now. All the same, taking a life was never uncomplicated.
There was a lot to regret—broken promises, destroyed relationships—but maybe this was a chance for Cody to redeem himself.
He looked around his house and for the first time, found it lacking. It was true that Cody had completely ignored the holiday. He should at least have gotten a Christmas tree. Didn’t he still own a stand from several years ago? He thought it was in the storage room, right behind the bags of gifts he’d bought for his sister and her family last year—before the fight.
He walked to the kitchen and retrieved Sarah’s Christmas card. For years, it had been just him and his sister against the world. He remembered all those Christmases when presents were passed around in bags from the store. Clothes that didn’t fit, toys without batteries, books he had no interest in reading.
It wasn’t that the holidays needed to be about gifts; it was the disappointment in knowing that their happiness had been an afterthought.
He put the card back on the fridge, determined to make a difference for Gregory Mateev. The kid was only four, goddamn it. Someone that age shouldn’t deal with danger and kidnappings and worrying whether he’d ever see his mother again. Especially at this time of the year, he should only be excited about Santa’s visit.
Cody knew what needed to be done. Slipping into his coat, he inhaled deeply. Viktoria’s scent still clung to the fabric. He liked it and wondered how long it would stay. He found the tree stand and a saw in the storage room. Tucking a flashlight into his pocket, he left the house. Snow already filled the grooves cut by his tires. Wind lashed around the cabin, turning the flakes into projectiles that sliced Cody’s cheeks and chin. Snow collected in the collar of his coat and quickly melted into an icy rivulet that ran down his back.
He was damned uncomfortable, but he was equally undeterred.
There, at the corner of his lot, stood a lonely little pine tree. Cody knelt at the base and began to saw. The sharp tang of sap filled the air, and he wondered if there was a more noble calling for a pine than to become a Christmas tree for a child on the run.
Chapter 9
December 24
8:30 a.m.
The rich, dark aroma of coffee brewing, along with the scent of pine, pulled Viktoria from sleep. For a solitary moment, she hung in a blissful state between oblivion and wakefulness. For those few seconds, she wasn’t even sure where she was—perhaps the home of her parents. Where else had she felt so safe and loved?
Stretching, Viktoria broke the spell and woke fully. Panic, icy and sharp, stabbed at her chest. Her throat tightened as memories of being attacked the previous night crashed down with the weight of an avalanche. Feeling trapped and needing to escape, she threw off the covers and struggled to her feet. A sheen of cold sweat coated her skin. Her gaze traveled around the unfamiliar space.
Then the rest of the night came to her in a rush. Cody Samuels. He’d been her savior, and not only had he found Gregory, but he’d gotten him back. Gratitude for the man in whose home she now knew she stood left her weak and Viktoria sank back onto the bed.
Soft light filtered through the sheer curtains of the dormer windows, casting the room in a muted halo of white. Gregory lay beside her, spread out across the entire bed—save for the small section where she had slept. His chest rose and fell steadily with each deep breath.
She sent up a prayer for her son. It was in moments like this that she realized how unfairly she’d treated her own parents, leaving New York without a word to anyone—her parents included. She imagined her mother and father panicked with worry. She also imagined that if they’d been faced with similar circumstances they would have done no different.
Eventually, they’d be reunited. Could it be soon?
She stroked her son’s hair back from his forehead, needing to touch him and make sure that this moment was real. It was. She rose carefully and silently slipped from the room, heading downstairs.
Nestled into the corner of the living room sat a small Christmas tree. Viktoria stopped short, her chest suddenly tight with emotion. Cody had made a kind gesture to her son; at the same time, he was a man capable of taking a life. Since her first glimpse of Cody Samuels, she had been trying to figure him out. Now she had to admit he was more of a puzzle to her than he had been before.
She needed time to think and pivoted, ready to retreat to the bedroom. The stair underfoot creaked. She froze.
“Morning,” he said. Cody sat at the kitchen table. He held a cardboard box in one hand and pair of scissors in the other. At his elbow was a box of paperclips along with several markers and a glue stick.
And now he was crafting?
“I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just...”
“Come down.” He waved her over with a piece of cardboard. “Let me show you what I have planned.”
Viktoria smiled, her insides as gooey as caramel. And it wasn’t just the surprise Christmas tree, either. It was Cody and the way he looked. He was dressed in a navy zip sweater and jeans. The dark blue of the sweater offset the light blue of his eyes. His dark hair was slicked back and still wet from the shower. A sprinkling of stubble covered his cheeks and chin. To her, Cody looked casual, comfortable and undeniably handsome.
She ran her hand through her tangled hair. Her hands caught in the snarled ends and she worked them free. Until this very second, she hadn’t worried about her appearance. Gregory was safe and she was lucky to simply be alive. That was all that mattered. But now, along with those priorities, she also found herself wanting to look good. Wanting to feel attractive again. For Cody.
“I hope I didn’t wake you.” Cody set aside his scissors.
“The aroma of your coffee did, thankfully,” she said. Viktoria grabbed her hair and swept it over her shoulders. She hoped that most of the mess was hidden behind her back.
Cody rose from the table. “Have a seat and let me get you a cup.”
Viktoria took the seat next to the one Cody had just vacated. From a cabinet above the sink, Cody fetched a blue-and-green pottery mug.
“So, I have to ask about the tree,” she said. “You went out in the middle of the night and bought a tree because Gregory said you needed one?”
“This is Colorado,” he said. A smile teased his lips. “We don’t buy trees. We cut them down.”
“I bought a tree,” Viktoria challenged good-naturedly.
“Those are set aside for New Yorkers who don’t know any better.”
He set a mug of hot coffee in front of her. “Milk?” he offered. “Sugar?”
She gave a noncommittal shrug. “Either or neither, I’m fine.”
“After all we’ve been through together, please don’t act like a polite houseguest.”
“Are you saying you’d rather I be rude?” she teased. “I am fr
om New York City and people always think that we specialize in rudeness.”
Cody smiled and Viktoria’s insides tingled a little bit. “You can be whatever you want to be with me. I guess that’s what I’m saying.”
“Then I need both milk and sugar,” she said. “A lot of both.”
He set a carton of half-and-half before her, along with a sugar bowl that matched her coffee cup. Viktoria did a long pour of cream and then scooped in three spoons full of sugar. She stirred and sipped. “Ah,” she sighed. “Almost human.”
“Just watching you drink all that sugar makes my teeth ache, you know,” Cody said with a grin.
“And now who’s being rude?”
“Spoken like a true New Yorker.”
“I’ll take that as the highest compliment.”
Viktoria liked the easy banter they slid into, maybe a little too much. “Have you heard anything about Belkin?” she asked. She wouldn’t feel safe until that man was in jail.
“Not a thing. I talked to my boss last night and he’s making calls. Getting arrest warrants and search warrants takes time.”
“It’s been hours. How long do these things take?”
“The calls were made in the middle of the night, on Christmas Eve, in the middle of a blizzard.”
She sighed. “We don’t have any choice but to wait, do we?”
“None,” said Cody. “But since we’re stuck inside today, I figured we could make ornaments for our little tree.” He returned to the table with a glass coffeepot and refilled his own mug.
“No offense, but I wouldn’t expect a single guy like yourself to think of that.”
Cody leaned his hip into the counter and faced her. “When I was little, money was tight. Every year my sister and I would decorate our Christmas tree with stuff we made. Those are happy memories for me. Most of them, at least.” He took a swig of coffee. “By the way, what do you want for breakfast? I don’t mean to brag, but I make a fabulous bacon-and-cheese omelet.”
Viktoria was hungry for more than food. She also wanted information, and was starving to know everything about Cody Samuels. She wanted to know all the details of his childhood, his family...and why he’d seemed so unwilling to celebrate Christmas before she and Gregory crossed his doorstep. And yet, she didn’t want to pry. Instead she said, “A bacon-and-cheese omelet sounds perfect.”
Cupping her hands around her mug, Viktoria rose from the table to peer out the kitchen window. The snow that had begun last night still fell, thick and heavy. When they had arrived at the cabin the drift had only been halfway up the bannister. Now the entire railing was covered and the Range Rover was little more than a snowy hill by the house. The huge mountain peaks that she knew to be close were lost in the complete whiteness of the storm.
“Kind of makes you feel like we’re inside a snow globe,” Viktoria said.
Cody set a bowl on the counter alongside a carton of eggs. “I’ve never thought about it that way, but it does.”
“What can I help you with?” Viktoria asked. “Bacon?”
“You can, although I was going to let you shower while I cook.”
His remark brought back to mind the feeling of last night. The terror and violence still clung to her skin. “That would be wonderful,” she said.
Cody cracked an egg into a mixing bowl. “There are towels under the sink and a washcloth, too. I have a set of clean sweats in the dryer, if you want to grab those.” He pointed the spatula toward a laundry room. “Shampoo and soap are in the shower. Feel free to open a new toothbrush in the drawer and if you don’t think it’s too weird, you can use my comb. Now go,” he ordered.
Viktoria retrieved a set of sweats—University of Colorado Boxing Team was written across the chest and down the leg—and headed into the bathroom. Like the rest of the house, the space was small, but well-appointed. The same marble countertop from the kitchen had been used as the bathroom vanity. A copper bowl sink sat underneath a mirror. A water closet was hidden behind another door and a glass-paneled shower stood opposite the sink.
Viktoria took out a set of plush gray towels and undressed. Stepping into the shower, she turned the handle toward hot. As the water cascaded over her body, Viktoria let all the memories of the previous night slip away. Well, except for a few she wanted to keep—like Cody’s tempting kiss.
* * *
Cody set to work on a mixture of eggs and milk, with a touch of salt and pepper. Once his griddle was preheated he placed the bacon in a row. Immediately it began to sizzle and fill the kitchen with its salty, sweet aroma.
Cody had taught himself how to cook while in college. As a kid on scholarship, he didn’t have tons of extra cash to eat out and the food in the dining halls was always too unhealthy to bother with. In truth, he didn’t mind cooking. It gave his mind time to wander. And today was no exception. His thoughts weren’t too far from kitchen, though—they’d traveled to the shower with Viktoria.
Cody exhaled and imagined her naked—hot and wet—with foam sliding down her breasts and her thighs. Forcing himself to turn his mind back to the meal, he flipped the bacon—almost done—and retrieved a block of sharp cheddar from the fridge.
As he set about shredding the cheese, the image of kissing Viktoria came to him. But it was more than her raw sexuality that interested Cody. It was the total package of Viktoria Mateev. She was smart, funny and oh-so brave.
“Focus, damn it,” he mumbled. Beyond her looks, intelligence and wit, Viktoria Mateev was still Nikolai Mateev’s daughter-in-law. And the best chance Cody had to clear his name.
* * *
Viktoria rinsed her hair one last time and turned off the shower. She felt revived and renewed. It was as if the hot water and soap had somehow washed away more than just dirt, but also some of what she had endured. Now she had to face the day—hopefully one that found Peter Belkin in jail and her no longer facing criminal charges.
After drying quickly, she found the new toothbrush he had told her about and brushed her teeth. She wrapped her hair up in a messy bun at the nape of her neck and then dressed in Cody’s college sweats. It seemed crazy that only last night Cody had saved her life. It felt like yesterday belonged in another lifetime.
Dressed and refreshed, Viktoria found that the kitchen table had been cleared of cardboard. There was a mug of steaming coffee, a glass of orange juice and the most delectable omelet she’d ever seen waiting for her on a plate. Cody stood at the stove sliding a second omelet onto another plate for himself.
“Sit,” he said without turning around. “You don’t want your food to get cold.”
Viktoria took a bite of the omelet. It was perfect. “You’re a very good cook,” she said, washing down a bite with a swallow of tangy-sweet juice.
“Actually, this is my specialty.” Cody pointed at his plate with his fork. “I like cooking but my skills are pretty basic.”
Before rushing into Viktoria’s cabin, Cody had had a life of his own. The chance to learn more about Cody hung like a loose thread and Viktoria was tempted to work it free. At the same time, she didn’t have any right to pry into Cody Samuels’s private life.
“You must really love skiing to have a house so near the slopes.”
“Growing up without a lot of money is hard anywhere, I suppose. But in Colorado poor kids don’t get to ski the way the rich ones do. Not having a season’s pass at a resort hanging off your winter coat makes a kid feel like he’s not worthy.” He ate a bite of his omelet. “Once I’d saved enough money for this place, I bought it. Kind of sounds silly when I say it out loud but it’s a symbol of accomplishment to me.”
“I admire that you made your dream come true. Not many people can say that.”
“A dream? Sure. But I do love to ski. There’s nothing like being on the slopes. The powder. The speed. Being in control, but always on the
edge.”
“Sounds exhilarating. There’s skiing in New York State and all over the Northeast, but I never took up the sport. It’s not a huge deal like it is in Colorado.” Viktoria glanced at the window. The falling snow now clung to the pane, obscuring the view even more.
Cody wiped his lips. “Ski and work, it seems like that’s my life.”
“We all need to be productive. Then we need downtime and a hobby,” she said, although Viktoria had the distinct feeling that Cody was sharing more than his schedule. She waited to see if he would add more.
He did. “I’ve worked hard my whole life and always played by the rules. Even though the DEA let me go, I thought that the job with Rocky Mountain Justice was a reward—along with this house and my expensive skis, you know?”
“They are. Right?”
Cody sipped his coffee slowly. “Most of the time they are, but sometimes they have less value than the paper ornaments I used to make as a kid.”
She reached for his arm. Cody was lonely. His pain registered as an ache and an emptiness in her chest. She wasn’t sure what to do, but somehow felt that sharing the silence would be more profound than anything she might say.
Without looking up, Cody said, “I’m not a workaholic, or some guy who doesn’t have any friends.” He lifted his gaze. “Although I do work a lot. But.” He paused. “Well, I just wanted to let you know that I’m not some odd reclusive ski bum.”
Viktoria squeezed his arm. “I never would have thought that of you. It sounds like you’re close to your sister. Does she live nearby?”
He shrugged. “About an hour and a half away.”
“What about your parents?” Viktoria asked, even more curious about Cody’s family.
He took another sip of his coffee. “My parents liked to drink. It killed my father years ago, drunk-driving accident. Although it’s not exactly accidental if you get behind the wheel of a car after consuming a twelve-pack of beer. My mother died not long after. My sister thinks it was from a broken heart.”
“I’m sorry,” said Viktoria, thinking about her own parents again and hoping that she could contact them soon. “The holidays can be hard.”
Her Rocky Mountain Hero Page 10