“I… I’ll come for you, Kat… rina,” he mumbled, an echo of what he told her ten years earlier, his eyes drifting closed.
“I know,” she whispered, running her fingers over his sculpted lips. She bent over and pressed a kiss against them. “But this time I’ll make sure you won’t find me.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Mayday, mayday!” Katie called into the radio hysterically.
She was a pretty good actress at the best of times. Couple that with the nagging fear that Roman might wake up at any moment, her desperate need to depart the yacht immediately and her disgust over the fact that his phone had indeed been in his back pocket when they'd gone into the hot tub and was currently waterlogged, and the rising hysteria within Katie wasn’t actually much of an act. After pulling the phone out and trying to turn it on, then double checking to make sure his breathing was regular, she’d dashed to the controls and made sure they were still on course for the mainland.
“This is the coastguard,” came a quick, clipped reply over the radio. “What is your emergency?”
Katie sighed in relief and sent a quick glance toward Roman’s prone body, making sure it was still, in fact, prone. “I don’t even know what happened! My boyfriend just passed out!” she whined in the most helpless, kept woman voice she could manage. “One minute he was down on one knee next to the hot tub and the next minute he just fell over, knocking us both in.”
“Okay ma’am,” said the woman in a patronizingly soothing voice, “Can you tell me if he’s breathing?”
“Uh huh, he sure is and he has a pulse. I learned to check from Grey’s Anatomy,” Katie said cheerfully. “But the big problem is I don't know how to drive his boat. What if we crash?”
Katie could darn near feel the eye roll over the radio. Normally, she’d enjoy this dumb blond role play, but she was feeling seriously jittery and just wanted to plant her feet on solid ground again so she could start putting distance between herself and the towering rage that would be Roman Valdez when he woke up. The coastguard was no doubt picturing Roman as some old millionaire and her as his playgirl. They were in for a bit of a surprise when they saw the giant Latino ex-gang, biker-looking guy.
Please don't wake up, please don't wake up, she begged over and over in her mind, eyes glued to his unmoving body.
“Alright, ma’am, we’ve located your position and have a craft headed your way for an intercept. Please stand by for further instructions. Let me know if there’s any change in your boyfriend’s condition.”
“Yup, will do!”
They must have been a lot closer to the mainland than Katie realized. It only took fifteen minutes before she caught sight of a coastguard boat tearing toward them. Tugging down her top to sit low on her cleavage she cued up the waterworks and ran leeward waving her arms. Lucky for her, two men came to the rescue. Both appeared to be heterosexual and completely susceptible to her wiles. She threw herself sobbing into the first pair of arms that boarded the yacht.
As soon as his hands closed on her hips and his eyes landed on her cleavage she decided she was extremely glad, for both of their lives, that Roman was out cold. She managed to blubber her predicament out to her saviours and point toward Roman’s sprawled body, laid out like a sacrifice in the sun. She peeked at their faces and hid a smirk behind her hand when they did a serious double take. His size alone would make a person pause, but the aura of sheer menace that surrounded the man was palpable, even when he was unconscious.
“Please, help me!” she begged, turning tear-filled blue eyes up to the man she was pathetically clutching.
“Of course, ma’am,” he assured her, getting lost in her eyes for a moment before pulling back and kneeling next to Roman with his medical kit.
After checking his vital signs they loaded him up and moved him to their boat. The more sympathetic of the two medics, the man that Katie had targeted, helped her over with a hand on her waist. She clutched him gratefully and sniffed delicately, wiping a tear away from the apple of her cheek. His eyes followed every move she made. She smiled wanly and pressed a hand against her heart.
“I can’t thank you enough for saving me, I don’t know what would have happened,” she said breathlessly, dropping her gaze to the deck.
She wanted desperately to break away from the guy and rush to Roman’s side, but she was trying to distract them from looking too closely at him. He was clearly not your average guy. Glancing up, she realized her ploy had only partially worked. The other guy was on the radio. The sharp glances he was taking toward the medical cot on which they had laid Roman did not bode well. She heaved a sigh of annoyance. This definitely fell under the category of ‘pretty bad plan’ where a dozen things were definitely going wrong.
Sure enough, the ambulance that met them at the docks was escorted by a police car… which was escorted by an unmarked car carrying two detectives. She raised an eyebrow. Well damn. Did they already know who he was? She glared down at Roman from beneath her lashes as he was being loaded into the ambulance. She kind of wanted to slap him silly again. Only this time it was for getting her ass into this mess. She was about to climb into the ambulance with him and the paramedic when a hand circled her arm from behind, stopping her.
“Excuse me, miss.”
She plastered on her favourite vapid trophy girlfriend look and turned around to look at the guy touching her. Yup. One of the detectives. He took one look at her and wrote her off as too dumb to breath. She kind of wanted to punch him in the throat for making assumptions, but that was the exact thing she was hoping he would assume, so she let it go. She was pretty sure he must have heard the mayday call, given the look on his face.
“Yes, officer?” she asked in a high-pitched voice that made even her want to gag.
“I’ll need you to come with me.”
“Are you going to the hospital?” she asked as sweetly as she could manage without gritting her teeth.
“Of course, miss,” he assured her.
“Well sure, then I’ll go with you!” she said, flashing him a big smile.
He blinked at her for a moment and then led her toward the vehicle. As she suspected, the entire ride to the hospital was the two detectives grilling her on her connection to Roman Valdez. Turned out they did indeed know exactly who he was. She hadn’t counted on them figuring it out that quickly when she called the coastguard. Geez, they were organized. Good thing Roman’s tattoos were pretty much a giant map of fingerprints. Freaking mafia guys.
“Umm, I dunno. I think we were just going out for a day trip,” she said innocently, shrugging her shoulders when they asked if Roman had been intending to take the yacht into Mexican waters.
When they asked about her connection to Roman she told them the truth. “He knew my brother. We’ve been friends ever since!”
The trip to the hospital felt like the longest twenty-five minutes of her life. She had to keep track of every word she said. Luckily, she really didn’t know much about Roman’s business and the cops weren't asking her questions about being kidnapped. Apparently, they had no doubts that she had been with him of her own volition. Jerks. She would be happy to set them straight about their line of questioning except she didn’t want Roman to get in more trouble than he apparently was already in and she didn’t have time to hang around and fill out a victim statement.
Finally, they made it to the hospital and she all but leapt out of the vehicle before it even stopped. The detectives escorted her inside and quickly ascertained Roman’s whereabouts. Once she was able to reassure herself that he was okay and ‘explain’ what happened to a doctor, she excused herself to use a phone. One of the nurses at the nursing station closest to Roman’s room was kind enough to allow her the use of one of theirs. She smiled as she reached for it, thanking him.
Her first call was to her best cyber friend, XSource. She was beyond pleased to find her friend healthy and safe from Katie’s big, bad boss. Once she assured herself of a quick and invisible way out of the hospital when the ti
me came, she made her second call. She quickly dialled her best friend, full stop.
“Katie!” Riley answered on the first ring. “I’ve been calling you for days. Where the fuck have you been? And don’t you dare tell me Paris, because you promised me a gift and you never delivered, bitch. I want my mini monogrammed Eiffel Tower and I want to know what the fuck happened to my best friend right this instant!” she demanded, her angry voice betraying her concern. She always got meaner when she was upset. God, how Katie missed her.
“I’m fine Riles, but I need to talk to your scary-ass husband. Can I get his phone number?” Katie spoke as quietly as she could and made sure her back was to the nursing desk so no one could overhear her. Chewing nervously on her thumbnail, she watched the men in Roman’s room through a window, positive they were going to figure out what she was doing at any moment and come running out to arrest her. Not that she’d done anything illegal. Well… not anything they knew about.
“You want to talk to the man you spent every moment of my wedding avoiding like he had the plague?” Riley said incredulously. “I mean, I don’t think you even said his name once during your entire maid of honour speech, which is just impressive.”
Katie snorted and tried to deny it, but thinking back she was pretty sure Riley was right. “Whatevs, dude gives me the creeps. I’m not joking though, Riley. If you don't let me call him then his guard dog is going to get arrested. After he gets out of the hospital… because I sort of drugged him and then called an ambulance…. but then the police showed up too,” she blurted out the entire story all at once. Mrs. Pullman always told her children it felt better to get the truth out. Like tearing a band-aid off.
Yup. She felt better.
“Well, fuck,” said Riley after a moment of silence. “You don't need to call him, he’s right here. I’m handing the phone over to him now.”
Katie could hear murmuring and assumed that Riley was giving him the rundown on her little ‘oops’ of a situation.
“Ms. Pullman,” Soloman Hart’s deep voice said coldly into the phone.
A shiver of fear slithered down Katie’s spine. While Roman was just as tough and scary as his bad guy mafia boss, she knew Roman would never harm a hair on her head. She glanced guiltily toward his hospital room. Well, he wouldn’t have before she drugged him, nearly drowned him in a hot tub and then got him arrested. Not so much with Soloman Hart. She was pretty sure this guy would kill her for coughing in his direction and not feel even a twinge of guilt. The only thing stopping him was the woman currently standing next to him. Which is why she really hated the idea of asking for his help.
“Ummm… so Riley told you… a-about our little predicament at the hospital?” she asked in a small voice and then rolled her eyes at herself. Like saying it quieter was going to make him want to kill her less.
“She did,” he drawled, the chill in his voice dropping a few degrees.
A part of her wanted to remind him that she was the one that got drugged and kidnapped in the first place. But knowing how he’d forcefully wooed her best friend and his misogynistic views on women, she thought it best just to eat crow and let him get Roman out of the situation. Preferably without Katie dying in the process. Her eyes widened as she watched one of the detectives approach the bed with a pair of handcuffs. Damn it! Were they allowed to cuff an unconscious person? Didn’t they have to read him his rights or something?
“Oh crap… they’re handcuffing him,” she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. This was so not going how she’d hoped. “Please just get here quickly, Soloman, and take care of this mess.”
“You keep your ass in that fucking hospital, woman,” Soloman snarled coldly sensing her intention to take off.
She shivered, unused to being on the barking end of Soloman Hart’s anger. She was actually not used to having anything to do with the man except that he was married to her best friend. Truth be told, she usually avoided the terrifying beast unless she had no other choice. She’d come to town for their wedding and stood next to Riley during the lovely ceremony, studiously avoiding Roman’s relentless gaze throughout. Soloman usually had nothing to do with her too, thank goodness! He really only had eyes for his gorgeous wife. Who could blame him, Riley was a stunning handful of crazy. A person had to have both hands and eyes on her if they wanted to keep that one… and their car.
“You don't understand,” Katie said sadly. The phone she’d borrowed from the hospital shook in her hand. “I would stay with him in a heartbeat if I could. I love Roman more than anything in this world, but staying will put him in danger and that’s something I will never do. Well, not on purpose.”
There was a moment of silence while Soloman digested her words. He was a powerful and intelligent man. He wouldn’t underestimate her or the things she said to him. She wouldn’t underestimate him either. His first loyalty would always be to Roman. And Roman wanted Katie under his power regardless of the consequences.
“Make me understand then, Ms. Pullman,” he said in a tone meant to be more reasonable and less ‘I’m about to murder you and everyone you know.’
She glanced up and saw one of the detectives looking down at his phone. A prick of apprehension slithered down her spine. She had no reason to believe that Soloman Hart might know these men or have one of them in his pocket, but she trusted her own instincts and they were telling her it was time to separate herself from this situation. To walk away from Roman. He was never hers to love anyway.
Without answering, she placed the receiver on the nursing desk, took one last look through the window into Roman’s room and walked away.
PART TWO
HUNTING FOR TREASURE
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
One year later
Roman looked down at the photo. It made his guts burn with fury every time he saw her picture. Especially if she was smiling or doing something that made her happy. The soft, blond hair – longer now, past her shoulder blades – was cut stylishly with cute short bangs. Wide azure eyes that begged for help, sucking the rich into her schemes, begging to take their expensive goods, never knowing it was she that walked away with their paintings, eating up the foreign countries with those incredibly gorgeous legs. Yet still, he asked for these pictures. Every day he wanted confirmation of her movements. He still loved her. Unequivocally and without reservation. There was no other woman for him.
But he hated her also. Hated how she made him love her and then showed him that he couldn’t keep her. Couldn’t keep her… unless he could rise up to her level. Meet her on an equal playing field. One year ago, he had underestimated the bitch. Had underestimated her connections. He spent seventeen years placing Katerina Pullman on a pedestal rather than seeing her for the conniving, thieving, heartless woman she had been all along.
He should have taken her when he first decided he wanted her. Fuck the rules. Fuck her age. He should have taken her across the border, risen up to his rightful place and dragged her along for the ride. He could have kept her much the same as his father had kept his own mother. It was the way of his family. Women were slaves.
So many times, it was tempting to snatch her up before he was ready. He hunted her across the world. He was close behind her, maybe not physically, but always watching. Waiting to grab her when the time was right. He stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray next to her beautiful face, pulled the cuffs of his expensive shirt straight and strode out the door in search of his second-in-command. He needed to ensure that everything was in place for his bride’s arrival. He couldn’t have his little artist escaping him this time. If he had to chain her to his side for eternity he would do it.
He wasn’t going to act the lovesick fool this time. He would make sure she never escaped him again. The balance of power was on his side this time. Soon he would have her where he wanted her. Soon she would learn her rightful place. He would make her hurt. Not the way she wanted. Not like before. She was going to hurt bad. She was going to atone for his pain this time.
; CHAPTER NINETEEN
Annoyance flickered over Katie’s features as she watched the huge yacht grow closer through the window of the helicopter. She really didn’t like yachts anymore. Trust her benefactor to park his in the Mediterranean and insist she come meet him for her next assignment. She just wanted to get this meeting over with so she could get back to her apartment in Sidney and start researching with Source. Maybe digging up the details of her new assignment would give her something to look forward to. These days, even the rush of a good escape didn’t do much for her.
The helicopter landed seamlessly on the yacht’s landing pad. Katie sent the pilot a distracted smile, unbuckled herself, set the headset aside and slipped from her seat. As usual, the boss himself met her, taking her hand in his. “Guten Morgen, Katerina,” he greeted her in a deeply accented voice, bending to brush his lips across her cheek.
“Good morning, Ivan,” she said pleasantly, taking his proffered arm and allowing him to lead her down the winding stairs from the helicopter pad. She stiffened a little when she heard the helicopter lift off again. Apparently, she was staying for an extended visit. “And how long am I to be your guest this time?”
He chuckled and led her toward the breakfast table under the shadows of a canopy. Pulling a chair out for her, he leaned over to speak in her ear as he seated her. “As long as it takes to sort a few matters out.”
He took the chair beside her rather than across from her. Katie glanced at the food spread across the table and, seeing a wide array of fruit, breads and cheeses, was reminded sharply of her breakfast with Roman. No popcorn though. Of course not. It was a silly detail only those closest to her knew. A sharp pang nearly stole her breath and she almost wished for the familiar numbness. She raised her eyes to Ivan and watched him fill a plate for her. He preferred to do the honours, no matter what she or any other woman in his life wanted. Why were all the men in her life such controlling jerks?
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