PRIZE: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance

by Sophia Gray

  So, as I waved off my inexplicable attraction to and desire for him, I tried to come up with an explanation. An excuse. Something that would force Nikolai from me, make him think I was not the thing he wanted.

  Why am I the thing he wants? I found myself wondering.

  Whatever I knew about Nikolai, there was no denying that he was sexy and handsome and clearly had money. He could attract any woman he wanted. And more to the point, he wouldn’t have to settle with only a single woman. He could go out and pick up anyone, just as he had with me, at the bar. He could take them home, fuck them senseless—my body shivered at the memory of the things he’d done to be—then leave them just as he’d done that first night with me. Why settle for some farm girl who didn’t know anything about sex and her baby?

  Then something else hit me. Before I could get any warm and fuzzy ideas about how it was sweet that he wanted to step up and claim the baby or how sexy it was that he wanted to spend my life with me, I realized that there was another option. A much more likely probability. What if he had no intentions of being just with me?

  Sure, he was sitting there on my bed looking down at me with fiery eyes that told me he wanted to physically show me just how much he wanted me. And, yes, he was talking about how I now belonged to him, claimed me as his once and for all. But nowhere in any of that did he say that he belonged to me, too.

  What if he was intending on keeping me, using me for sex—or even a brooding mare! —then when he got bored with me, going out to the bars again to pick up some other woman? What if he intended to keep fucking others even as I raised his baby, isolated and not allowed to go out in search of another man who might love me?

  It was an awful thought and it filled me with both fear and disgust. But most of all, it made me ache. I wasn’t sure why, wasn’t sure what it meant, but my chest hurt from the idea that maybe he would sleep with other women.

  Why should I care? After all, he was a hit man and not a good match for me at all. I had already decided I didn’t want him raising my baby, so what did I care if he went out and bedded other women? I shouldn’t care at all, I thought, but even that knowledge wasn’t enough to completely dispel the tense feeling in my chest.

  Pushing it aside forcefully, I focused on Nikolai. He was sitting there with his eyes now locked on where my stomach would be beneath the covers, as though he could already see his baby growing in my womb. He couldn’t; it was still too early. But he watched me anyway.

  The possession was clear in his expression and I knew instantly that just telling him no wasn’t an option. I had to come up with something else, and fast. Which was why I blurted the first thing that came to my mind, though it wasn’t anywhere near the truth.

  “It’s not yours,” I said stiffly. “I…you were wrong to assume. It’s not yours. I…I meant that I was going to tell you because I didn’t want you getting the wrong idea. Or getting involved with…when it wasn’t yours.”

  It was a boldfaced lie, but it must have been somewhat convincing, because Nikolai jerked his eyes back up to my face. He looked…hurt. Or maybe angry. Or maybe both.

  “What?” he demanded. “That’s not possible. I was your first. I was your only.” His voice had dropped to a growl that sent strange shivers through my entire body. Definitely angry, but not just angry either.

  I cleared my throat, forcing myself to look him in the eye so it seemed like I was being completely honest as I said, “I lied.” I shrugged my shoulders, forcing myself to continue, though I found it harder to do as I moved forward with the attempt. “I…I just said it because I heard guys were turned on by virgins. I…I’m one hundred percent certain that…that…” I winced and hoped he didn’t catch it, not knowing why this last part was so hard for me to get out. Not knowing why it made my chest hurt so much, why I felt so awful for making this all up. Not sure why it hurt me to try so hard to make Nikolai not want me. “That Shawn is the father. He’s my fiancé. We’re getting married. It’s his baby. I’m positive.”

  There was a long moment where Nikolai simply sat there. He stared at me, seemingly frozen in time or lost in some thoughts that were far, far away from me. For a second, I thought I’d actually broken him somehow. He looked so vulnerable. It was almost enough to make me feel awful about what I’d told him, and for a wild moment, I almost went back and said it was all a lie. But then the anger came.

  He jerked up to a standing position, his face growing red with anger. His eyes flashed at me and I felt a twinge of guilt race through me. I loved those eyes, the way they always looked at me with hunger.

  Except not now. Now, they were just angry.

  I’m sorry, I found myself thinking. But I didn’t say it aloud. I couldn’t. It didn’t matter how much my heart ached to have Nikolai with me. It didn’t matter that I wanted him in ways that I’d never wanted any other man. It didn’t matter that he filled me with warmth and need and something else that I couldn’t explain but was breaking right in that moment. It didn’t matter, because I simply couldn’t let him raise my baby. I couldn’t.

  “Positive,” he repeated.

  I answered, though it wasn’t really a question and I didn’t really want to say it. “Yes, positive.” It hurt me to get the words out, but I managed.

  He began to pace angrily along the length of my floor. Which really wasn’t much. In one stride, he was across it and had to turn around to take another stride and repeat the process. There just wasn’t enough space in my bedroom area for proper pacing, but he was trying. Probably because the tension that lined his shoulders looked vicious and I was pretty sure anger consumed him.

  But he wasn’t leaving. I had the sinking suspicion that there was some small part of him that was thinking things through, that he was trying to come to some sort of conclusion. Maybe trying to make himself be okay with me having lied or me having slept with Shawn or even the baby not being his. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like he was still trying to make himself all right with me belonging to him when I so clearly had been with someone else.

  How odd, I thought.

  Why would he care? Really, a baby was a burden, wasn’t it? Most guys didn’t even want one. And though Shawn had stepped up to the plate, it seemed to me it had more to do with some lingering puppy love for me rather than any want for a child.

  The thought made me a little annoyed. Did I really want Shawn, who didn’t seem to actually want my baby, marrying me and raising it?

  Pushing that thought aside, I reminded myself that it was the best of a bunch of really bad options. No, I wasn’t in love with Shawn. No, the baby wasn’t his. No, I didn’t want to be married to him for the rest of my life, but it was time to make some adult decisions. Shawn would be a good father and husband, even if the love he felt for me would have to be forever unrequited. I would do my best to try to be a good little wife, to even love him if I could. The thought caused the aching in my chest to worsen, but I somehow knew it would never be what I wanted.

  Unfortunately, it was my only option left. I couldn’t let Nikolai be the father of my child, no matter how much he seemed to want to. His life was filled with murder and danger and the little fact that he was after my brother.

  How could I let the man who wanted to murder my brother be the father of my child?

  There was a simple answer: I couldn’t.

  So, I pushed forward, even though it was like ripping out my own heart. “Nikolai, I’m marrying Shawn.” I said it with as much firmness as I could. Enough power in those words to make them believable even to my own ears, which were still trying to translate the words into something else that sounded a lot more like Nikolai. It was enough to make Nikolai turn and stare at me. The anger hadn’t disappeared, nor had the tension, but there was something else lacing it, too. Something that I couldn’t place, or maybe just didn’t want to. Finally, I had to look away to say the very last part, possibly the most important part. “I’m marrying Shawn and I never want to see you again. Not ever.”

 
; Rage bloomed anew on Nikolai’s face. He was livid, anger and anguish marring his beautiful features until I felt as though I’d wrecked something precious. His eyes flashed with unspoken words. Things that were probably terrible, meant to be like cutting, slicing knives to dive into my heart and my flesh. He probably wanted me to hurt like I seemed to be making him hurt, but there was nothing to be done about it. His mouth remained shut and with one last scathing look, he turned away from me.

  I felt that ache in my heart intensify. Suddenly, I felt like I was struggling to breathe. I didn’t know why it was so hard to watch him walk away, but it was causing me what felt like real, physical pain.

  I wanted him to stay. Despite how bad I knew he was for me and my baby, I felt inexplicably drawn to him. I wanted him to be here with me.

  But he couldn’t be in my life. I had to think about not only what was best for me, but for my baby, too. Not to mention my brother.

  Nikolai paused at the door. He turned and looked straight at me, that last look so searing that I could almost feel it like a punch in the gut. Finally, he turned away and stomped out the door, slamming it closed behind him.

  I waited several beats in the silence that followed before it consumed me.

  He’s gone. He’s gone, and with what I’ve said, he’s never coming back.

  The knowledge of that fact wracked my body. Sobs came up unbidden. Curling myself up in a ball on my bed, I cried until I had no tears left. When I was finally exhausted, I fell asleep.

  Chapter 20

  Nikolai

  Angry did not begin to cover what I was feeling in that moment. As I slammed the door to Madeline’s apartment behind me there was a sense of finality that shook my system to the core. The idea that somehow everything I had experienced with Madeline was a lie was almost too much for me to bear. Emotions swamped me until I wasn’t even sure what I was thinking.

  Was I angry with her for lying to me? Or upset at the idea that the baby wasn’t mine? Should I feel relieved about the whole thing—or was this a moment to feel betrayed?

  I wasn’t certain, but there was one little thing that I couldn’t quite put out of my head: what if Madeline was lying? Not then, not before when she told me she had been a virgin and that I had been her very first. No, instead, what if it was just now that had been a lie? I had witnessed her tears. She’d seemed genuinely afraid to tell me about the baby, but not because it wasn’t mine. Instead, she’d seemed positive that it was mine and that her hesitancy to tell me stemmed from this idea that I wouldn’t have wanted it.

  And perhaps I shouldn’t have. God knew it would make my life much more complicated. In the end, Madeline had given me a very viable way out. No child to worry about. No lover to remain at home, preventing me from entertaining other female guests in my home or my bed. No responsibilities as such.

  Except I had pictured a life with all of those things—a life with Madeline and that baby—and now there was a strange, aching part of me that wanted it. The urge was so strong that I had to force myself to take deep, soothing breaths and remember I was standing outside her apartment because there was a chance the baby wasn’t mine.

  But I just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was.

  There was a huge part of me that wanted to march right back in there and demand she tell me the truth. I wanted her to admit she wanted me just as much as I wanted her, that I had been her first, that her desire for me had driven her to give up her virginity to me and me alone. I wanted her to pour out her deepest desires, because I knew they circled around me. She had to be craving the same things I was. She had to want deep, passionate sex that left her aching in the morning, but sated in a way that she’d never been before.

  She had to.

  And some part of her had to want to tell me the baby was mine. I knew it.

  But the much more rational part of me knew that was a poor choice. Madeline had made it clear that she didn’t want to admit the baby was mine—if it was at all, of course—and going back now would only cause more problems. No, I would have to leave so I could clear my head. I had to think things through and come up with a better approach. A means of proving the baby was mine, to begin with, and then a way of proving how much Madeline wanted me.

  Things that would take some careful planning, I was beginning to assume.

  Plus, if I gave Madeline enough time alone, maybe she would come to her senses. Once she’d calmed down about the whole thing, she could realize that we were clearly made for each other. And more importantly, that she was already mine, not that asshole fiancé of hers. She didn’t belong with him. If she did, she wouldn’t keep spreading her legs for me to fit between.

  Resolving to give things a little space and time, I reminded myself I had a job to complete anyway. Logan’s trail was getting cold and since I hadn’t learned anything of his whereabouts from Madeline—as though I’d even asked in the first place—I was falling quickly behind. If I didn’t get my ass in gear, I was going to end up right back where I started.

  I decided I needed to put all of my attention in finding and killing Logan. Once that was taken care of, I could deal with the issues with Madeline. And if that gave her enough time to get married before coming to her senses, if that meant killing a husband, so be it.

  Feeling better at least a little bit now that I had renewed direction, I focused my attention on my work.

  Turning determinedly from the door, I stalked down the hallway towards the stairs that would lead me to the lobby. I considered where Logan might be now, given that he clearly wasn’t hiding out at Madeline’s. The only smart thing the asshole had done in the first place. If he dragged her into this, I might be forced to do worse than kill him. I still didn’t think the father was a place Logan would go. It was out of town, which would be the smart move to make, but I was getting the impression that the father was…stricter and less forgiving than Madeline.

  What sort of young woman, as beautiful and lovable as Madeline, was still a virgin in her early twenties? The answer was one who had been raised to believe in waiting for sex until marriage. And typically, those types of parents were very strict in their belief systems and less forgiving of straying from the path.

  Which might be why Madeline is so eager to be married.

  The thought came unbidden, but as soon as it was there I felt that it was viable. After all, if her father was strict about the whole no sex until marriage thing, then her being pregnant would put her at odds with her family. But if she married Shawn before she started showing…yes, it was certainly a realistic scenario.

  Unfortunately, so was the one where she lied about being a virgin in the first place.

  I frowned and tried to refocus on Logan. The father was out as a hiding place. So, obviously, was Madeline. There was no mother. So, what were my options? I thought about his partner from the bar that night. Was there a possibility that I could get more information on him and that they were maybe hiding out together? It seemed reasonable. I decided I would try Peter first, then Mickey. The less I had to involve Mickey, the happier he would be about the whole thing.

  I headed down the stairs, finally emerging into the lobby. I noticed there wasn’t even a person sitting at the front desk and thought not for the first time how lousy of a place this was. She can’t stay here, I thought, and had to remind myself I was trying to give Madeline space.

  Obviously, it wasn’t going very well just yet.

  As I was making my way towards the door, I noticed a young man heading in. He had dirt colored hair and a summery tanned skin tone, but otherwise was unremarkable. I would have walked right past him if I hadn’t had a sudden, vivid spark of memory. He was standing next to Madeline just opposite her apartment door. They were leaving together, talking and familiar in a way that made my hackles rise. I didn’t care for the way they were being so casual, so used to each other’s presence. It didn’t settle well with me to the point where I had the urge to sink my fist into his face.

  A similar r
eaction came over me now, but stronger in intensity as I finally put some of the pieces together. This man here was Shawn. Her fiancé. The man whom she claimed had gotten her pregnant, but wasn’t man enough to make her want him the way she wanted me.

  Sudden, blinding rage consumed me and all I wanted to do was inflict serious violence upon this unsuspecting wretch of a man. I should have kept walking, but I couldn’t do it. Maybe if I hadn’t caught his gaze and seen sudden spark of recognition on his part, too, I could have done it. But this man had put together who I was just as I’d done with him, which sparked a mingling of anger and hope in my chest.