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Russian Enforcers Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)

Page 19

by Nic Saint


  Did he resent that she’d caused him to sever ties with his friends and family? That she’d caused this rift with his brother?

  She didn’t know and knew better than to ask. For the past few days, he had hardly spoken a word, appearing grumpy and withdrawn. And now this.

  She felt forlorn, all of a sudden, and very much alone.

  While he was in the shower, she slipped into the thick coat Dimitri’s friend had supplied her with, and stepped out on the deck. She needed some fresh air, and after spending ten minutes basking in the rising sun, and the stiff breeze whipping at her long blond tresses, she felt a lot better already.

  She stood gripping the railing, preparing for another day on the ship, when a noise behind her had her turn around. The angry look on Dimi’s face was the first thing she noticed, then the accusing tone of his voice.

  “Don’t you know better than to step out here all by yourself?”

  Hurt, she wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m not your prisoner, Dimitri. If I want to step out for some air, I can do so.”

  He reached her and took a firm grip on her arms, giving her a vigorous shake that clattered her teeth. “It’s not safe out here, Ariel. I told you.”

  She stared up into his angry face, wondering what his problem was. “I’m well aware of what you told me, and frankly I think it’s nonsense.” She gestured at the ship. “Look around. How many spies do you see? No one even knows we’re here!”

  “Keep your voice down,” he grunted, roughly taking her by the arm and starting to jostle her along the deck to the staircase leading to the cabins below.

  “I won’t be your prisoner anymore, Dimi!’ she yelled, and tried to escape his iron grip.

  “You see him?” he suddenly bit, indicating an old man with a funny-looking cap standing at the railing not thirty feet away.

  “That old guy? What about him?”

  “He’s been staring at you,” he said in a low voice that betrayed his suspicion.

  This startled her. “What do you mean? Does he work for your brother?”

  “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I just know that we won’t be safe until we reach our destination.”

  She frowned as she studied the old man. He seemed perfectly harmless. She’d seen him during meals. Probably a tourist. “I think you’re seeing things. He’s just some nice old man who’s got nothing to do with this.” Once again, she tried to free himself from his grip, and once again he tightened it until it hurt. “Let me go!” she snapped.

  “Look, princess,” he finally growled, taking her by the shoulders. “This isn’t some pleasure cruise or some vacation you’re on. This is us escaping the clutches of one of the most powerful organized crime families in Russia. They have spies everywhere, and it wouldn’t surprise me if that guy is one of them. So do me a favor and quit acting like a spoiled brat.”

  Revolted, she gave him a kick in the shin. This did the trick, and as he muttered a few choice curse words in Russian, he temporarily eased his grip. She broke free and stomped off. She was going to have her morning walk, and no brutish thug would stop her.

  Before she’d gone six paces, he’d caught up with her, and this time he wasn’t so friendly. He unceremoniously picked her up, slung her over his shoulder and started walking away, paying no attention to her fists hitting his legs, or her lips belting out her own stream of vituperation.

  Whoever the old guy was, they’d certainly drawn his attention now, for he stood frowning at the retreating pair: the big, hulking male carrying a slender blond angel over his shoulder like some Neanderthal of old dragging an unwilling woman back to his cave.

  CHAPTER 22

  There wasn’t much she could do to escape the clutches of this infuriating man. Perhaps if she followed a dedicated weightlifting program, got her black belt in aikido, and joined a community self-defense program, she would have stood a chance against the brute. As it was, he simply handled her as if she weighed nothing, and when he finally entered their room, dropped her on the bed like a piece of luggage.

  Instantly, she sprung up like a bouncing ball and flung herself at him, pounding his chest with her fists. “I won’t be treated like this! I’m not your slave or your prisoner, you hear me!”

  He allowed her to spend her rage. Then, when she had exhausted herself, simply held her close, and she felt something snap inside, a last vestige of restraint that now burst, and a torrent of tears flooded her face, wetting the chest she’d inadequately pummeled.

  “For what it’s worth,” he murmured against her hair, “I’m sorry, Ariel.”

  The sudden tenderness of both his words and gestures managed to slay her last defenses, and she broke down into his arms, letting out a long wailing cry. He tucked her into his arms, easily lifted her up from the floor and carried her over to the bed, this time placing her down gently.

  Lying down beside her, he enveloped her in his warm embrace, soothing the meltdown until she was all out of tears, and even then he didn’t let go, giving her the tenderness and support she’d so desperately craved these past few days.

  When his lips found hers, it was as if it were the most natural thing in the world, a natural extension of what they’d shared together, and then she was dissolving into his kiss, his tongue demanding entrance, and the heat of their embrace quickly flared up into a flame of passionate desire.

  The next moment, she was stripping off the heavy coat she was still wearing, and then his hands were roaming her body uninhibited. Eager and desperate for his touch, she tore off the rest of her clothes, and then his lips were on her chest, exploring the tender flesh of her breasts, and she moaned with the intenseness of it all, raking her hands through his wild mane of dark curls, and pressing him on.

  Discarding his own garments, she watched the hulking maleness that was Dimitri, and when her eyes caught the towering girth that whispered promises of the ultimate delight, she involuntarily clasped her hand to her mouth. She hadn’t yet divulged her greatest secret, and it was too late to do so now. “Please,” she softly pleaded. “Be gentle, Dimi.”

  In response, he lay down beside her, cradling her in his arms, and then his lips were on her again, his hands bruising the satiny alabaster of her slender frame as their mouths eagerly drank each other’s nectar. She dissolved in the masculinity of his scent and the taste of his lips, and then she felt his hands cupping her mound. She arched her back, releasing herself to him with shuddering breath, lying back against the pillows, surrendering to the man who’d saved her life after having captured it.

  Please be gentle. The words only formed in her mind now, the touch of his lips to her belly sending ripples of heat shuddering through her, and when he reached the center of her sex and tentatively touched her with fingers and tongue, she thought she could have screamed his name, and then she did, but on a whisper.

  When finally he did enter her, forming a union between his flesh and hers, she winced at the brief twinge of pain that trembled through her. When she looked up into his dark eyes, she saw the surprise, swiftly replaced by tenderness. And as he slowly curved inside her, the bloom of pain spread into a blanket of pleasure and then she was swept up in the age-old ritual of love, ancient as time but fresh to her. And when finally she trembled on the verge of something she’d never experienced before, she cried out with the intensity of it all and the overwhelming explosion of pleasure that rocked her to the core.

  When they lay together, spent, Dimi stroked the softness of her throat, then the swell of her heaving bosom, and whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I—I guess I felt ashamed,” she confessed, feeling shy all of a sudden.

  He kissed her tenderly, then nibbled her earlobe, sending fresh shoots of electricity skipping through her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck to draw him closer, insatiable now for the new pleasures of making love to the man she’d come to care deeply about.

  She trailed her fingers along the hard ridges of his ropy arms and the rippling bulge
s of his chest as he bent over her and took her mouth. And then they were one again, and the sensation elicited a surprised yelp from her lips, and then she was slammed back into a world she’d only guessed at, and she was floating in a universe of pure bliss and the ecstasy of the flesh. Even more gentle and slowly than the first time, he made love to her the way a man makes love to his woman, and she realized, gazing into his eyes, now veiled with the heat of the moment, that there was a lot more to Dimitri Loginovsky than she could ever have guessed.

  Deep pools of mystery swam beneath the surface, and catching her first glimpse of the intensely passionate man riding her with an abandon and a determination that lifted her up on the rising ocean of his unleashed spirit, she knew they’d crossed a line today. They’d entered a world that was new to them both. When finally they were propelled into the ultimate bliss, their souls locked in a fiery intensity, the smokiness in his eyes revealed an endless yearning for her—for them.

  CHAPTER 23

  “I love you, I love you, I love you, Dimitri Loginovsky,” she exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around him, unwilling and unable to let go.

  They’d barely left the bed for twenty-four hours, and had barely slept either, both of them insatiable now that they’d finally found each other. Things had progressed quickly after the initial bashfulness had waned, and now Ariel had no qualms declaring her love to this fascinating and exhilarating man.

  “Stop wearing out my name, woman,” he grumbled, humor lifting the corners of his mouth. He knew what she wanted to hear, and was reluctantly acknowledging it was what his heart had been telling him all this time. He loved her. He really did. For the first time, this strange emotion had found its way into his life, and a woman who’d been his prisoner had claimed his heart for her own.

  Of course, he’d known it long before this moment. He’d known it since Roman had shown him her picture. But that hadn’t been love, he now decided, but mere infatuation. A fascination with her smile, her lovely face, the gracefulness of her features. Only when finally he made her acquaintance, had the superficial attraction deepened, and now that they’d made love for the first time, did he have the courage to confess what his heart had known all along: he loved Ariel Cole.

  After twenty-eight years, his willful heart had succumbed to the wiles of the other sex. In his line of business, love was not a boon but an affliction. Not a gift gratefully accepted, but a hindrance to be avoided. Now that he was officially retiring from the business of hurting people, with a future as uncertain as everything else in his life, he had to admit he’d fallen for her hard. He gently took her lips again, and when finally they parted, rubbed her cheek with his thumb, then gazed into those miraculous eyes of hers, and confessed, “I love you, Ariel. I love you and I want you to be in my life from now on.”

  “I want you to be in mine,” she breathed, face ecstatic with joy and relief.

  He gave her a wry smile. “I would ask you to marry me, but since we’re already husband and wife…” Then he reached behind him and grasped the ring box from the nightstand. Opening it, he explained, “If you don’t want to wear it, that’s fine, honey. It must hold some bad memories for you.”

  She stared down at the golden band with its intricate design of diamonds and smiled. Last time, she couldn’t wait to remove it from her finger. This time, she couldn’t wait to slip it on.

  “I love it,” she whispered. Though their meeting had been unusual, and this ring had briefly represented her captivity and a marriage she hadn’t chosen, she now saw it as a symbol of Dimi’s love for her.

  “I chose it myself,” he explained, interpreting her hesitation for rejection. “Even though our marriage was a set-up, I wanted you to have this ring to ease the pain.” He’d chosen the ring against Roman’s advice. Roman had wanted to get her something cheap, but he had insisted on buying her a real wedding ring, something that would speak of his deep affection for her.

  When he looked up, he was shocked to find tears in her eyes, and he reached out a tentative hand to wipe them away. Dammit. He knew he shouldn’t have given her the same stupid ring. He should have waited until they arrived, and then he could have gotten her something new—untethered to the ugly past.

  But then she surprised him by bursting into an attractive peal of laughter. “I love it, Dimi. Thank you so much.” And as she allowed him to slip it onto her finger, she announced, “I’ll wear it for the rest of my life, a symbol of our love.”

  Relieved, he gazed into her misty eyes, and thought she was the most precious thing he’d ever held in his arms. The power of the love he felt for her frankly scared him a little, for he knew that if ever anything happened to her, he would be crushed.

  “Thank you,” she smiled, and when she kissed him, he knew that all his dreams had come true. He loved, and was loved in return. Such an amazing gift. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it, but he would cherish her and love her and take care of her until the end of his days.

  “Now I can’t wait to show it to Mom!” she exclaimed.

  He smiled. “And I can’t wait to meet her.”

  She looked a little flustered all of a sudden. “You won’t have to wait long, honey. She’ll be waiting for us when we arrive.”

  He emitted a groan of despair. “God, honey, don’t tell me you called her.”

  She shrugged. “Not called her, exactly. Simply slipped this friend of yours an email message.” When he groaned even louder, she faltered, “There’s no way for your brother to know. I mean, it’s not as if they can check emails, right?”

  He looked at her blankly, surprised once again by her innocence and guilelessness. He reached out a hand and stroked her cheek, then offered her a sad smile. “Honey, they’ve been intercepting emails since the dawn of the internet.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Roman had received the news that his brother and the Cole wench would be arriving in New York with mixed emotions. On the one hand, he knew he should be glad he’d have them both in his grasp very soon. On the other… Well, this was his little brother they were talking about.

  News of his treason had now reached the upper echelons of the organization, and word had been sent down that Dimitri’s life was over.

  He might be a loyal soldier to the Gornakovs for going on two decades now, but he’d be damned if he would give the order to capture and kill his own kid brother.

  Instead, he’d decided to ignore the missive, and proceed as planned. He had a worthy replacement for Ariel Cole, her father having no idea what his daughter would look like after twenty-three years. And Dora, though a royal pain in the ass, was a paid actress who would play her part.

  He glanced over at the woman, now seated beside him on the dais. The reporters had asked her a ton of questions already, and still she was insatiable for attention. You would have thought they’d be more interested in him, or his so-called parents. After all, he was supposed to be the oligarch here, the Russian billionaire. But then his command of English wasn’t as well as hers. And then there were her looks.

  She’d done an amazing job transforming from Dora Liverpool, the sultry Broadway actress, to Ariel Cole, young ingénue who’d just stumbled into the life of her dreams with her billionaire husband.

  He sighed inwardly. If he hadn’t been on a mission, he wouldn’t have minded getting to know her better—getting to know her in the biblical sense. She was one gorgeous female. But then he hated to lose focus when engaged in a delicate operation of this importance, and he had the distinct impression that Dora Liverpool could make a man lose his focus in a heartbeat if he let her.

  Was that what had happened to his brother? Was that how Dimi had lost his way? He knew he should have taken out the wench before she had the chance to bewitch the young man with her charms. If twenty years on the job had taught him anything, it was that women were a major liability in this business.

  He still didn’t know what to do about his brother, or the woman he’d fallen for. Though he still thought she
should be taken out of the picture, it was obvious Dimi would never return to the fold. Once you betrayed the family, there was no way back. And if he killed Ariel now, it would devastate Dimi.

  And then there was the contract out on Dimi himself. He couldn’t possibly execute that order. But if he didn’t, somebody else would.

  Decisions, decisions.

  He briefly glanced at Lilia and Andre. They hadn’t been much use to him, merely acting as part of the decor. They were now sitting, stiff as boards, staring at the reporters and news crews like deer in the headlights, and had answered most questions with monosyllabic responses.

  He was stirred from his thoughts by a reporter calling out his name.

  “Mister Demiakov, sir?”

  He shifted in his seat and focused on the question, expecting the man to ask something about the oil business he was supposedly a magnate in. He’d prepared for his role on the plane, reading up on the real Demiakov, whom he vaguely resembled, and on the intricacies of his business: oil prices, the new gas pipeline to China and geopolitical issues.

  “Do you think American women are more beautiful than Russian?”

  Oh, God. What an idiot. He plastered his best smile on his face. It required the application of muscles he rarely used, and then he saw Dora’s hand snake toward his. Looking up, he blinked as he stared into the most radiant face he’d ever seen, the wattage of her smile momentarily blinding him. Without thinking, he blurted out, “There is nothing more beautiful than the American woman.”

  Approving murmurs ran through the throng of reporters.

  “Thank you, honey,” Dora said. Then she turned to the audience, the consummate professional. “But of course I knew that already.”

  That got a big laugh, and Roman couldn’t help admire her audacity. The family’s two hundred grand were well spent.

 

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