Russian Enforcers Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)

by Nic Saint

  “That was the end,” she corrected. “As I told you, I’m not that kind of girl.”

  “You are. You are perfect girl for me.”

  “Arrogant ass,” she grunted, as shivers ran down her spine and heat spread through her loins.

  His laughter rang out across the platform and surprised her. It was the first time she’d ever heard him laugh.

  “I’m glad I’m able to entertain you,” she stated sourly.

  It was true. The moodiness he’d displayed at the outset of their time together had disappeared completely, and had been replaced by a good-naturedness she hadn’t thought him capable of. She hated to admit it, but he was even more attractive now that the clouds of doom had been wiped from his brow as if by some miracle.

  God, the man was handsome—way more attractive than he had any right to be!

  “You are funny, Dora,” he remarked, eyeing her with more affection than he’d displayed all week or during any of the press conferences they’d given.

  “Thanks. I guess,” she muttered, feeling awkward at this sudden outburst.

  He placed an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, then pressed a kiss on her brow. “I don’t know what you and New York are doing to me, but I like it.”

  She wasn’t doing anything, she thought. And neither was New York. He was doing it all himself. Seducing her—making her legs tremble and her heart sing and her lips twitch. All because of this hulking Russian.

  Crazy. She was crazy.

  Crazy about him.

  CHAPTER 5

  There rose before her mind’s eye the thought of hummingbirds and honey bees, and fresh meadows and grazing cattle, and scraped knees and skipping ropes and hopscotch. The more she told Roman about what life was like for a young girl in Wallisburg, Tennessee, the more she started to realize how much she really missed her hometown.

  She’d grown accustomed to life in the big city, her mind set on making a career for herself where it counted, but now that she told him more about herself than she’d told anyone, she felt an unfamiliar ache tug at her heart, and suddenly felt like calling her folks to see how they were doing. Just hearing those trusty voices was all she needed to know that everything was still all right with the world and her place in it.

  “And how about you? How was life like for Roman Loginovsky on the streets of Moscow?”

  They were ambling along the sun-drenched platform, enjoying the solitude. They passed the workers who were fixing a hole in the fence, and she nodded them a friendly greeting, ignoring their looks of surprise. She felt very much like a VIP, which was true, in a way, Roman being the mayor’s ‘personal friend’.

  “Life was tough on the streets of Moscow,” Roman started to tell. “I was lucky to have friends watch my back. Without them, I’m dead.”

  “Not exactly life in a small town, huh?”

  He grimaced. “Not exactly.”

  “Brothers or sisters?”

  “One brother. Dimitri.” At the mention of the name, he got a faraway look in his eyes, and Dora thought there was a story there. “Mom and dad?”

  “Dad died when I was small boy. I don’t remember him. He worked for Gornakov family. Was shot in a fight with other family. Vladimir Gornakov took care of us. Mom died later. She was sick. Then it was just me and Dimi.”

  “Where is he now?”

  He cast down his eyes at this, and she thought she detected a fleeting look of pain. Better don’t go there, Dora, she admonished herself. But then, to her surprise, he continued, “Dimi fell in love with Ariel Cole. He kidnapped her and fell in love.” He shrugged. “Stuff happens.”

  Sure does, she thought. There’s no rhyme or reason to matters of the heart. “You don’t approve,” she stated.

  He gazed out at the clear blue sky. “I did not. Now? I don’t know. Perhaps Dimi was right. Perhaps finding Nathan Callaway is not important.”

  “What do you need him for?”

  “Family business. Unfinished business. It doesn’t matter.” He directed an earnest look at her. “Since I arrived in America I think about things, Dora.” He seemed to hesitate, then forged ahead. “Can a man change? Really change?”

  She frowned at this question, sensing it meant a great deal to him. “Sure he can. I think all people can change. It just takes a great deal of conviction. Or perhaps a life-changing event.” She lifted her shoulders helplessly. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve changed all that much.” And realizing this for the first time made her yearn to get in touch with her parents even more. Even though she’d passed herself off as the sophisticated Broadway actress, she now realized that deep in her heart she was still plain Ella Tackelburg from Wallisburg.

  “A life-changing event,” he repeated slowly. His intent stare disconcerted her a little. Then he added, “Or a life-changing person?”

  She nodded her agreement, wondering where this conversation was headed.

  Roman had returned his gaze to the city below. “Love changed Dimi. I hated it. Tried to stop him. Now I’m think he was right. He’s the lucky one.”

  Though she didn’t understand what he meant by this, she still took a hold of his hand and leaned against his shoulder. She needed to feel comforted all of a sudden, the conversation having taken her down a road she hadn’t expected.

  “Maybe you’ll introduce me to Dimi one day,” she murmured.

  “Maybe you’ll introduce me to your family one day.”

  She wondered if he was serious, then nodded against his shoulder. “Maybe I will.”

  “You will tell them: Hey, look. This is my Russian husband Roman Loginovsky. How do you like him? And they will look surprised and then we will drink beers together and have barbecue on the back porch and we will be great friends.”

  The picture he’d drawn made her a little wistful. It was hard to imagine her coming home with this huge Russian by her side. Instead of offering him a beer, she imagined Dad would bring out his shotgun and chase him off his property, mistaking Roman for a gangster.

  Well, he would be right, she thought with a giggle.

  “Why do you laugh?” Roman wanted to know.

  “I just imagined the look on my father’s face if he saw me coming down the drive, hand in hand with the biggest, meanest-looking Russian he’s ever seen.”

  He eyed her sternly. “I am not mean.”

  She gave his arm a squeeze. “But you sure are big, Roman.”

  “That I am,” he said in a low voice.

  As she gazed into his smoldering eyes, she swallowed at the promise they held, and when he slipped his hand beneath her chin and moved in for a kiss, she felt her head spin for a moment.

  This was all going way too fast.

  But then she parted her lips, and when the kiss deepened, she welcomed it with relish.

  CHAPTER 6

  “Lo and behold. If it isn’t the wayward wanderer breezing in.”

  Joanna welcomed the fair-haired woman with the affection she’d come to feel for her. Standing at the kitchen counter, she surveyed Ariel with more warmth than she usually awarded friends of her husband’s.

  Joanna Royale might not be an English teacher anymore, she still had an eye for reading the people that passed through her life. Ever since she and Vitaly had bought a home on the outskirts of Lincoln, the small town in the heart of Maryland, she’d been feeling a little lonely on the days her husband went to work.

  “I love the garden,” said Ariel. Her cheeks were flushed, and it was obvious the fresh air had done her good. After spending days running from the Russian Mob on board some ship or other, the young woman finally seemed to be settling in.

  They’d blown in only a couple of nights ago, she and her husband, a young Russian called Dimitri, and Joanna had felt concern when Vitaly explained that the couple was wanted by the Gornakov family, a well-known crime family in Moscow, its tentacles reaching as far as New York and other parts of the States.

  Just knowing that the Gornakovs had been business par
tners of Yury Abraskamov, Vitaly’s former employer and a man who’d meant Joanna harm, was enough to see the violent ghosts of her recent past returning to the fore.

  Vitaly had assured her that no one would dare touch them here. For one thing, the deal with his former associate and good friend Bogdan Travnikov was still in place, and so was his friendship with Yury’s daughters Yana and Tatyana, who had inherited their father’s vast empire.

  And then there was the deal he’d made with the US government. In exchange for supplying them with information about organized crime, he’d been granted immunity and protection.

  In fact, it was a government agent who had ushered Dimitri and Ariel into their home, claiming they would be safe here from the clutches of these Gornakovs.

  “I think what you need now is a nice cup of tea,” suggested Joanna when the young woman wandered aimlessly about the kitchen, her eyes darting from picture frame to picture frame, finally coming to rest on Vitaly and Joanna’s wedding portrait. They’d finally gotten married the traditional way, with Joanna dressed in white, and Vitaly for the first time in his life rocking a tux. Bogdan had been Vitaly’s best man, Yana her maid of honor.

  “I like this picture,” said Ariel. “When was it taken?”

  “Only last year.”

  The girl turned to her. “Is it true that your husband used to be an enforcer for the Russian Mob?”

  Joanna smiled. When she put it that way, it sounded quite ominous. “It’s true,” she acknowledged. “Vitaly used to work for a local mobster.”

  “Dimitri was an enforcer,” said the girl absently. “His brother still is. They’re trying to kill us, you know,” she added as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  “I know the feeling.” And she did. Being persecuted by Vitaly’s former boss, they’d only narrowly escaped the man’s clutches. She’d taken a seat and invited Ariel to do the same. Reluctantly, her guest draped herself over a chair, but her eyes kept darting all over the place, unable to find peace.

  From the kitchen, they were afforded a view through glass doors of the garden, which stretched green and lush outside. It was a sight Joanna could never tire from. The fact that she now owned her own private garden, to roam around in, or sit reading a book, was a luxury she’d never been afforded before.

  Thanks to a generous settlement from Yury’s daughters, neither Vitaly or she would ever have to work again. But Vitaly had had trouble staying at home and had gone to work for the government, attending regular meetings in Washington with members of the FBI’s organized crime unit.

  “Do you really think we’re safe here?” Ariel asked, her pale face a clear indication of a restless state of mind.

  “Quite safe,” smiled Joanna reassuringly. She placed a hand on Ariel’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “The people who are after you will never find you here, honey. Trust me.”

  Ariel chewed her lip nervously. Her husband had joined Vitaly and Nathan Callaway in Washington, to discuss the events of the past few days, and perhaps offer his assistance in outlining the actives of these Gornakovs in America.

  “When we first moved here, I was obsessed with this notion of safety,” Joanna started to tell. She was holding her cup of tea, warming her hands, the aroma of Rooibos sweet and whispering promises of tranquility. “I kept thinking the men who were after us would find us. Even though the mobster himself was dead, there were others. Associates, friends… competitors, even, who might want to track us down. Luckily nothing ever happened, and I’ve become convinced nothing ever will.”

  The girl turned haunted eyes on Joanna. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because Vitaly made arrangements with the FBI. They’re keeping an eye on us, and keeping us safe. And for another…” She shrugged. “You can’t live in fear, Ariel. At some point, you have to pick up the pieces of your life and move on.” She smiled into eager blue eyes. “You’re too young to hide out in some hole in the ground for the rest of your life, always looking over your shoulder. That’s no way to live.”

  “It’s not,” agreed Ariel. “The thing is, my father works for the FBI, and these Gornakovs are trying to find him. They mean to do him harm.”

  “I shouldn’t worry about that. They have ways of keeping their own safe from the bad men out there.”

  “You don’t know what these Gornakovs are capable of. Dimi tells me they have people everywhere. And then there’s his brother.”

  “Dimi’s brother?”

  Vitaly had told her something about that. Roman Loginovsky was a man to be reckoned with, apparently. And he was in New York right now, giving press conferences and offering a one million dollar reward to anyone who could tip him off to Ariel’s father’s whereabouts. Audacious, to be sure. And dangerous, Joanna thought. It wouldn’t be long before the government cracked down on him and brought him in for questioning.

  “Dimi’s brother is an extremely dangerous man, and now he wants us both dead.”

  “I really don’t think it’s as bad as that,” offered Joanna. “He’s not in Moscow anymore, honey. I think Dimi’s brother will find himself a little out of his depth.”

  Ariel gazed into her eyes with an expression of hopefulness. “Do you really think so?”

  She gave her a reassuring smile. “I know so. I’ve heard Vitaly discuss things with your husband, and the FBI is planning a campaign to root out the influence of these Gornakovs once and for all. I wouldn’t be surprised if Roman finds American hospitality a lot less warm than he expected.”

  Ariel shook her head. “I hope so, Joanna. I really do.”

  She finally sipped from her tea, and Joanna felt a motherly reflex to take her into her arms and press her close. It wasn’t surprising she was feeling this way, as she was expecting to become a mother really soon. Drawing her hands across her belly, she thought with a contented sigh that it wouldn’t be long now. Only three more months and she and Vitaly would become parents at last, their love’s crowning achievement.

  They’d come a long way since the day when they first met in Lincoln Forest, and as their love had blossomed and matured, so had their relationship. They were truly ready now, she felt, to start taking care of other people, their own wounds sufficiently healed to spread their arms and welcome a new member into their family.

  And as she gazed at the young woman seated in her kitchen, she was reminded of a scared little rabbit, and thought this was also part of sharing: taking strangers into their home who needed help and comfort. She stole a hand over to Ariel’s and took it in a firm grip.

  “Everything will work out fine,” she told the young woman.

  There wasn’t anything more she could do but offer the girl the prospect of a safe future and hope of a satisfying resolution.

  In her heart, she knew it would come. When Vitaly got involved, things had a way of working out. No one knew this better than she did.

  She watched as a fluffy ball of fur came bolting into the kitchen, and hop onto Ariel’s lap. The small Maltese licked her nose, and the girl smiled with glee, then hugged the cheerful white dog close.

  Joanna took it as a sign, and as she sipped her tea, directed a small prayer at the universe, both in gratitude and supplication. Please help these nice people, her intent said. Let them share in your grace and happiness, and make their lives as full and blessed as you made mine.

  When Ram gave a happy woof, she knew her prayer had been answered.

  CHAPTER 7

  “I hate it when you do that, Oleg.” Lidiya eyed the man disapprovingly. She’d been forced to share the same apartment with the killer, and his filthy habit of smoking unfiltered cigarettes frankly detested her.

  She was a girl who liked clean living. No alcohol, no drugs, no cigarettes. Heck, she didn’t even drink coffee, and had recently started looking into gluten-free, sugar-free and vegan as well.

  She liked to wake up early, put in her half hour of yoga, and get a head start on the day.

  Her companion, a scrawny, na
sty little man answering to the name Oleg Yugurov, was exactly the opposite: he smoked, drank, snorted an occasional line of coke when he could get some, and was an avid meat-eater. He’d rediscovered McDonalds since they’d arrived in New York and had subsisted on a diet of Big Macs for the past two days.

  It was disgusting, Lidiya thought, and though she’d refrained from voicing any comments hitherto, she could tolerate his foul habits no longer.

  The man didn’t even bother to look up from the daytime soap he was engrossed in.

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Are you listening? I want you to stop smoking when I’m around. I don’t want to get second-hand smoker’s cancer!”

  In response, Oleg drew in a long puff from his hand-rolled cigarette, and directed a plume of smoke directly at her.

  This was too much, Lidiya thought, and stomped over to him, flicked the cigarette from his fingers and stood glowering, daring him to retaliate.

  He might be a vicious killer, but she was no pussycat either. Instead of taking a swipe at her, the man merely grinned his hideous grin, his yellowed teeth showing.

  “Nice going, princess,” he grunted. “Now you owe me one.”

  “I don’t owe you a damn thing, Oleg Yugurov!”

  He dismissed her with a shrug, and returned his attention to the inane soap he’d become addicted to. She turned away in disgust. It was bad enough that she’d had to come all the way to America to find and take out her former friend, but now she had to put up with this horrible man as well. She’d known this mission would be a bust the moment Alexei had explained it to her. No way was Oleg going to accomplish what he’d been tasked with. Instead of doing reconnaissance, the designated killer was whiling away his time watching TV.

  She grabbed her coat from the chair. “I’m going out,” she announced curtly.

  He merely held up his hand and twiddled his fingers. “Have fun, princess.” Without turning, he added, “Oh, and bring me some food while you’re at it, will you? And some tobacco.” He grinned. “You owe me, remember?”