Movement at the small bar set in the corner of the club caught his attention, tearing his eyes from Claudia. Another man watched her with an intensity that instantly had Tyson’s blood pressure rising. But this guy wasn’t watching her the way the others were. His greedy eyes were cold with material lust over sexual interest. His eyes devoured her every move, like she was his payday. Shit. Tyson had hoped he’d have more time.
He leaned back, big body causing the chair underneath him to creak in protest, and turned his head to Mercer who leaned in to listen. “My plans involving the woman have changed. See the Hispanic man at the bar?” Mercer nodded, his deadly gaze riveting to the guy whose eyes were on King’s woman. The guy took out a cell phone and dialled as the two men watched. “Get Mike to bring the car around. She may not exit willingly. Be ready, I want this smooth and quiet.”
Mercer nodded in understanding and straightened, pulling his phone out to text the driver. The ex-guerrilla knew how to read situations with brutal clarity. Knowing Tyson’s interest in Claudia Cantore, he probably assumed the plans had changed the moment she stepped foot in the club, a place she clearly didn’t belong, where trouble could so easily find her. If Mercer were known for softer emotions, let alone any kind of emotion, he might feel pity for the woman who had unknowingly captured the attention of the city’s kingpin.
The two women had joined a lower stakes poker game and played for several minutes when Tyson noticed an irate Asher Bowles stalking toward the game, his eyes locked on the women. Tyson tensed, as did Mercer at his back. Mercer may have become friendly with the lethal fighter, but he knew his boss wasn’t going to allow interference with the woman, which was part of the reason Tyson utterly trusted the deadly bodyguard. Mercer’s last loyalty always lay with Tyson King.
Ash approached the table and stood directly behind Anastasia Sitnikov’s chair, staring down at her with a mixture of fury and intense longing. This was an interesting development that Tyson would have to look into further. So far as he had known, Ash and the Sitnikov girl had no common interests. She tended to lay low for the most part, well hidden under her brother’s protective wing. Unless the Russian’s were looking for a new fighter to add to their roster; Ash was the best the state had to offer.
Tyson watched dispassionately as Anastasia turned in her chair to confront the big man that looked like he both wanted to tear her apart and eat her up. She looked coldly dismissive of whatever Ash was saying to her, which visibly infuriated the usually unflappable man. Interesting.
Claudia had been watching the exchange between the two with hesitant interest, her green eyes wide with frightened uncertainty. Anastasia took her hand and stood with Claudia to face Ash. They were two small morsels facing off with the lethal championship fighter.
Tyson stood and jerked his head toward the exit. “Meet me at the car.”
Mercer nodded and, without another glance around, followed Tyson’s orders, both spoken and unspoken. He would make sure his boss and the woman could make a swift and quiet exit.
Tyson kept his eyes glued to the situation unfolding across the room as he stalked around tables to reach Claudia. Though he had no idea what was happening between Ash and the Russian girl, he wasn’t impressed that his woman was being dragged into things. It would likely save Ash’s life that he, and the rest of the city besides Mercer, had no clue that Tyson King was staking a claim on Claudia Cantore. Once the news became known, anyone that dared speak to her without his permission would face swift and brutal consequences.
Claudia watched the conversation between her friend and the huge fighter with breathless anxiety. It was clear she had no idea what she could do to help Anastasia, but the woman attempted to back her friend both physically and verbally by snapping at Ash while clinging to her friend. Tyson hurried toward them, worried that Ash would strike out at the lovely blond trying to protect her friend. To his relief, Ash only looked darkly amused by her outburst.
Tyson arrived in time to prevent her from taking her tirade against Ash further. Sensing his presence behind her, Claudia tensed from head to toe and spun around to face him. Her wide eyes collided with his chest only inches from her face. She stared at him in shock and trepidation.
Satisfaction flooded him as she laid eyes on him up close for the first time. Her nervous gaze took in his massive proportions and widened in fear and curiosity.
“Is there a problem here?” his deep voice rumbled over her head.
Claudia stumbled back against Anastasia and watched as he challenged Ash. Tyson could only imagine what she thought of him. He was a big, dark-skinned, scarred up man who took what he wanted using any method that would work in his favour. As a result, violence surrounded him like a cloak, usually terrifying those that didn’t know him. Once they knew him better, and their opinions of his brutality were confirmed, they tended to think even more harshly of him. Usually that worked for him, but it was unfortunate that he might now frighten Claudia.
Ash didn’t back down. Instead, he nodded. “I need to have a conversation with my woman here, in private.”
King took in the situation at a glance. Ash had clearly staked his claim on Anastasia Sitnikov, which was perhaps a very stupid thing to do, given her mob connections, but Tyson had to admire his guts. He nodded, “I can take care of the other one.”
“No!” Claudia gasped.
Tyson swallowed his instant annoyance at her denial. He reminded himself that he would need to show a little patience with her. She didn’t know who he was or what he was capable of. Soon enough she would learn not to deny him anything, if she wanted to live a happy, comfortable life.
“Thanks man, I owe you,” Ash said, reaching for Anastasia and jerking her into his arms. He began dragging her away from the table toward the club exit.
“Hey!” Claudia cried out, starting to go after her friend. Tyson placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and pinned her in place. A shudder rippled through her body at the contact. His grip tightened and he had to remind himself to go gently now that he finally had Claudia Cantore in his grasp. He turned her around to face him.
Studying her face, he wrapped long, thick fingers around her slender throat and tilted her chin up with a caressing thumb. He watched the angry, frightened green eyes flare in challenge. He’d never wanted a woman more than he wanted this one. And he finally had the leverage he needed. It was perhaps a stroke of luck that the woman he’d been investigating since seeing her at one of the banks he owned several weeks ago happened to wander into the club he was about to purchase.
“Come,” he said to her, releasing her neck and taking a firm grip on her arm. “Let’s talk.”
Claudia gasped and went with him. He gave her no choice. She tried resisting his hold, but it was unbreakable. “We have nothing to discuss Mr. King,” she hissed. “Let go of my arm!”
Tyson gave her a predatory smile and said, “We have everything to discuss Miss Cantore. Starting with your protection fee. If I was able to find out who you are, it’s a certainty that other interested parties could also find out.”
As they walked Tyson indicated the man at the bar whose gaze never once wavered from his prey, the beauty in the blue dress. Tyson stared at the man with such cold malevolence the guy immediately turned away from them, hunching his shoulders and leaning against the bar. He spoke into his phone in rapid Spanish.
Claudia stared up at Tyson, understanding changing her expression from anger to absolute terror. She went with him unresistingly, but her tense body was still ready for flight. He held her tightly, enjoying the softness of her skin beneath his fingers. Fierce hunger burned within him as he touched her for the first time, admitting that the change in his original plan was a good thing. It was time to stop gathering information on Claudia and take the woman herself.
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Bonus – Excerpt from Book 4: Savage Vendetta
“I have an offer for you,” Sitnokov said, his dark eyes drinking her in.
“Be my mistress.”
Jane sat frozen in her chair caught between laughter at the absurdity of his proposition, and terror. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You would let a cop get that close to you? Just to scratch an itch? You like to live dangerously, don’t you, Sitnikov? Sure, yeah, let’s do it. Can we go back to your place now? Can I have the code to your safe before we get down?”
His lips curled in a quasi smile at her sarcasm. “No, I would not allow a police detective access to my private life,” he said calmly.
Jane frowned. “I don’t understand. Supposedly you want to have a fling with me, a detective, but you don’t plan on letting law enforcement near you. I’m not sure how long it’s been for you, but usually that kind of intimacy requires a physical presence. Not that I’m even remotely entertaining the idea of any kind of relationship with you. Not happening, Russian.” She spat the last word.
He didn’t seem to enjoy the way she spoke to him. His body was rigid in the seat and he seemed to be struggling with himself. She was happy to have a weapon close at hand. She suspected that no one spoke to the Boss the way she just had. Or if they did, they quickly found themselves without a tongue and having silent conversations with fishes. She had to bite her own tongue just from pointing out her original assertion that she tended to annoy people.
“Listen to my offer, then give your opinion, woman.” He deliberately sneered the last word. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp, taking in every expression that crossed her features. “You will quit your job and come to live with me. For a time, we will share a home and a bed. I will pay you a monthly fee that will make your current salary look like a child’s allowance. I will also give you a generous settlement and a house once we have finished our association.”
Jane’s breath caught in her chest and pain blossomed. She felt sudden and intense hatred for the man sitting across from her. It made her feel out of control, something she hadn’t felt for years. Not one to hide her feelings, Jane reached out and picked up the gun. She pointed it at him, flipped the safety off and said, “We’re done with this conversation. You can go now.”
His dark eyes snapped in fury before he hid it under his usual icy visage. “You do not like my terms, though they are more than generous? Name what it is you want then, I may be willing to negotiate.”
Jane clenched her teeth and spoke in a furious voice. “I want you to admit to the murder of Dennis Yankovich. On record. Then I want you to go rot in a federal prison somewhere for the rest of your life. In the mean time, you can take your offer and go fuck yourself.”
He thought for a moment, his body straining in his seat, and then shook his head slightly. “I don’t think I will accommodate that request, no matter how attractive I find you. Put the gun down, Jane. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Fuck you, Sitnikov. Get out of my apartment. Now!” she snapped. “The answer is no. You don’t get to touch me, ever.”
Sitnikov stood, his long limbs unfolding with the fluidity of a lion rising from rest. Jane stood also, not wanting to feel small or trapped around this predatory man. He stalked around the table toward her. His lean, muscular body tensed with lethal intent. Jane brought the gun up, her grip steady and professional. She snapped, “Stop, don’t you come near me!”
Rather than waste time responding, Sitnikov stepped swiftly to the side, forcing her to bring her gun arm around. Before the gun settled on him again, he reached out and gripped her wrist in a ruthless hold that made her cry out, and yanked the gun from her grip with his other hand. He moved so quickly Jane didn’t have a chance. He flipped the safety back on and tossed the gun in the direction of her couch.
“No!” she gasped as he took hold of her arms and hauled her bodily up against his hard chest.
Jane reacted quickly, twisting in his arms, attempting to break his hold. He lifted her easily off the ground, giving her less space to fight in. Jane slammed her forehead into his face, aiming for his nose. He moved his head to the side, but she still managed to score a solid hit.
Sitnikov grunted, his cheek and mouth taking the brunt of her hit. His lip split against his tooth and blood spurted down his chin. He twisted her in his arms so her back was pressed against his chest.
“Enough!” he growled.
“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me!” Jane snarled, struggling in his unbreakable hold.
“I have no intention of hurting you, Jane.” His voice was deep and steady against her ear, despite the hit she’d meted out. “But you mistake my intention in coming here. The offer is not contingent on your acceptance. The offer is a bonus for what is inevitable. You will become my mistress.”
He turned her to face him again, his fingers tightening around her arms. He lifted her up until only the tips of her bare toes touched the floor and she was forced to brace her hands against his hard body for stability. She felt the flexed pectoral muscles under his expensive shirt. His heart beat steadily against her fingertips. He dropped his face towards hers, his lips inches from her mouth. He ignored the blood dripping steadily down his chin and onto his shirt collar.
Their breaths mingled as tension snapped in the air around them. He smelled like mint with a hint of cigar and vodka. She braced herself against his chest, her fingers digging into the muscles, as she tried ineffectively to push him away. She tried kicking him, but he moved faster, kicking her legs apart and shoving his legs between hers.
Every self defence maneuver she tried was countered and subdued. She was out of options and trapped in his hold. He seemed to enjoy her fight. There was nothing she could do to stop him. “I don’t want your offer, my answer is no. Now go away!” she hissed. “I knew you were pathetic, Sitnikov, but I had no idea how much. Is this the only way you can pick up women?”
He laughed shortly and tilted his head until his nose touched the damp, sweet-smelling hair just above her ear, smearing blood on her freshly washed skin. He inhaled and said in a deep voice, “I’m giving you the choice to quit your job at the police service, Jane McKinley. Walk away now and I will reward you. I have money. I can buy you beautiful things. At my side you will know only respect and fine things.”
“No!” she snapped. “You’re out of your mind, you fucking psychopath!”
He yanked her up onto her toes and bent his head until their faces nearly touched. He appeared to reach for patience, his lips thinning. “I am giving you this one chance to accept my offer. It is… how do you say… a one-time deal, little cop. If you do not accept now, then you will suffer the consequences of coming to my bed in a much less honourable way.”
“Fuck you!” she snarled trying to rear back.
“In good time.”
“Not in this fucking lifetime you motherfucking son of a bitch. Let me the fuck go!” she snarled at him, her rage and fear making her more reckless than she might have otherwise been in the presence of a criminal boss who had her alone and at his mercy.
Jane tried to lunge backwards in hopes of knocking him off balance enough so she could go for the gun. She didn’t even care if it looked like self defence any more, she was going to empty that gun into his male chauvinistic ass, reload and then shoot her initials into him. He gripped her by the back of the robe and yanked. The robe was wrenched down her arms trapping them at her side and exposing the pale skin and small rounded breasts of her upper body.
He took a handful of her black hair and pulled her head back in a brutal grip. He dropped his head so she could see his dark eyes. They finally showed some emotion, a terrible kind of anger mixed with intense lust. The blood on his mouth and chin gave his already terrifying visage an extra sinister twist.
“You will treat me with respect, woman, or you will find out why I am the most feared man in this city.” He didn’t need to raise his voice to make his message clear. “I am in control now and I will tell you something that I have told no one before.”
“What?” she snapped, her voice quavering slightly.
“You test my control.”
His words were simple, but chilling. They were enough to ensure her silence for the moment.
“I have killed men. I have beaten and broken men. I have destroyed them and done so with extreme control. I never do anything without control.” His breathing altered, becoming more rapid. As he continued, his voice took on a savage edge. “But you, my fuckable little police woman, test my control. I want things I should not want with you. I want to lose my control with you. I want to keep you, own you, hurt you.”
Jane’s breath caught in her throat. “You don’t scare me,” she lied. She shivered, a chill coursing across her bared breasts, causing goosebumps to break out and her nipples to harden.
He laughed. Unpleasantly. Chillingly. “You should be afraid, woman. Because I have never denied myself something I have wanted.”
She stilled completely and ever so slightly pulled her body away from any contact with his.
“Da, I see you comprehend.”
She nodded, daring a look up at him. “What are you going to do?”
He stared down at her for a moment, his gaze sweeping her throat, breasts and belly with scorching heat, and then allowed the tiniest of frowns to mar his otherwise expressionless cold face. “I am going to deny myself, just this once – for both of our sakes. I will walk away from you, Jane McKinley. I will give you the chance to have your shining career without my interference.”
“I repeat, what do you want from me?”
“You need to disappear from my sight, Jane. You need to make yourself scarce.” He spoke next to her ear causing a shiver to trace down her spine. As if he couldn’t help himself, he followed that shiver with one long finger. “You will not seek me out again and you will drop the Dennis Yankovich line of questioning that involves me.”
Jane had known why he was there from the start. He was threatening her in an elemental way to drop the case against him. She had experienced this before. As a small, attractive female policewoman she had endured her share of rape threats. None quite like this, but she was experienced enough to understand where he was going with this.
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