by Nic Saint
“I will never go back to the business of causing pain for a living, Joanna. I could not—not now that you are in my life.”
“Never again?”
“Never,” he promised, and she believed him.
They’d been leaning against the balustrade of the balcony that led out of their shared bedroom. The night air was cool and refreshing, soothing what nervousness she still harbored after the terrifying events of the evening. He now covered the hand that was poised on the parapet and entwined his fingers against hers. The gesture was reassuring yet intimate, and when his lips gently caressed the side of her neck, she cocked her head, and he brushed away the strands falling down her shoulders, nuzzling the tender skin beneath her ear, then briefly nibbling her earlobe, sending shivers of anticipation through her body.
It had been so long since she’d had him, since they’d had each other, that she wondered if their brief union in Yury’s garden had been a dream, a fantasy, or reality after all? She couldn’t imagine being with another man, and yet couldn’t imagine being with Vitaly either. Not after all that had happened.
But then he slipped his hands around her waist and trailed them down her hips, and an involuntary shudder had her roll her head back so that it rested on his shoulder, and then she felt the deep fear that still lodged in her chest relaxing bit by bit, swayed by the comfort of his touch.
“I’ll never be an enforcer again, Joanna. I’ll never go back to my old life. There’s no need.”
“No need?” she whispered, not comprehending.
“Tatyana and Yana have decided to grant me a severance package. It is quite… substantial.”
His hands now moved up along her belly, then higher still until they were cupping her mounds, testing the weight in his large hands. She felt heat stir inside her belly at his touch.
“Suffice it to say I will never have to work again. With this money, I can take you away from here, and we can start life afresh.”
She snaked her hands back, until she could rake her fingers through his hair, then down to his stubbly face, all the hard planes and angles right there under her fingers, and then his hands slowly moved up her shirt until she was but naked skin glistening in the moonlight, and his hands covered her rising peaks.
“Where do you want to go, my love?” he whispered against her ear.
“Europe,” she murmured. “Take me to Paris—London—Rome—anywhere but here.”
“Anywhere,” he murmured. “Anywhere you like.”
He whirled her around in his arms and easily lifted her blouse over her head, his eyes feasting on her curves. She was gorgeous, he knew, but had never thought she could grow ever more lovely as time went on. As he lowered his mouth to press a hot kiss on her puckered nip, he breathed, “We’ll go to Paris for our wedding, London for the reception, and Rome for our honeymoon.”
As his lips continued their exploration of her satin skin, she shivered, and not from the cold this time. He easily slid her jeans over her hips, and then he was devouring her center, the lovely petals at the heart of her enticing and inviting, glistening in the pale light of the moon, whispering their invitation.
“Oh, Vitaly,” she gasped as his tongue entered her and sent shivers of delight racing up her spine. She held onto him for balance as she swayed, her head light and her mood giddy now. Then the words he’d spoken came home to her. “Did you say… wedding?”
Glancing up at her, his lips wet and his smile irresistible, he spoke words she’d never expected any man ever to speak to her again.
“Joanna Royale, will you do me the honor of becoming my bride?”
She squealed with surprised delight, and when he reared up and swept her off her feet, she cried out, “Yes, I do!” And as he gently placed her on the bed and she watched as he pulled his shirt over his head, his torso a mass of rippling muscle and bulging hardness, she gasped once again at the wonder that was Vitaly. He made short shrift of his pants and then he was upon her once again, this time claiming her with a voracity that took her breath away.
And as he eased his hardness into her softness, invading her body with a passion that sent her shuddering against the bed, balling the quilt beneath her fingers, his mouth found hers, and they were drinking each other in once again, eager to make their reacquaintance, to take up where they had left off.
And then he was inside her, rolling deeply between her folds, splaying her soft tenderness with his thick girth, his heat melting and mending the deep urges of her flesh, and as she raked her fingernails along the hard ridges of his back, she briefly lingered on the scar he’d sustained protecting her from harm, and she knew she loved him like she’d never loved before, perhaps like no woman had ever loved any man before in the history of the world.
“My love,” she gasped as he stirred the depths of her body and her soul. “My beloved enforcer.”
He groaned as he arched his back, rearing deeper inside her with every motion of his rolling hips, her belly roiling, and then she was slammed into oblivion, her body cresting over into the highest peak and she laughed ecstatically, the joy exploding the last vestiges of doubt and fear and heartache from her mind. She was his, now. His forever.
And as he flooded her womb with the hot seed of his loins, she welcomed the life flowing into her core—their love creating new life in the heart of her sex—two bodies vibrating in unison and celebrating their love.
She clung to him, and he clung to her, and she knew he would never let go. Would never leave her—never abandon her—never cease to love her, and she felt hot tears flood her face as his hot seed flooded her womb.
As they lay together, whispering words of love, he stroked her hair from her brow, and smiled as she gazed up at him, eyes brimming with tears of joy. “Time to forget about the past, my love,” he murmured. “Time to start anew.”
“Time to start a family,” she whispered, and when he smiled and looked at her with so much affection, she knew love had finally come into her life. And all was well.
ABOUT NIC
I’ve been writing ever since I could hold a pen, though not romance in particular. That stuff came later, much later. Over the years I’ve written mystery, thriller, action-adventure, children’s books, cat sleuth books and comedy, only to finally settle on what I like best: writing steamy (and not so steamy) romance fiction.
When I’m not tugging at the heartstrings, I enjoy doing yoga, watch a great movie, eat stuff (preferably tasty) or play with our big, fire engine red cat Tommy.
You can find me at my website, on Facebook or Twitter.
To be informed when a new book comes out, subscribe to my newsletter and get a FREE BOOK as a welcome gift!
LIST OF MY OTHER BOOKS
Russian Enforcers Series
Romance
Russian Enforcer’s Reluctant Bride
Standalone Novels
Romance
The Billionaire’s Valiant Rescue
Navy Seal’s Virgin Lover
The Pastor’s Jezebel Lover
Novellas
Romance
Blast From The Past
The Thornton Family Series
Dark Erotic Romance
A Billionaire Takes a Hard Line
A Billionaire Comes Down Hard
A Billionaire Makes a Hard Call
A Billionaire Does It The Hard Way
The Carswell Family Series
Kinky Erotic Romance
A Billionaire Invites
A Billionaire Punishes
Shorts
Erotica
Taken by… the Tax Man
Taken by… the Bounty Hunter
Seduced by the Wood Nymph
Excerpt from THE Billionaire’s Valiant Rescue
Chapter One
“Paris. I need to go to Paris.”
My teeth were chattering as I clung to my savior, muttering these words like some broken record.
He looked at me blankly and I didn’t blame him. If I’d just pulled a
total stranger from the river and she kept rambling on about Paris, I’d have directed a similar look at her myself.
“Just... lie back,” my valiant knight in shining armor said. “The ambulance will be here in just a minute.”
My eyes fluttered closed, then, but not before catching a glimpse of the man’s comforting half-smile and his azure eyes. They were the clearest blue, and for a moment I felt as if I were drowning yet again, only this time the sensation was exhilarating and not half as scary as when my body had broken the murky surface of the river.
“That’s it,” he murmured, rocking me gently in his lap. “Just relax. Everything’s fine now. Everything’s perfectly fine.”
When my eyes flashed open again, I gasped in shock. I was surrounded by darkness, and the man with the blue eyes was nowhere to be found. The faintest hint of a dream lingered at the edge of consciousness. Paris again.
“Where am I?” I whispered to no one in particular. “Where...”
Fighting a wave of nausea, I struggled to focus on my surroundings. Then it hit me. The smell of disinfectant. The white-washed walls. The exceedingly starched sheets. I was in the hospital.
I shifted my head to take in the rest of the room. I was alone, the other bed unoccupied, and through the curtainless windows I could see the full moon casting its pale light upon the world. I reached over to my nightstand in search of my valuables and was relieved when my hand touched my cell. My whole life was in that tiny piece of high-tech, and perhaps even a clue to who I was and what the hell I was doing here.
As consciousness returned, a million questions buzzed through my aching brain. Who was I? Where was I? And why the hell had my life suddenly taken a turn for the highly dramatic and ended up in an icy cold river?
For if there was one thing I knew, it was that this was so not me. I wasn’t a jumper, and even if I were, death by drowning would be the last thing I’d choose.
Suddenly the door to my room burst open, and an older woman stormed in. Her teary face broke into a relieved smile when she saw that I was awake.
“Melanie! Honey!” she cried, arms outstretched to bundle me up into an embrace. “I’m so glad you’re all right!”
Melanie? Really? Was that my name?
“Um, hi?” I said as my visitor slung her arms around me and pulled me into the vise-like circle.
“Oh, honey,” she sighed. “You have no idea how worried we were.”
We? Who was we?
“When we didn’t hear from you, we finally broke down and called the police. It took them hours to track you down.”
She finally released me and sat back, studying my face from behind thick glasses.
I gave her an embarrassed smile, trying to figure out a way to break the news to her gently that I didn’t know her from Adam. Or Eve. Turned out I didn’t have to. My lack of enthusiasm must have given me away, for she suddenly heaved a sob, and said, “What’s wrong? Don’t you recognize me?”
“Um, actually… no?”
For the second time, she broke into tears, and this time I was the one feeling compelled to tell her everything was going to be all right. Though I hardly believed it myself.
***
From behind a window looking into Melanie’s room, Jack Carter stood gazing upon the tearful reunion scene with a worried frown etched on his face. For some reason he couldn’t even begin to comprehend why he felt this protective of the young woman he’d saved from a watery grave mere hours before, and the tepid way she responded to the arrival of her mother filled him with confusion.
He stared at her hollow eyes as she greeted the woman who’d introduced herself as Linda Soakes. Melanie Harper, if that was indeed her name, looked emaciated and exhausted, and yet her natural beauty still shone through. Her wispy blond hair clung in tresses to her face, and her liquid brown eyes appeared dull and deadened, but he’d seen the determination and the life in those eyes, and knew her to be a fighter.
Though he hadn’t doubted the doctor’s assessment that she’d suffered a nasty blow to the head before ending up in the canal, he still nurtured a vague hope the medical man was mistaken.
Melanie Harper hadn’t merely stumbled into the river by accident. According to the physician she’d been hit over the head before being thrown in. Or, in a different interpretation of the facts, she had suffered the debilitating blow by violently hitting her head upon impact. Whatever the case, hers was obviously a matter for the police, and only through his intervention had the cop sent down to take her statement allowed the girl’s mother to go in first.
It obviously didn’t make much difference. Either mother and daughter enjoyed a very flawed relationship, evident by an absolute lack of warmth, or, worse, she didn’t even recognize her own mom.
The police officer cleared his throat. “Perhaps I can take your statement now, Carter. You say you saw Miss Harper flailing in the water? So you decided she was in trouble and jumped in to rescue her?”
“That’s right,” Jack said curtly.
“Can you tell me what you were doing down there?”
Jack looked over at the swarthy man and thought he detected a glint of malice in the burly police officer’s eye. It didn’t surprise him. Ever since the incident over a decade ago, Brussels’ finest didn’t exactly hold him in high esteem.
He shrugged off the building tension.
“I was taking my dog for a walk, like I always do at night. I live around the corner, as you probably know.”
The policeman merely nodded, his eyes fixed on him. “Any witnesses? Anyone to corroborate your story, Carter?”
Jack sighed inaudibly. He’d known the moment he called the cops they’d start busting his balls. “No. I was alone on the quay.”
“All alone, huh? Just you and miss Harper.”
Suddenly he felt anger flaring up inside of him. “Look, if you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask the girl. She’ll tell you what happened.”
The police officer’s lip curled up into a grin. Like most cops he lived to get a rise out of the people he detested, and there was no one cops hated more than Jack Carter.
“Sure thing, Carter. I’ll get right on it. But first tell me, what is your relationship with Melanie Harper?”
“We had no ‘relationship’. For Christ’s sakes, I never met the woman in my life.”
The policeman pursed his lips. “So you say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m lying to you?”
The cop’s dark eyes bored into his. “Yes, Carter. I think you’re full of shit.”
“Go to hell,” Jack snarled.
The cop laughed. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? Well, let me tell you that if anyone’s going to hell it’s you.” Jabbing his finger in Jack’s chest to accentuate his next words, the thickset officer growled, “You’re going down for this, Carter. You took advantage of this poor young woman and then dumped her when she turned on you.”
“What? That’s ridiculous!”
“Not so ridiculous to me, bub. And not so ridiculous to the judge.”
“Why would I save her and call 911 if I wanted her dead?”
The cop shook his head. “I don’t think you’re the one that saved her, Carter. I’m pretty sure some mystery man saved her and when the police finally showed up you found yourself with your ass in your hands and decided to play mister hero man.” He grinned. “You’re finally going down, Jack. And this time daddy won’t be around to save you.”
Jack felt a strong urge to slug the bastard but with extreme effort managed to restrain himself. Instead, he grunted, “Prove it, you son of a bitch.”
The cop gestured to Melanie. “Trust me. She will.”
Chapter TWO
“I don’t know what’s going on. I really don’t.” I buried my face in my hands and my shoulders slumped. The woman had finally revealed herself as Linda Soakes, and claimed to be my mother. As difficult as I found it, I had to confess neither the name nor the person rang a bell.
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“It’s fine, Miss Harper,” said the policeman. He’d been trying to get my version of what happened but since I absolutely didn’t remember a single thing until the blue-eyed man fished me out of the water, I felt I hadn’t been of much help.
I looked up. “So my name is Melanie Harper?”
“We’re still trying to get confirmation on that, Miss Harper, but according to your mother it is.”
“My mother,” I said feebly.
“That’s right. Mrs Soakes says you disappeared from your flat on Pelican Avenue three nights ago. Since you live by yourself, it took your family until this morning to find you missing and call us in. It was only when we did a routine follow-up on a hospital Jane Doe report that we made the connection.”
“Three days ago,” I repeated automatically. “Where have I been all this time?”
The police officer coughed. “The doctor assures me that nothing, erm, untoward has occurred, Miss Harper.”
I looked up sharply. “Untoward?”
The burly copper looked positively flustered. “Nothing of a, um, sexual nature, Miss.”
My eyes went wide. “Oh.”
“It’s one of the first things the doctors checked.”
“So you think... I was held all this time?”
“Too soon to tell.” The officer coughed again, then said, “Are you sure you don’t know Jack Carter?”
I shook my head adamantly. It was the third time the cop asked me the same question. “Never seen him before in my life. At least,” I quickly amended, “as far as I can remember.”
Like before, the cop looked disappointed. “Right. Of course.” With a deep sigh, he closed his tiny notebook and eased his rumpled bulk from the plastic hospital chair. “As soon as you remember something—anything—be sure to—”