“Hey, daydreamer, get your ass down here.” Jaya looked down at the pool where her two best friends were laughing and waving at her. She waved back and assured them she’d be down in a minute.
Ndari and Katie had taken to each other like ducks to water. They were two very confident women with a taste for the finer things in life. After a little bit of circling and sizing, they’d finally settled on the side of becoming instant friends that air kissed and Snapchatted their exploits every few hours. An amused Jaya had instantly hacked their Snapchats and added a beagle in sunglasses and a santa hat to every picture. They could usually be found arguing which princess from which country had the best crown jewels, and which online store they would raid next with Ivan’s credit card. Though both Katie and Jaya had plenty of their own money, it was agreed that Ivan’s credit card had the best likelihood of being unlimited. Though no one had proved it yet.
There had been some tension between Katie and Ivan upon Katie’s arrival, though it was completely on Katie’s side as Ivan was cool as always at meeting the former protégé he’d given up to get his hands on Jaya. Sensing the tension between his lovely wife and a very powerful international crime lord, Katie’s husband, Roman Valdez, had immediately stepped in. Silent, tense, angry, and tattooed from head to foot, Roman was the epitome of every badass gangster Mexican movie villain rolled into one. Jaya was in awe and possibly might have been a little in lust if she weren’t so totally enthralled by her own badass antihero.
Jaya had stepped in and broken the tension by throwing her arms around Katie, hugging her tight and exclaiming over how beautiful the tall blond was. They’d never actually met in real life, though Jaya had, of course, seen Katie many times over surveillance. Katie had never set eyes on Jaya before, hadn’t even known the real name of the hacker genius that had helped her time and again through her many heists. So the two women had plenty to catch up on. Once this was pointed out to her, she was happy to leave the room with an excitedly chattering Jaya, throwing one last pointed glare over her shoulder at Ivan.
Jaya rifled through her drawer coming up with a black one-piece bathing suit. She grinned as she held it up, then tossed it on the bed, quickly disrobing. Once she was dressed in the bathing suit, she stood in front of the mirror. “Well, he insisted no bikinis. He wasn’t super specific otherwise.” She shrugged, a gleam of mischief in her eyes as she surveyed the deep plunge of material that ran all the way down to her belly button. The sides were held up by a thin see-through mesh. She pulled on a long, silky robe and bent over to kiss Haty’s soft head where she was slumbering upside down on Ivan’s pillow. The cat stretched out a paw, purr-meowed, yawned and went back to sleep. Then Jaya left the suite to join her friends.
“Hey, bout time you joined us, lazy bones,” Ndari sent a wave of water slicing toward Jaya as she walked toward the pool.
Laughing, she dropped her robe on the nearest lounger. It had taken some work, but she was now able to spend time at the pool without thinking about that awful day when Borjan’s men shot up the pool area. It helped that Ivan had the entire area renovated to look completely different and insisted it be done shortly after their arrival from Bangkok. Ndari had also dragged her outside almost daily, insisting she spend time in the sun, socializing and learning how to swim with her wacky friend as a tutor.
“Do you think Katie should try stealing my princess tiara?” Ndaria asked, swimming to the edge of the pool and pressing herself against the ledge, leaning her arms on the warm pool tiles, her breasts swelling over top as she bobbed up and down in the water. A quick glance to the side confirmed that Keane was on duty near the balcony perimeter. His eyes were glued to the trio, or more specifically, the princess. “I don’t mean one of the tiaras I’ve picked up in a jewelry store, but the real deal. My crown jewel. The thing that makes me a princess.”
Jaya laughed. “A tiara isn’t what makes you a princess!”
Ndari rolled her eyes. “Well obviously it was the accident of birth thing, but in the mean time, the tiara is pretty freaking awesome, why wouldn’t Miss Blond-thing stick-up-her-ass want to steal my tiara? She’s stolen everything else of value in this place.”
“Okay…!” Katie started, lunging toward Ndari, clearly intent on doing some damage.
“Is there a problem here?”
Jaya twisted around at the deep voice, Katie and Ndari stopped their pool sparring match. Roman Valdez, tanned Mexican God, strode up to the pool, his eyes on his wife.
Katie swam immediately for the edge and lifted her arms. “Roman.” Her voice was breathless, her eyes hot with longing, room for no one but her husband. Heedless of the water dripping from his wife, Roman reached for her, placing his hands beneath her armpits and lifting her from the pool. Jaya and Ndari stared in fascination as Roman kissed Katie, uncaring of their audience. She pressed herself against him and, when he finally released her lips, whispered, “No problem here, baby.”
“Jaya.”
The spell was broken, Jaya blinked and turned to look at Ivan. He wasn’t looking at Roman and Katie. His gaze was on her. Though his eyes were grey: steel, silvery, light… they also held such unreachable darkness. She didn’t know if it was the tragedy that befell his family or if this was just Ivan. But there was always going to be a part of him she couldn’t reach, couldn’t know. She would just have to be comforted by the thought that he knew her. He could reach her, he knew how to touch her heart.
“I love you,” she whispered knowing he was too far away to hear.
He strode toward her, reaching for her robe and picking it up off the lounger as he approached. He opened it over her shoulders, covering the bathing suit she’d known he wouldn’t approve of when she bought it. He bent to capture her lips in a lingering kiss, then wrapped his arms around her waist, trapping her against his hard chest. She lifted her hands to hold on to him, clinging to his solid frame.
“I love you too, Jaya. My Victory,” he said huskily and reached to bring her hand forward, pressing his lips against the ring on her finger. The same ring they had found together in the Tiffany’s store before Jaya had tried to escape. Sometimes she wondered if he’d given it to her both as gesture of his love and a promise that he would always find her.
Her gaze flicked up and she nearly stepped away from him. Though his voice was soft and gentle, his eyes told a different story. One of darkness. One of a man that had done anything and everything to attain his position of power. A man that knew how to hold on to what he valued. Ivan would always come for her; no matter where she was taken, where she fled.
He would never let her go. Especially now that he had her love.
THE END
Acknowledgments
Dear readers,
Thank you for reading Capturing Victory! I would like to thank my lovely editor for always pushing me to work harder, sharpen my skills and for challenging me to do better. I also want to thank my favourite cover artist for not only creating the best covers in the business, but for throwing a few teasers and banners my way as well.
A very special thank you to the amazing readers that generously give their time for free to help me organize my releases and spread the word about my books. In particular, I would like to thank Sansa, Kimberly, Kristi and Barbie. There are many others as well that show their support in other ways, including conversations and kind words. It means the world to me and helps me continue on this dark and twisty romantic writing path.
Thank you again for reading,
Love Nikita
Excerpt: Driven by Desire, Book 1 of Driven Hearts
“Fuck,” Riley grumbled, twisting to make sure she was correct. Nope, she didn't have the right tool.
It was late at night and all the guys had gone home so she couldn’t call out to one of the other mechanics and ask them to hand it to her. Damn. With an aggrieved sigh, she pushed herself out from under the car. Shoving her long ponytail out of the way, she crawled toward the toolbox and rifled through until she found what she
was looking for. Loud, thumping music filled the garage from where her iPhone was plugged into its port on top of one of the tool benches.
Turning back toward the ‘69 Camaro, Riley adjusted her lamp and prepared to slide back under. This baby was a thing of beauty. It called to her from the moment it entered her shop, which is why she was still working on it at 2:00am. If she did it up right she’d be able to turn a pretty profit on this little sweetheart and take Cilia on vacation. They desperately needed some bonding time.
The music switched off and a deep voice reverberated through the darkness of the garage. “I’m looking for Mr. Bancroft.”
Riley froze for a few precious seconds before her head snapped up, judging the distance between a shadowed man and the gun in her toolbox. He stepped forward into the circle of her light, closing the distance between them. Riley’s heart slammed against her ribs as his face became visible and she recognized the most ruthless man in the city. Soloman Hart, mafia kingpin, was standing in her garage, staring down at her with cold intent. He now stood directly between her and her gun. Not that she thought it would do any good against a man like him.
Riley felt incredibly small and grimy next to his large, well-dressed frame. She sat crouched on the concrete beneath him, wearing her usual tank top and grimy, oil-stained overalls with the top left to hang down. Her shiny, dark brown hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she wore no make-up.
He seemed to be looking her over, taking in every inch of her with interest. Her eyes narrowed in return. She was used to guys staring. She was a thirty-year-old female mechanic, working in a garage full of men. She looked younger than she was and knew she was attractive. Definitely fantasy material for some guys. Which is why she tended to work in the office and on cars in the back, well away from the clients. Very few people knew who actually owned the garage.
“How did you get in here?” she demanded, pushing herself up and standing to her full height, which was still several inches shorter than him. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him. She had a damn good security system or she wouldn’t have been alone in the shop blaring music in the middle of the night.
He ignored her question and raised a dark, thick brow. “Mr. Bancroft?” The single question sent a chill down her spine, letting her know that the next words out of her mouth better be an answer, because Soloman Hart was not a man known for patience.
Riley pressed her lips together for a moment and wondered how best to answer him. The truth of ‘Mr. Bancroft’ was complicated. And Riley was starting to suspect she may be in some danger. The likelihood of a man of this caliber showing up in her garage for any reason was slim. Which meant something not good was going down. Soloman had men to deal with his car issues, he didn’t deal with things like this himself.
She moistened her lips and then stopped when his sharp eyes followed the movement. Taking a breath, she said, “Mr. Bancroft is dead. He died two years ago.”
His brows drew together in a frown that made Riley shiver from head to toe. Yeah, he didn’t want to play games with her. His next words confirmed this thought.
“Don’t fuck with me, little girl,” he growled. “Everyone knows Alan Bancroft is dead. I’m looking for the owner of this garage. Alan’s son, Riley Bancroft.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Why are you looking for Riley?”
Holy shit, she was going to die! The look on his face suggested that the last person that questioned him instead of instantly giving him the answers he was searching for had died a really extra terrible death.
Surprisingly, he answered, his deep voice clipped as he spoke. “Someone stole one of my vehicles yesterday. It was my favourite and I want it back. Thought it might show up here.”
Shock flickered across her face. Who would be stupid enough to steal one of Soloman Hart’s cars? Well, that explained why he would show up on her doorstep himself at 2:00am looking for answers. She ran the biggest chop shop in the city. Only very few people knew she ran the garage. She had a very good team of mechanics, mostly inherited from her father, that helped keep her safe behind the scenes. Few people even knew the name Riley Bancroft. Except, somehow Soloman did.
“Wh-what kind of car?” She asked hesitantly, hoping like hell it hadn’t gone through her shop. She usually did her homework and found out where the vehicles came from so this kind of shitstorm didn’t come down on her head, but that didn’t mean things didn’t get under her radar once in a while.
“Koenigsegg Regera.” His voice held no inflection as he named one of the most expensive vehicles in the world. A car that would be one of a kind in the United States.
Riley took a few seconds out from her terror to be impressed. Damn. Soloman must like him some nice luxury racing automobiles. Too bad the man was such a cold-hearted, ruthless bastard. Under different circumstances she wouldn’t mind getting under the hoods of his fleet, see what he had going on up in there.
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Nope, I definitely would’ve noticed one of those. Never even seen one in person, let alone had one in here.”
He nodded, still studying her carefully as though taking in every minuscule expression that crossed her face. Finally, he said, “I’d still like to have a conversation with Mr. Bancroft.”
Fuck. That was going to be a problem since there was no Mr. Bancroft. Instead, she nodded her head.
“Sure, no problem. I’ll have him call you tomorrow.” She’d get one of the other mechanics to call and reassure him that his car was never there and if it showed up he would be the first person they called.
He reached out and took her hand before she realized what he was about to do. He held her fingers in a grip that told her she shouldn’t pull away from him. He had tattoos over his hand and knuckles. He looked down at the black, chipped nail polish and rubbed his broad thumb over the tops of her much smaller nails. She shivered at his touch. Based on his reputation and the few glimpses she’d had of him she’d always considered Soloman Hart cold, but his hand was surprisingly warm.
“What’s your name?” he demanded, his voice deep and compelling.
Riley tried to pull her hand away, but he continued to hold her. She turned her body away and said in a haughty voice, “None of your business.”
He stiffened next to her and she bit her lip, worried that she was about to find out what made this powerful man so feared among their underworld set. He chuckled lightly, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I think you’ll find I can make it my business.”
She shivered and dropped her eyes, still refusing to answer. She did not want this man finding out who she was. For more reasons that the obvious. When he was alive, Alan Bancroft had taught Riley everything he knew, but he’d kept her existence on the down low in case they ever needed to pack up shop and run. There was also the complication of her mother. Cilia Bancroft, shady accountant to the super rich, was a handful and best kept out of the notice of men like Soloman Hart.
“You can fly, little bird,” he said quietly. He looked down at her, capturing her brown eyes with his bottomless dark eyes. “I will let you go for now.”
“F-for now?” Riley asked hesitantly.
He released her hand and stepped closer, towering over her, his chest nearly brushing hers. Riley gasped at his unexpected movement and tried to move back. Her leg bumped against the car she’d been working on and she was forced to stand still next to him. Her head swam as his subtle, masculine scent enveloped her. It made alarm bells go off in her head. He didn’t immediately move away from her.
“For now,” he confirmed. “I think the day will come that we will see… a lot more of each other.”
Her mouth opened and she stared at him. Was that a threat? He was looking down at her with something she couldn’t entirely define. Speculation? Possessiveness? But how was that possible? He didn’t even know her. Though she’d seen him before, they were just meeting officially for the first time.
His eyes brushed over her one last tim
e and she had a keen awareness that she was being granted some kind of reprieve. But it came with a time limit. One that would eventually run out. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked.
She blinked and then nodded slowly.
“Say my name,” he demanded.
Riley gaped up at him for a moment and then, desperately wanting the dark man to leave, she gave him what he wanted. She licked her lips and whispered, “Soloman.”
He turned and strode away from her, resetting the alarm before leaving the garage.
Soloman slid into the passenger side of his second favourite vehicle. Turning to his friend and bodyguard, he said, “Did you catch that?”
Roman nodded. He had been standing in the shadows near the door where he’d disabled the alarm and unbolted the lock to allow his boss entry to the garage. Though Soloman didn’t need back up, the two rarely worked separately, especially since Soloman’s climb to the top had earned many enemies. Both knew it was better to have a loyal man guarding each other’s backs than to go it alone.
“I want her,” Soloman said quietly, not taking his eyes off the passing street lights.
Roman grunted, but didn’t say anything. He already knew. The boss rarely pursued women, beyond having them brought in for a quick fuck. That he even asked for this one’s name was surprising. “I’ll find out who she is.”
Soloman nodded. “I want to know everything. There’s something about her… I think I might keep her for a while.”
Roman grunted. He’d get their information guy out of bed and working on the problem of the chick immediately. Find out who she was so the boss could get laid. Soloman Hart wasn’t used to being denied. No one needed to be around the man when he wasn’t happy. Much better to just bring him the woman’s information and then the woman herself all wrapped up and tied in a bow. Fewer people would die that way.
Capturing Victory (Driven Hearts Book 3) Page 27