“You don’t mind if we make a stop after lunch, do you?”
He shook his head. “No, why?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, I just have to go pick up another shipment of antiques from Customs, is all.”
Dmitry turned and faced her. “I thought that’s why you have an assistant.”
“I could never have her do it. The items inside are priceless. Besides, you never know when there might be a surprise in it.”
They had found three more unaccountable antiques in the last few shipments. Apparently, word had not reached Mother Russia that Mikhail was dead. She had no desire to inform them. Now, with each new shipment, she raced down to Customs full of excitement wondering what undiscovered treasures she would find.
“Besides,” she said, grinning at him. “I’ll need you to carry the box out. You know how those Customs boys are and I’m not wearing a shirt that displays my cleavage to its full potential.”
Dmitry’s gaze shifted down to the aforementioned cleavage. The answering heat told her he saw no problems with what she had. He leaned closer to her and said, “You keep talking like that, Mrs. Ivanova, and you won’t be getting lunch. Neither of us will be.”
She stroked his jaw with her index finger. She had kept with tradition and had taken the feminine counterpart of Dmitry’s name, wanting to be true to her adoptive country, blending his customs with her own. “Now you’re talking, Mr. Ivanov. I must say I’m rather hungry for something besides food,” she purred.
“Don’t you worry, you’ll get it,” he said in a husky voice, his gaze roaming her body and burning her skin.
Desire coursed through her body, arousing her. They’d been together for a while now and not once had the craving for each other dissipated. It had gotten stronger, the need to strip each other down and join more insistent. She’d thought the desire would lessen, but it had only intensified. Her mind had been mush the day after he’d first touched her and that hadn’t changed. Their lives meshed well together and their relationship was strong. For the first time in a long while, she was happy.
Dmitry gave her thigh a caress. If they didn’t get to their apartment soon, she was sure they’d be getting it on in the car in broad daylight. Come to think of it, that certainly had its appeal.
The usual twenty-five minute drive was cut down to nineteen as Dmitry pushed the speed limit. She’d made the decision to move into Dmitry’s apartment after they’d been married and made it her home since it was larger and the idea of moving all that computer equipment had daunted her. By the time they reached their apartment door, they were both ravenous. Dmitry opened the door and lifted her off her feet. He carried her into the apartment and across to the sofa.
***
Dmitry placed Carey gently on the cushion and without any finesse removed her pants and undergarments. Clothes went flying and within a minute the pair of them were naked. He hovered over her on the sofa, kissing her; pressing her into the cushion. She pushed him back until they were both on the floor. He placed her beneath him as he settled himself between her legs, teasing her nipples as she thrust them at him, arching her back. They’d long since learned the secrets of the other’s body and were determined to make each other squirm and moan until they came at the same time. He entered her in one swift motion, filling her completely. He stared down into her eyes, now smoky with passion as he moved inside her.
My wife.
He still couldn’t believe it. At first he had been worried that she would pull away from him. He had certainly sensed the distance between them just before their marriage and had felt fear unlike he’d ever known before, but then one day it was gone. Just like that. He guessed Elena had stepped in and settled any fears Carey might’ve had and he was eternally grateful. He had been determined to bind Carey to him for the rest of their lives but still sometimes he felt it was the other way around and he caught himself thinking that it was all a dream and prayed that when he woke he was wrong.
He had fallen completely head over heels with the woman and he hadn’t seen it coming. He hadn’t set out to find the woman he would spend the rest of his life with but there she was. Lucas had told him later that it had been the same for him. He hadn’t expected all those years ago when he went on assignment to Russia that he would find his wife there. He was extremely happy Carey had made up her mind early on in the relationship that she loved him and wanted to be with him. He remembered the eighteen months Lucas had waited for his sister and knew he would have gone stark raving mad waiting that long for Carey.
Her body tightened around him; her fingernails digging into his back. Her thighs tensed around his waist as he thrust into her, each time harder and faster and deeper then the one before. He could feel himself near completion and fought to maintain control, waiting to come when Carey did.
She tightened almost painfully around him as the little convulsions inside her started and he was lost. With one last thrust he poured himself into her while shouting her name. He rolled off her and pulled her close. His wife. His Carey. She placed her hand on his chest and began idly stroking him as she always did after they made love.
“So about Customs,” she started. He chuckled, rolling back onto her and taking possession of her mouth effectively cutting her off. His tongue lazily tangoed with hers.
“We should get there—” she continued as soon as her mouth was free. He rolled his eyes. The woman had a one track mind. Which was usually good as long as it was on him or sex. He moved his hands over her soft skin, his fingers dipping inside her sensitive body. She shuddered. He grinned at her as he aroused her once more, efficiently wiping her mind of everything except him and what he was doing to her.
Epilogue
One Year Later
George Washington University Hospital
Carey squeezed Dmitry’s hand with inhuman strength, crushing his fingers beneath her grip. He bit his bottom lip to keep from making a sound. Good man. He knew better than to complain.
She cried out. Once again her hand tightened around his as she tried to deal with the onslaught of pain. Her body felt like it was being ripped apart and her skin was flushed and hot to the touch. She screamed once more and tried to listen to the nurse, biting back the urge to snap. She didn’t want to be that woman.
One more push.
She was so tired, beyond exhausted, and knew she was almost finished.
Please, baby, just come now. Mommy needs her rest.
She gathered the last remaining bit of energy and pushed. The sound of a newborn crying filled the room. She collapsed back on the pillow behind her, perspiration coating her body. She had never felt so tired in her entire life. How did women do this two hundred years ago when it was normal to have ten or eleven children? She spared a moment to glare at her husband. If he thought she was doing this more than once or twice he had another thing coming.
He kissed her sweaty forehead, tears in his eyes as he stared down at her, pride evident on his face. He was one very happy man. Smiling, she said softly, “I love you.”
He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth, taking his time.
He replied as he straightened, “I love you too.”
The doctor interrupted them to say that they had a healthy baby boy and tears flowed freely. She had a boy, a beautiful baby boy. The nurse wrapped up her son and then brought him to her, placing him on her chest. She could feel the hot tears streaming down her cheeks.
He was so little.
She hiccupped. His beautiful blue eyes stared up at her. A knock at the door of the hospital room announced the arrival of his aunt, uncle, and cousin along with SAC James Fitzgibbon and his wife Maggie, who had both come to congratulate the happy couple.
Elena and Yvonne were first in the door. Yvonne perched on her mother’s hip. Both she and Lucas had been in the waiting room since her water had broken. Lucas followed behind his wife and daughter, the honorary flower and teddy bear holder. He placed the flowers on the side table along with th
e bear.
“Let me look at him,” Elena said before James and Maggie had even gotten through the door and held out her arms after placing Yvonne down gently on the bed beside her.
Carey carefully transferred her tiny son into his delighted auntie’s arms. Elena beamed down at him.
“He’s so gorgeous. Job well done. How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Oh, you know, tired but extremely content.”
Elena nodded. “So what are you going to name him?”
She and Dmitry swapped looks. They had toyed with many names, from Russian traditional to regular American names. It had taken some time before they had finally agreed.
“Luke,” Dmitry announced. “Lucas Nikolai. After the two men who made all this possible.”
“That, and you did come to our rescue at the museum that one time,” she said to Lucas.
Her brother-in-law rolled his eyes. “There were only three bad guys and Dmitry took out the boss. I just came in and dealt with the paperwork.”
Lucas had refused to take any credit for the events of that day, claiming he was merely an observer. Carey still thanked him, though, especially when it had come to dealing with Detective Harrington. He had saved her some major explaining and possible harassment from the detective.
“Four,” she said.
“What?”
Dmitry smiled at her. It had long been a standing joke between the three. Lucas never seemed to remember. “Four bad guys. You forgot Milo—again.”
***
Lucas rolled his eyes and took little Luke from Elena who practically thrust the baby into his arms. She had recently informed him that she would like another. Now. Since then he’d been working every possible moment to comply. Not that he was complaining.
What Dmitry said was true in a way. Had it not been for Nikolai, he and Elena would never have been able to stop the assassination attempt on both the Russian and American Presidents’ lives and clear their names. And if it hadn’t been for Lucas’s persistence with Elena, Carey and Dmitry might never have met and fallen in love, creating the adorable bundle resting peacefully in his arms.
He smiled, remembering the first day he had met Elena with her cool grey eyes and light brown hair. At that moment he had fallen in love with her and there hadn’t been anything he could have done to stop it. He’d been helpless, the decision never in his hands. He certainly hadn’t gone looking for her but there she was.
He thanked God every day that he’d gotten on that plane. Elena was the best thing that had ever happened to him and with Elena had come Yvonne and if he was honest, Dmitry. They were a family. He looked about the room, at the laughter and love, and knew he would never want it any other way.
Who’d have thought they would all end up here, after everything they’d been through? From having government agencies after their blood and friends they’d trusted betray them. To hacking top secret files and running from the Russian Mafiya. Finding ways to get past the horrible demises of loved ones and discovering one of the lost Imperial Fabergé eggs on top of it. It surprised him they’d made it, the odds insurmountable, but together they could overcome anything. Now they were all looking forward to settling down into normal lives for some much needed peace and quiet.
Now, what were the chances of that?
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Acknowledgments
Writing a novel can sometimes be like an uphill battle. I’m thankful for the ongoing support by the wonderful team at Limitless Publishing whose advice and experience has been invaluable. My writing has been taken to a new level and I’m always improving thanks to #TeamLimitless and my fabulous editor.
I’d also like to thank my readers and hope you enjoyed the conclusion of the Law Series. When I first started writing Russian Law it was meant to be a standalone novel and I had no idea of the world I’d be creating and just how much I’d love my characters.
Lastly, I wanted to shout out to family and friends who’ve helped me while writing and more importantly turbulent editing process and my parents for passing on this crazy creative brain of mine that continues to make up stories faster than I can jot them down.
About the Author
Camille Taylor is an Australian author who resides in the Nation’s Capital with her small dog. She was the typical 90’s kid and was raised on Goosebumps, Roald Dahl and Paul Jennings. In her teens she began reading the Queen of Crime, Agatha Christie and in later years found Christine Feehan, Janet Evanovich and Julie Garwood.
She started writing at sixteen and enjoys spending time with her family, doting on her nieces and nephews, writing the many stories floating about her head and working on her genealogy where she can trace her heritage to England, Scotland, Ireland and Russia.
Her other interests include, anything creative—such as scrapbooking and drawing and has travelled across Western Europe, New Zealand and the UAE, after spending a year living in London. She’s also dabbled in tae kwon do.
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/CamilleTaylorAuthor
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/CamilleTaylorAu
Website:
https://camilletaylorbooks.wordpress.com/
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7791241.Camille_Taylor
No Law (Law #3) Page 17