Deadly Games

by Clark, Jaycee

  His smile slid away, his eyes going cold. “I’m much worse, Mother.”

  With that, he walked into the kitchen and retrieved a fork.

  Rori had wondered, why, if they had the entire hotel, a restaurant . . . probably several, and room service at their disposal—why would they need the large kitchen in their apartment, and she bet all the other penthouse apartments had the same layout.

  “How’d the meeting go?” his mother asked.

  The edge of his mouth lifted but his eyes, as they shifted to Rori, were serious. “Fine.”

  A single word, yet she understood they’d discuss it later. Wonder what his dear boss had thought of her.

  She watched him open the container and scoop up a big bite for Darya. He said something to her in Russian as he fed her the enormous spoonful.

  Darya nodded just before her eyes shifted to Rori.

  She saw what he was doing and instinct had her tensing, ready to strike, but she waited, even as she knew.

  His hand, quick as a snake, whipped up and bopped a dollop of chocolate-drizzled whipped cream on her nose.

  His grin and Darya’s were infectious. She smiled, wiped it off, licked part of it off. His eyes watched her, the blue darkening.

  Her stomach tightened at the memory of their kiss, at the feel of his hands on her.

  She knew his parents watched them, but didn’t give a care.

  Holding her finger out to him, she said, “I’m really not into sweets, but thank you.”

  His eyes flashed, but he drew her finger into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue on her finger did things in her gut she didn’t want to think about.

  Rori jerked her finger back and said, “I think I’ll go to our room for a bit. I’m wiped.”

  She stood.

  Mrs. Kinncaid said, “Ian Rohnan Kinncaid, you are coming home.”

  Rohnan? Rori cocked a brow at him and tried to hide her grin.

  “Mother—”

  Kaitlyn’s green eyes flashed. “Don’t you ‘Mother’ me.” Her fist hit the table. “You owe me that at least.”

  His shoulders rose on his inhale and then he speared Rori with a look. He said something to Darya in Russian and locked his hand on Rori’s arm, propelling her out of the apartments and into the hallway.

  Down the hallway two doors, he shoved his key into the slot and all but kicked the door open.

  When it shut, he whirled. “We’re not going to my parents’ house.”

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered if this was what married couples did.

  Rori waited. He seemed a bit stressed to her, even if he appeared cool and calm. It was in the hard lines of his mouth, the way his eyes were narrowed. Then again, perhaps she was wrong.

  He rubbed his forehead and muttered something. She vaguely wondered if he got headaches like she often did when suddenly the reality of things crashed down on her.

  “You okay?”

  He sighed. “What am I supposed to say to her?”

  She walked to him and put her hands on his shoulders. They were hard as rocks under her hands, but still she squeezed and rubbed her thumbs in circular motions. “You need some rest.”

  He grunted and tilted his head to the side, giving her access to the tightened cords of his neck. They stood like that for several moments. “You ever get tired of what we do?” he asked softly.

  Her motions paused for a moment. Then she dug her thumbs back in. She started to give a blithe remark, but sensed she didn’t have to. “Sometimes, yes. I never really like what I do, but I also know it was and is necessary on more levels than the average person cares to reflect on.”

  “Ever think there’s any redemption for us?”

  “My, aren’t we philosophical tonight.” She sighed. “Would you sit on the couch?”

  He didn’t move. Soft and deep, he said, “I told my boss I was out. After this is over, I’m out.”

  She nodded and continued to massage his shoulders.

  He took a breath, as if to say something, then shook his head. “We can’t go to my parents’ house.”

  “Why not?”

  He whirled on her, his eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

  She crossed her arms and ran her gaze over him. He looked so bloody good in black she smiled.

  “I find nothing amusing in this situation.”

  Rori waited and then said, “You hadn’t planned on seeing them. They know you’re here now. On some level you knew they might learn of your arrival, or you never would have briefed me on everyone. Secondly, if you don’t go, it only raises more questions, especially if more find out about you. Three, if your cover is completely blown, do you think it matters if you’re with your family or not?”

  “By being too close to them, I make them targets.”

  “Simply being who you are makes them targets,” she said with brutal honesty. His face hardened.

  “I’m not putting them in danger. Damn it!” He shoved a hand through his hair and paced away from her, his hands fisted on his hips as he stopped near the window.

  She wondered what it was like to worry about so many people. The only person she worried about was Nikko, and she really needed to call him before he started his own search for her. She knew she had another day or so before he’d really start to worry.

  “Ian,” she said softly, standing her ground. “I don’t know what it’s like to have a family, let alone a large one that you feel you have to take care of and protect.” She watched him, his jacket caught behind his wrists, the late afternoon light slanting through the windows. “You’ve done a marvelous job so far. Little Ryan seems to think you’re a superhero.”

  He turned and the fire of those blue eyes burned her. “I’m not a goddamn hero.”

  He would never think so. In that moment, something shifted in her for him. She had no idea what, but she felt it. A man so bent on protection of those he loved.

  “Do you have any idea how many men would have even looked for that little girl? Who, if they had found her, would take her with them like you have?” His eyes didn’t move from her. “Not very many. Not all men are like you, or your brothers. You don’t want to endanger them. Fine, I understand that. But do you honestly think it matters now?”

  He didn’t say a word.

  She walked to him. “If they learn who you are, they will still target your family if for no other reason than to draw you out.” Without a thought, she reached out and placed her hand on his chest, felt the beat of his heart. “If you’re at their place, you can better keep an eye on them. You’ll know what to look for. They won’t.”

  His eyes didn’t soften, but the fire banked. “I don’t like it.”

  She nodded. “I know, and I don’t like your father, so we’ll both just have to live with it.”

  The intention flickered in his eyes as he leaned in and set his forehead against hers. “You know what I want?” he asked softly.

  She licked her lips. “I’m not giving you that.”

  He grinned slow and sure. “We’ll see, but I wasn’t talking about that, though I do think about it.” He paused and she wondered if he’d kiss her. Instead he continued. “I want a beach, little umbrella drinks. No worries.”

  “No hits?”

  “That too. You like the beach?”

  “Yes.” Deciding to give him something else to think about, she added, “But I don’t like tan lines.”

  Chapter 16

  November 14, 10:42 p.m.

  Ian brushed his finger over Darya’s tear-stained cheek. She’d cried herself back to sleep. He’d been talking to Rori in the living area, planning tomorrow, when her whimpered cries and screams had brought them both running.

  What did she see in her dreams? The nightmare she’d witnessed? More?

  She hadn’t said more than that one word since yesterday. Zoy. Her sister? Someone else?

  He took a deep breath and left the light on. She laid on her side, her purple pajamas with cats on them contrasting against
the white sheets. Her arm was thrown over her bear. He looked to the side, where a doll still sat in the box. She apparently just liked the bear.

  Ian leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, breathing her scent deep. “Dobroy nochi. Devochka moya.” Good night, my little girl.

  And by God, she would be. She already was.

  He had never thought of having kids, never thought of having a family. Families could be used against men like him for any number of things.

  But here, with this lost child clutching tight to the bear he’d given her, to see her eyes crying from phantoms that stalked her, to feel those little arms wrap around his neck.

  He wanted her. He wanted her to be his.

  “Sweet dreams.”

  He stood, double-checked the windows, and silently walked out of the room. Rori stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned on the door frame.

  Dressed in a white hotel robe, her long legs peeked at him where the terry cloth parted, one knee winking through. She seemed to be waiting on him.

  Without a word, he walked to her, and pulled the door almost to, but left it cracked.

  “She went to sleep easily enough,” she said. She rubbed her arms and added, “You’re really good with her, you know? She needs that right now.”

  Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her and ignored her stiffening. After a minute she sighed and wrapped her arms around him. “What the fuck are we doing?” she whispered against his neck, her breath warm.

  Ian could only shake his head. If he wanted, he could forget, just for a second, that this wasn’t real. That his wife, his daughter, his life, was just a façade. Like all the other times.

  “I can’t take her pain away, Rori,” he muttered.

  Her head shook against his neck and she squeezed him tighter. “Not immediately, no. But you will.”

  He tightened his arms for a minute then let her go, taking her hand in his and leading her back to the kitchen. For just a moment, he simply wished things were different.

  Ian got them both water and handed her a bottle.

  “Ready for tomorrow?” she asked, clearing her throat.

  He grunted and watched her, watched as she closed her mouth over the top of the bottle and took a drink, the muscles in her throat working. He remembered what she tasted like just there beneath her jaw, how soft the skin on her neck.

  “What?” she asked.

  He shook his head, set the water bottle on the counter and grabbed her hand, jerking her to him.

  Looking into those witch’s eyes, he said, “There’s a saying about temptations and once tasted.”

  “Is there?” she asked, cocking a brow. She relaxed and ran her hand up the front of his shirt.

  “Yeah, there is.” He kept his eyes open as he leaned in, licked her lips and watched her eyes widen.

  Her tongue darted out to tangle his. Her arms slid up his chest, wrapped around his neck as she leaned into him.

  Ian tilted his head and deepened the kiss, closing his eyes.

  Her scent, spicy and exotic, engulfed him. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her harder. Her teeth nipped his tongue, his lips, her laughter a faint vibration as he sighed.

  “I’ve wanted to do this to you since I first laid eyes on you scoping me out.”

  “Luv, if I was scoping you, you’d be dead.”

  He grinned and pulled back, looking into her eyes. “Do you realize we know the other’s darkest secrets and don’t give a bloody damn?”

  A shadow shifted in her eyes. “Darkest secrets are relative. What’s bad to one isn’t to another.”

  “What’s that mean?” He started to lean back.

  “You kill, I kill, we do our jobs and go on.” She grabbed his head and kissed him, her teeth and lips coaxing his own. “I don’t want to talk about our bleeding jobs right now.”

  He kissed her back, his hands unknotting the belt holding her robe together. She gasped as he simply spanned her waist, the muscles tight beneath his hands. He wanted more. He wanted all.

  “What do you want to talk about?” he asked her, his hands gently squeezing on her hipbones.

  She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, her eyes on his. “I don’t want to talk at all.”

  His eyes darkened, and he breathed deep.

  Without another word, he picked her up and set her on the countertop.

  He should probably ask her if . . .

  She grabbed his head between her hands and jerked him to her. “Are you as good a lover as you are at everything else?”

  He pulled the collar of her robe off one shoulder and bit the side of her neck. “Care to find out?”

  She hissed when his other hand gently raked across her belly. “Are you going to talk all damn night? I’m not really a . . . aaahhhh.”

  He licked her ear, his hand reaching up to barely graze the undersides of her breasts with his thumb.

  She leaned back and looked at him. “You know, Darya could wake up at any moment.”

  He looked at her. “True. But I want to enjoy this.”

  She hooked her heels in the small of his back, and he felt her heat even through his clothing and her robe. “You take too long to enjoy this and neither of us will even get to experience this.”

  Her eyes dared him.

  He’d rarely passed up a dare. Grabbing her ass, her legs still hooked around him, he easily carried her into the bedroom. He’d slept out on the couch last night, but tonight . . .

  He kicked the door shut and turned, trapping her against the side of it.

  “Bloody hurry.”

  He kissed her hot and openmouthed. “I don’t want to bloody hurry.”

  *****

  Miami, Florida

  Alla Gregary stood on the sidewalk of her hotel. The heels on her feet were killers, but they made her legs look even better than normal. Her short tight dress, the color of the sunset, only complimented her tan.

  She ignored one man, smiled at another as she waited on a cab.

  The doorman motioned with his finger just as another pulled to the curb.

  Tonight she was going out. She’d kept a low profile thus far. Her beautiful house in Kladno had been bombed. Damn bosses. But then Alla Gregary wouldn’t really worry about such things, would she? Elianya Hellinski would, but no one could find her.

  Alla smiled. Changing identities was so easy. More easy than she would have thought.

  One man whistled as he passed her.

  She licked her lips and stared at him until the woman on his arm jerked his attention back around.

  All men. She really had no use for men. She simply wanted to control them.

  Climbing into the cab, she told the driver where she wanted to go.

  She pulled her silver cell from her small black evening bag. She dialed the numbers and waited. Finally the voice on the other end answered.

  “It’s me,” she said.

  Her contact said, “Where are you?”

  Alla laughed. “Like I would tell you that.”

  “I need to know. Things are going to hell faster than anyone can guess.”

  She purred, “Are they really? That’s too bad. No?” She didn’t care what was happening.

  “I need—” the contact started.

  Alla interrupted. “I need.”

  “Don’t you always?” the voice snapped.

  Alla laughed, throaty and husky as she always had, and noticed the driver glance at her and run his gaze to her advertised cleavage. Men were so easy.

  “I want a name.”

  The silence on the other end went on so long she thought the contact had hung up.

  “Are you still there?”

  “Yes.” A sigh. “What name?”

  “Petrolov’s.”

  The voice hissed, “I’ve given you his aliases.”

  “Exactly. I want his name.”

  No answer.

  “If you don’t, it’ll only take one phone call and your life will come cr
ashing down,” she said into the phone.

  “Fine. But he’s being taken care of. The plan is for tomorrow.”

  Alla thought about it. She really wanted that bastard. He’d ruined everything for her and had always treated her with disdain. A saint who played the sinner.

  “Just in case you . . . aren’t successful, I want a name.”

  The driver was watching her too closely. She ran a finger down her breasts, down her torso.

  His eyes widened and she laughed when he almost hit the car in front of them.

  Another sigh.

  “One call,” she threatened.

  “Fine. Ian. Kinncaid. His real name is Ian Kinncaid.”

  The line went dead.

  Alla smiled.

  *****

  Washington, D.C.

  Rori took a deep breath. Please don’t let him stop. She wasn’t deluding herself. She knew this wasn’t some big act of the L word on his part. Or it was, but of lust.

  His hands, those long-fingered hands . . .

  Her head hit the door as she leaned back. His mouth nipped at her neck. He lifted her higher and licked a line on her breasts.

  She took a deep breath and speared her fingers in his hair.

  “We’re mad, barking mad.”

  He chuckled, the gravelly sound vibrating against her chest.

  When his mouth closed over her breast, she arched into him. God, the pull, straight to her gut, a lust-tipped bullet that rocketed her libido.

  “Hurry,” she said to him.

  He lifted his eyes and she watched him as he licked at her. Then he trailed wet kisses over to her other breast, all the while watching her.

  She licked her lips. “We don’t have time to dilly-dally.”

  He chuckled again. “Oh, we’re going to dilly-dally.”

  She rocked her hips against him.

  He paused, frowning. “I don’t have a condom.”

  No. She took a deep groaning breath then said, “I’m clean. Are you?”

  He nodded. “Hell, yes. Where I worked, I was too selective.”

  “When was the last time you slept with anyone?” she asked him.

  He thought, frowned. “Several months ago. Some college chick.”