The sooner he got the two of them away from here, the better it would be for everyone.
Most especially Lena, whom he would ensure never had to see him again once they were safely back in England.
When Lena woke again, it was to the full light of morning. As she lifted her arms above the covers and stretched, she could feel every muscle in her body aching. A blush warmed her cheeks as she remembered why that was.
Caleb.
She glanced quickly at the other side of the huge bed, frowning when she saw there was an indentation in the pillow, but the bed was empty apart from herself.
Where could Caleb have gone?
Was he downstairs with Spiro, the two men laughing together at how easily she had capitulated to Dmitri Volkov last night? She had no doubt that Dmitri would crow about his success, but would Caleb?
Her heart had ached for Caleb when she woke in the night and realized he was completely trapped in memories of the physical and emotional abuse he had suffered in Afghanistan. She had so wanted to be the one to comfort him then. To make love with him again.
Caleb, not Dmitri, had rejected her and turned his back on her.
Because this was just an act for him, she reminded herself heavily. Caleb playing the role of Dmitri Volkov, and taking what he wanted.
Except Caleb hadn’t needed to make it so good for her. So much so, she had forgotten everything but the two of them together. She had never felt that connection with any man before Caleb. Body, heart, and soul. A connection he had seemed to share, so that any idea of acting their way through having sex together had fled the moment Caleb kissed and laved her breasts with his mouth and tongue.
Her gaze sharpened as she saw a movement on the other side of the closed glass doors that opened out on the balcony.
Caleb.
He was dressed only in a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants that rested low on his hips, the morning sun reflecting on every silvery scar of his bared back.
The outer, visible scars of his torture.
Because she now knew Caleb kept even darker demons hidden inside him. Demons that broke free during the hours of vulnerability when he was sleeping. Hurting him. Haunting him.
Lena slipped out of the bed to pick up Caleb’s dress shirt and pull it on, her fingers shaking slightly as she fastened the buttons down the front. Spiro had provided day clothes for her to wear during Volkov’s visit too, but they were in the bedroom she had been given farther down the hallway. She wanted to talk to Caleb now, before he had a chance to disappear into his role as the cold-blooded killer Dmitri Volkov.
The shirt was far too big for her, of course, and reached down to mid-thigh, hanging off her shoulders and requiring she turn back the long sleeves. But it was cover enough. After all, Caleb had seen all of her naked the previous evening. Had touched and caressed, claimed every naked inch of her.
“Hi.”
Caleb released his tight grip on the balcony rail to turn sharply at the husky sound of Lena’s voice. His eyes narrowed as he took in her appearance. He was pretty sure his white dress shirt had never looked that good or sexy on him.
Her hair shone more red than brown in the sunlight, a cascade of auburn curls tumbling down the slender length of her spine. Her face was still pale, and her lips were trembling slightly, her eyes shadowed as she returned his gaze. If anything, she looked even more tired than she had yesterday, those dark circles having deepened beneath her eyes.
Because of last night. Because Caleb had made love to her. Before subjecting her to one of his PTSD episodes.
As predicted, Caleb hadn’t been able to fall asleep. Lena probably hadn’t dared to fall asleep again either, terrified he was going to have another attack and possibly strangle her in her sleep.
Lena knew now he was damaged goods. Not to be trusted.
“Shut the door,” he instructed evenly, waiting until she had done so and joined him at the metal railing facing out before speaking again. “There’s one camera out here on the wall behind us, and no listening devices, so as long as we keep the body language neutral, we can talk freely.”
“Last night—”
“We can talk about anything except last night,” he grated, fingers tightening on the metal of the balcony railing, his narrowed gaze fixed on the helo pad half a mile or so away from the villa.
Two helos had arrived about five minutes ago. It was the noise of their engines as they circled the island before landing that had woken him from the light sleep he’d half drifted into. By the time he pulled on loose pants and stepped out onto the balcony, both helos had landed. Two of Dukakis’s SUVs waited to transport the passengers to the villa. Four people stepped down from each of the helos, but they were too far away for Caleb to know any more except that they were all male.
As far as Caleb was concerned, their unexpected arrival—unexpected by Caleb and Lena, at least—did not bode well for the two of them.
It could be the buyer Dukakis had mentioned last night. Meaning the man may have come to transport Lena off the island.
Or it could be a rival for Dmitri Volkov’s proposed position as Dukakis’s agent in the UK. Caleb wouldn’t put it past the other man to pit the two rivals against each other in order to make himself a better deal.
Whatever the explanation, Caleb needed to go downstairs, alone, and find out what the hell was going on.
He should have known that, once he’d explained the new situation to Lena, she would insist on accompanying him downstairs. “The answer is no.”
“And you expect me to just accept that, do you?” She raised mocking brows.
Caleb breathed through his impatience with her stubbornness. “We have no idea who these men are, let alone what they’re doing here.” And if they were more associates of Spiro’s, then Caleb now had eighteen bodyguards as well as Spiro and his lover to evade so they could make their escape. The odds were narrowing exponentially against that ever happening.
“Then I would think it’s safer if the two of us stick together,” Lena reasoned. “Rather than you going downstairs alone and leaving me up here, also alone.”
Practically, Caleb knew Lena was right. Emotionally, he couldn’t bear the thought of one of the new arrivals being the man who intended to buy her and take her off the island. Wanting her to stay hidden upstairs, safe, at least for the moment, was a purely protective reflex on Caleb’s part.
He might sound a little more forceful in his protest if he wasn’t so distracted by how sexy Lena looked in his dress shirt.
She’d left three of the buttons unfastened at the top, giving him a glimpse of the swell at the top of her breasts. Her rose-colored nipples were visible against the white silk. As was the dark patch of hair between her thighs. Her legs were silky, and completely bare from mid-thigh down.
What the hell had he been thinking when he turned down her suggestion they make love again during the night?
He had been acting responsibly, that’s what he’d been doing. He’d just had a PTSD episode, damn it. Lena’s offer had been as a direct result of that attack.
The lovemaking that had preceded it had been incredible.
Mind-blowing.
Oh, he knew it was purely a need on Lena’s part, to connect to another human being, to feel again after months of solitude. It was lucky for Caleb he happened to have been that human being.
He certainly hadn’t needed her to return the favor by offering him a pity fuck in the middle of the night.
His mouth thinned. “I need you to trust me awhile longer. Let me see who these men are before you meet them.”
“No.” Lena was adamant. “Where you go, I go, and that’s an end to the subject.”
He frowned ruefully. “Have you always been this stubborn?”
“Probably,” she answered without apology.
“No wonder Dukakis had such a problem with you.”
“Lucky that he did, or I would have been long gone from here by the time anyone thought of rescuing me!”
Caleb reached out to lightly grasp her shoulders. “I’ve done nothing but think about rescuing you for three months, damn it. I’ve been searching for you all that time, followed every fucking lead there was, no matter how tenuous.”
Guilty color warmed Lena’s cheeks. She knew she was being unfair. Caleb hadn’t just stumbled onto her presence on the island, he had searched until he found her. It must have taken him weeks to set himself up with the Dmitri Volkov persona too.
She was grouchy and slightly out of sorts this morning from lack of sleep and the memory of last night’s lovemaking. The chasm that seemed to have opened up between herself and Caleb during the night certainly wasn’t helping. She had no idea why it had even happened.
Their lovemaking had been off the charts. So good she still blushed to remember Caleb’s mouth on her, lapping from her pussy, pleasuring her until she came. Then the way she had been the one to take his cock inside her and ride them both to completion.
Just hours later, he had not only refused her offer of more lovemaking, but he had also turned his back on her before falling back to sleep.
That hurt.
Out of everything that had happened to her the past three months, Caleb’s rejection of her during the night had possibly hurt the most.
She avoided meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. But it doesn’t change the fact I’m not staying up here while you go downstairs,” she added determinedly. “And if Spiro is preoccupied with visitors, then we may be able to escape for that walk you mentioned last night. Which means there are now three helicopters available for us to steal.”
Again, Caleb couldn’t argue with her logic. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. What he did want was to spend as much time with Lena as he could before he had to say good-bye to her and allow her to return to her own life. A life that didn’t include him.
“Okay,” he conceded abruptly. “Go to your room and get showered and dressed, and I’ll meet you at the top of the stairs in fifteen minutes.” His bedroom reeked of their shared sexual release, hers as well as his. They both needed a shower before seeing and being with anyone else.
Whatever he had expected, when the two of them went downstairs and followed the murmur of voices into the lounge, it certainly hadn’t been to come face-to-face with a man he knew.
A man who knew him as Caleb Knight and not Dmitri Volkov.
Chapter 8
Lena heard Caleb’s sharp intake of breath as he stood beside her. She turned to give him a searching glance as he stared at the tall, dark-haired man standing across the room talking to Spiro.
The newcomer wore an expensive, tailored charcoal suit over a pale green silk shirt and matching gray-and-green-striped tie. Standing a little behind him were four men wearing dark suits and wrap-around sunglasses, all of them armed with shoulder holsters. More bodyguards, Lena recognized disgustedly.
“Ah, there you are.” Spiro turned to smile at Lena and Caleb as they entered the room. “Let me introduce you. Magdalena Roig, Prince Alexandre of Androcco.”
Prince Alexandre of Androcco? The ruler of an island principality in the Mediterranean, and known as the playboy prince until his marriage.
She checked him out. Tall, dark, and very handsome.
Yes, it was definitely him.
How on earth did a man like Spiro know someone like Prince Alexandre of Androcco?
And why had Caleb drawn his breath in so sharply the moment he saw who Spiro’s visitor was?
Did he know the prince?
How was that even possible?
But if the two men did know each other, did the prince know him as Caleb or Dmitri?
“Your Highness, this is my other guest, Dmitri Volkov.” Spiro continued to make the introductions.
“Miss Roig. Mr. Volkov.” The prince nodded but made no attempt to shake either of them by the hand.
Maybe because they were a little underdressed for meeting a real live ruling prince!
Lena was now wearing a casual white T-shirt and low-rider jeans. Caleb looked somewhat smarter in a white shirt unbuttoned at the throat, and tailored black trousers. His hair was tied back at his nape with a leather strip.
It made Lena feel weak at the knees to look at him.
To others, he probably looked what he was pretending to be, Russian Bratva.
She wasn’t surprised that no one made any effort to introduce the four silent men standing at the back of the room. She had learned from observing Spiro that bodyguards were to be seen and not necessarily heard. Unless he wanted to put the fear of God into someone, like he had her yesterday.
Even so, it was slightly unnerving being in a room with seven men, nine if she counted Spiro’s two bodyguards standing outside in the hallway. Only two of those men had spoken so far, Spiro and the prince. Caleb remained strangely silent as he stood tense and unmoving beside her.
“I believe we have met before, Mr. Volkov?” the prince drawled, his voice a mixture of amusement and challenge.
“Oh?” Caleb glared his displeasure, knowing Alexandre was enjoying toying with him. Bastard.
“Were you not a guest at my wedding?”
Fucking bastard.
Someone was enjoying themselves just a little too much at Caleb’s expense. And he had a sick feeling he knew exactly who that someone or someones were.
As he knew there was also the distinct possibility those same someones were going to kick his ass to hell and back once they were all safely off Petros.
“Ah, I believe we’re ready to leave now.” Alexandre glanced to the doorway behind them, where three more men now stood. Again, they were all dressed in black suits and those wrap-around sunglasses.
Which made absolutely no difference to Caleb knowing exactly who those men were. Yes, an ass kicking was definitely in his near future.
“So soon?” Spiro was obviously disappointed. “But you have only just arrived.”
“Do not worry, Spiro, you will be leaving with us,” Alexandre informed him without apology. “A little matter of imprisoning and selling unwilling young ladies to the highest bidder, I believe.”
“What? I do not— I have not—” Spiro blustered, his face paling. “That’s preposterous!”
“Is it, Miss Roig?” Alexandre quirked one dark brow.
Everything seemed to be happening too fast for Lena to be able to keep up. The prince and Caleb obviously did know each other, to the degree Caleb had been at the other man’s wedding. Even if that was so, she still had no idea how the prince knew about Spiro’s illegal sale of women. Or how or why it was any of his business.
“No,” she answered the prince cautiously.
“As I thought.” Prince Alexandre nodded. “I really can’t have one of my close neighbors involved in illegal activities, Spiro,” he bit out disgustedly. “It does not reflect well on Androcco.”
“I am not going anywhere with you,” the older man sneered as two of the men standing behind Alexandre stepped forward to grasp hold of the Greek’s arms. “You do not have any jurisdiction over Petros—”
“There you are wrong.” The prince’s eyes turned flinty. “I believe you will find that although you own Petros, it is within the boundary of my principality, and as such comes under Androccan law. My advisers and I take a dim view of men such as you. In fact, every preparation is already being made for your trial. As I have the final say in the matter, I already predict you will spend the rest of your miserable life rotting in one of Androcco’s prison cells.”
“My men—”
“Have all been take care of,” the prince dismissed. “They are all now tied up and also ready for transportation to Androcco. Is that not so?” He gave another glance at the three men standing in the doorway.
“They are.” The leader took off his sunglasses and stepped forward, but toward Caleb, not the prince or Spiro. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?”
A nerve pulsed in Caleb’s jaw. “Saving Lena.”
“
And how was that going?”
The two men glared at each other as they stood toe to toe, each of a similar height and build. “Pretty well.”
“You couldn’t have given us a heads-up as to where you were going?”
“Nikolai—”
“Has already been made aware of my displeasure in the part he played in this.”
“How did that go down?” Caleb returned the taunt.
“Not well,” the other man grated.
“There was no point in involving you when I couldn’t be sure whether or not Lena was even here.”
“That wasn’t for you to decide. Thank God, once we’d explained the situation, Alexandre was only too willing to offer Androcco as our setting-off point, and also his help in apprehending Dukakis.”
“For which I obviously thank him.”
“It’s going to take more than thanks on your part for us to get over the sheer bloody recklessness of what you did—”
“Would someone mind telling me what’s going on?” Lena could no longer keep her impatience contained. “Who are you people? And what’s your connection to Caleb?”
The leader gave Caleb one last disapproving glare before turning to face her. Which was when she saw that his similarity to Caleb wasn’t just in height and build, but also in his facial structure. Same high forehead, sharp cheekbones, and strong jaw. His eyes were a darker green than Caleb’s, but still, the resemblance was there.
And not just to Caleb…
Lena had been Daniel’s nanny for almost a year when the Sinclair’s marriage broke up, and this man—could it possibly be Gabriel Knight, the man Caleb said was going to marry Angela Sinclair?—also bore a startling resemblance to seven-year-old Daniel Sinclair.
“Gabriel Knight.” He confirmed Lena’s suspicions as he held out his hand to her. “And these are my other brothers, Asher and Ethan.” He introduced the two men who had accompanied him into the room and who now stood guard at the door.
Lena nodded to the other men before shaking Gabriel’s hand distractedly. Caleb had been scary enough in his role as Dmitri Volkov, but Gabriel Knight was in a league of his own when it came to scary. Everything about him was hard and unyielding. The buzz cut of his dark hair—also military? His eyes. His jaw. The leashed power in the toned muscles beneath his suit.
Capturing Caleb (Knight Security 3) Page 7