Capturing Caleb (Knight Security 3)

by Carole Mortimer

  “Ready for me to be inside you now?” To Caleb, this was all about Lena. Her pleasure. Her desires. Anything she wanted, he would give her. Whatever it was.

  “God, yes.” Lena was a trembling mass of need. Wanting more, and then more still.

  Wanting both the domineering Dmitri he had been initially and the sensuous Caleb who had licked and laved and thrust into her until she came again and again.

  She drew in her breath as the thick glans breached the opening of her channel. His fingers had stretched her, but nowhere near enough. She felt each ridge and vein as his cock entered her inch by pleasurable inch until it was seated to the hilt and his tight sac was pressed against the cheeks of her bottom.

  “Legs around my waist,” he prompted. “Remember, I want to feel you dig your heels into my ass each time I thrust inside you.” He lowered his head and suckled one of her taut nipples into the burning heat of his mouth. Sucking. Biting. Before turning his attention to its twin and repeating the pleasure. And all the time, his hips thrust against hers in a slow and steady rhythm that drove her to the edge before he pulled her back again. Refusing her that release time and again without mercy.

  “Caleb!” she cried out, writhing her hips against him in frustration.

  His eyes were dark as he looked up at her. “Take me.”

  Lena didn’t need a second invitation. Her arms went up about his neck as she curled her legs about his waist and dug her heels into his ass to lift her hips and take control of the force and speed of those thrusts.

  “That’s it.” Caleb groaned against her damp throat. “Harder. Faster. God, deeper!”

  She had no idea how long they fought that sensuous battle, or how many times she came before Caleb tensed and then cried out. She felt the heat of his release pumping, pulsing deep inside her for long pleasurable minutes before he collapsed weakly down onto her breasts.

  “Thank you,” she murmured when her breathing had finally steadied enough for her to be able to talk at all, knowing that Caleb had deliberately let her take control. And why.

  He chuckled softly. “It’s customary for the man to thank the woman, not the other way round.”

  Her fingers were entangled in his long hair. “If anything, it was better than I remember.”

  “Yes.”

  Lena knew she was smiling as exhaustion claimed her and she fell into a deep, untroubled sleep.

  Chapter 13

  Caleb woke the following morning to the sound of Lena retching as she was being seriously ill in the bathroom.

  Sometime during the night, he had woken up and realized they were both cold. He’d picked Lena up and carried her to bed, pulling the covers over them both as she turned in his arms and the two of them made love again. Slowly, pleasurably, as they explored every inch of each other.

  He’d then curled spoon fashion against her back as she settled straight back to sleep, cupping one of her breasts in the palm of his hand as he also drifted off to sleep.

  Caleb threw back the bedcovers now, pulling on a pair of loose sweats from inside his bag before hurrying into the bathroom.

  Lena sat on the floor beside the toilet, naked and looking totally miserable. “I must have eaten something at dinner last night that disagreed with me.” Her face was flushed, eyes watering as she fought back more waves of nausea.

  Caleb grabbed a washcloth and dampened it with cold water before going down on his haunches to use it to both wipe and cool her face. “How long have you been ill?”

  “I don’t know,” she groaned emotionally. “Seems like hours, but it could just be a few minutes.”

  “It’s okay.” Caleb continued to dampen her forehead with the cloth. “Food poisoning is unpleasant, but it usually passes quickly too.”

  Lena felt too miserable to feel in the least cheered by this news. She also had no self-consciousness regarding her nakedness. Caleb had pretty well seen every inch of her the previous night. As she had seen and appreciated every inch of him. Being so ill also prevented her from feeling any awkwardness at the memory of the intimacies they had shared the previous night.

  Being violently ill was so not what she had envisioned happening this morning. She’d had more in mind enjoying a long and leisurely breakfast together, preferably in bed, and then the two of them making love again. She had thought she would be able to demonstrate her culinary skills.

  Right now, she just wanted to crawl back into bed, definitely without eating, pull the covers over her head, and go back to sleep in the hope the nausea would have gone away when she woke up again.

  “Come on, let’s get you back to bed.” Caleb placed a hand under her elbow to help her stand.

  “I need to rinse my mouth out first.” She grimaced, leaning against the vanity for balance as she filled the glass with cold water before swilling and spitting and then drinking a little to ease the soreness of her throat after being so sick.

  She glanced in the mirror and saw their reflection. Caleb stood just behind her, only his head and bare torso visible. His magnificent warrior torso, the scars only adding to the image of strength. Except it wasn’t an image with Caleb. He was one of the strongest men she had ever met, inwardly and outwardly.

  And she felt as weak as a kitten after being so sick, even swaying slightly as she pushed away from the vanity.

  “Here.” Caleb placed his hand back on her elbow to steady her as he helped her back into bed. He made sure she was comfortably tucked beneath the duvet before straightening. “Can I get you anything? Tea? Toast? No,” he accepted ruefully as her only answer was a groan. “Well, I’ll be in the kitchen if you change your mind.” He grabbed a T-shirt from his bag.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Caleb turned, a frown of puzzlement creasing his brow. “For what?”

  “Being sick.” Her face was almost as white as the pillow she lay against. “I know men aren’t patient with other people’s illness.”

  “I think that’s a generalization, love,” he dismissed ruefully. “I have no problem if a person is genuinely feeling unwell. It’s the ‘oh, I feel faint’ just-for-attention women that irritate the hell out of most men.”

  “That isn’t me.”

  “No, that certainly isn’t you.” He allowed his fingers to caress gently down her cheek. “I would happily go into battle with you at my side.”

  Her smile was wan. “I think you already did.”

  “Yes.” The two of them had fought a battle of a kind on Petros. And they had won. The same with last night. Caleb intended they would continue to win. “Consider my looking after you now my thanks for taking care of me on Petros.”

  She looked confused. “But I didn’t do anything…”

  “You helped me fight my nighttime demons,” he reminded her.

  Her eyes widened in realization. “You didn’t have any nightmares last night.”

  “They seem to have pretty well stopped,” he assured her. He felt a tightening in his chest that felt like happiness, at the realization Lena hadn’t even given his nightmares a thought, or his violent reaction to them, when she suggested the two of them spend last night together. She wasn’t frightened of his demons. He wanted to be here to help her through hers. If she would let him. “Get some sleep now. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

  She snuggled down under the covers. “Okay.” She closed her eyes, the evenness of her breathing only seconds later telling him she was already asleep.

  Caleb lingered to continue looking at her for several moments. Her hair seemed a deeper auburn against the white pillows, her lashes longer and darker against her pale cheeks. Her lips were still slightly puffy from their lovemaking last night. There was also a slight redness to her neck and throat from the rasp of his stubble against her much softer skin.

  She had never looked lovelier to him than she did right now.

  Lena woke to hear the murmur of voices. Male voices. Two of them. Caleb and another man. Zander, perhaps? After all, it was his home.

&
nbsp; A glance at the bedside clock showed her two hours had passed since she had gone back to bed. Surprisingly, the nausea seemed to have completely disappeared. In fact, she felt ravenously hungry and desperately in need of a cup of tea.

  She couldn’t hear what the two men were talking about, leaving her undecided about whether she should wait up here until it was convenient for her to go down, or just go down anyway. If Zander was the other man, then he probably wasn’t about to leave any time soon, and she was hungry. Besides, she really owed him an apology for invading his home this way.

  Except she still didn’t have anything to wear but the black dress from yesterday evening.

  Well, at least the bathroom was on this level, so she could have a shower before deciding what to do about clothes.

  She went into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around herself before sneaking a peak over the balcony to the open-plan room below. The man talking to Caleb was in his mid-thirties, with white-blond, shoulder-length hair and harsh patrician features dominated by the palest gray eyes Lena had ever seen. If that was Zander, he was almost as scary looking as Gabriel.

  Half an hour later, Lena felt much cleaner. She had even managed to find a brand-new toothbrush she could use, still sealed in its packet, in the bathroom cabinet. She would replace it as soon as she was able. Right now, the need to brush her teeth was greater than any awkwardness she felt about taking the toothbrush without asking first.

  When she stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom, it was to find an overnight bag on the bed with several changes of her clothes and toiletries inside. Gabriel had obviously called while she was asleep too, and Caleb must have heard her using the shower and brought the bag up for her.

  It was pretty obvious Angela had packed the bag for her. For one thing, the underwear matched. There were also all the toiletries Lena could possibly need, plus a hairbrush to comb out some of the tangles in her hair, and one of the bands she often used to tie it back. Her cheeks felt warm as she realized the tangles were from when she and Caleb made love last night.

  Dressed in one of her own white T-shirts and low-rider black jeans, her hair secured at her crown, a peach gloss on her lips, she felt better equipped to go down and face Caleb and meet the man he was talking to.

  The conversation stopped the moment she started to descend the half a dozen steps onto their level. The blond-haired man rose slowly to his feet as she walked toward them both.

  She held her hand out to him. “Lena Roig.”

  “Nikolai Volkov.” His grip was firm and decisive as he shook her hand briefly before letting go again.

  This man, dressed in his designer-label suit that probably cost thousands, along with his silk shirt and tie and handmade Italian leather shoes, was the man Caleb had told her was Russian Bratva?

  Volkov gave a hard smile as he glanced at Caleb before looking back at her. “It would seem my reputation has preceded me.”

  “Not at all. I was just… You… Yes.” Lena decided to go with the truth. She was pretty sure this man wouldn’t accept anything less.

  He raised blond brows. “I would be interested to know under what circumstances Caleb felt the need to discuss our…association.”

  Lena cheeks warmed with temper rather than embarrassment as she heard the challenge in Volkov’s voice. “I believe it was the circumstance of Caleb explaining to me how it was he was able to carry off playing the part of a ruthless member of the Russian mafia so successfully.”

  Volkov bared his teeth in a smile. “Gabriel was right, you do have balls.”

  This time, her blush was a guilty one. “I apologize, Mr. Volkov. That was unforgivably rude of me. Without your help, Caleb wouldn’t have been able to effect my rescue.”

  “Are you feeling better?” Caleb decided it was time to put an end to their conversation, before one or both of them got hurt. Not that he thought Lena had a chance against Nikolai, for all she “had balls,” but this situation was already fraught with enough tension. Although Lena didn’t look in the least tense, from the conversation or her earlier sickness. In fact, she looked glowingly healthy.

  She gave him a bright smile. “Yes, thank you. I’m actually starving.”

  “Ah.”

  “What?” Caleb frowned his irritation at Nikolai’s enigmatic comment.

  “Nothing.” Nikolai dismissed the subject. “Perhaps while Miss Roig prepares herself something to eat, we should bring her up to speed as to who is trying to shoot her and why.”

  “Lena,” she invited distractedly as she moved to open the fridge and search through its contents. “An omelet looks good.” She took out the makings of it and dumped them all on top of one of the kitchen units.

  “I’ll make some fresh coffee,” Caleb offered.

  “Tea would be better,” Nikolai advised softly.

  “I would prefer tea, anyway.” Lena switched on the kettle. “Can I get anything for either of you?”

  Both men refused. Caleb had already eaten, and he was sure Nikolai intended having lunch with Daisy after he left here. As the lead bodyguards for Gregori and Gaia Markovic, the couple were rarely apart.

  Lena wasn’t kidding about her appetite having returned, from the look of the huge omelet she made for herself.

  “I should have some toast with that,” Nikolai advised, the two men having moved to sit at the breakfast bar while Lena cooked.

  “Good idea.” She instantly popped two slices of bread into the toaster. “So.” She finally sat down opposite them with her laden plate. “Who wants me dead?” She bit into a piece of toast with obvious enjoyment.

  “Alexei Fedorov is the nephew of Ivan Fedorov. The Fedorovs are a prominent Bratva family in Russia,” Nikolai immediately informed her.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know any Alexei Fedorov.”

  “You knew him as Trevor,” Caleb supplied.

  Lena stilled. “Dukakis’s boyfriend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Dukakis didn’t know he was Bratva,” she guessed.

  “We think not,” Nikolai confirmed. “Alexei’s relationship was Ivan’s way of infiltrating the sex-slave trade in Europe. Learning all the contacts, how shipments were made, after which Alexei would have eliminated Dukakis and no doubt taken over the operation for himself.”

  “So we saved Spiro’s life?”

  “It would seem so,” Caleb confirmed wryly.

  She gave a shake of her head. “That really sucks.”

  “Vicious little thing, isn’t she?” Nikolai murmured with obvious admiration as Lena continued to eat heartily.

  “You have no idea,” Caleb said almost proudly.

  “I believe I am starting to.” Nikolai nodded before turning back to Lena. “Having you testify against Clive Sinclair, incriminating Dukakis, and possibly involving Alexei does not fit in with Ivan’s plans for his nephew’s future at all. Nor does having Alexei as a wanted felon in Europe. He needs freedom of movement if he is to take over from Sinclair and Dukakis. Ivan sent Alexei to kill you, and so eliminate the problem. Fortunately, he was unable to locate you until you returned to London three days ago. He has been biding his time since then.”

  Lena gave a shudder and a prayer of thanks for having stayed at her grandparents’ villa on the coast. “And you know all this because…?”

  “I’m Bratva.”

  She stilled as a sudden thought occurred to her. “My God, do you think Alexei knew Caleb wasn’t really Dmitri Volkov when we were on Petros?”

  “My informants tell me he was looking into the subject.” Nikolai shrugged. “He would not have found anything to dispute Caleb’s claim. Nor will Fedorov find any evidence now.”

  “But Alexei saw Caleb with me last night.”

  “And as far as he is concerned, Caleb is still Dmitri Volkov.” His eyes narrowed to icy slits. “My cousin will, of course, meet an untimely death in the coming weeks. But not at the hand of Alexei Fedorov.”

  “Yours?”

  “A dis
agreement between cousins will possibly occur, yes. Or, once we find and…disable Alexei, we might then, in turn, need to blame his disappearance on Dmitri. Ivan Fedorov will, of course, demand retribution.”

  “Dmitri’s death.”

  Nikolai nodded. “The matter will be dealt with to our satisfaction. In either case, Dmitri will be dead.”

  “You really are that good?”

  The Russian gave a wolfish smile. “I am really that good, yes.”

  Lena shook her head. “And to think, five months ago, I didn’t know any of this world existed!”

  Nikolai nodded. “And five months from now, you will hopefully have forgotten all that you know about it now.” He stood. “My men and I are doing our best to ensure Alexei will not trouble either of you again.”

  Lena had finished eating and now sipped her tea. “Won’t that have repercussions for you with the Fedorov family?”

  “Believe it or not, there are rules, even amongst the Bratva. Gregori Markovic runs London Bratva,” the Russian added arrogantly. “The two of us have discussed the situation, and we are agreed Ivan did not ask Gregori’s permission before sending his nephew here to kill you. We are now at liberty to deal with the matter as we see fit.”

  Her wince was pained. “By killing him instead?”

  Nikolai’s mouth thinned. “I believe the less you know about the outcome of that situation, the better.”

  Lena was inclined to agree with him. It was a world, once Clive Sinclair’s trial was over, she wanted absolutely nothing more to do with.

  “It has been a pleasure meeting you, Miss Roig,” the Russian smiled. “Do not worry,” he drawled as she tried to think of a suitable reply. “You do not need to feel the same in regard to meeting me.” He gave another of those wolfish smiles. “My wife tells me I can be an intimidating bastard at the best of times, and this is not the best of times.”

  Lena liked the sound of Daisy Volkov. “If you manage to sort this situation in such a way neither Caleb nor I are killed or injured in the process, then it has been very pleasant meeting you too!”