His Christmas Assignment

by Lisa Childs

  Candace had no words of wisdom to offer Nikki. She was hardly an expert where trust was concerned. She opened the passenger’s door and stepped onto the sidewalk. “Thanks for bringing me back to my car.”

  Nikki nodded and then drove off once Candace closed the door. She had rarely said more than a couple of words to the brother she hadn’t known she had.

  “Hope she didn’t rush off my account,” Rus said as he watched the SUV drive away.

  “I’m sorry,” Candace said. It wasn’t his fault he was too painful a reminder to his half sister.

  He shrugged. “She’ll get over it…” He sighed and added, “Never.”

  “Yeah, probably not,” she agreed. “I’m surprised you showed up here. An attempted hit-and-run isn’t much of a crime for an FBI special agent to investigate.”

  “You brought your complaint to me earlier today,” he reminded her.

  “I shouldn’t have wasted your time with it either,” she said.

  He gestured toward the crime scene tape across the alley. “There was another attempt, so it obviously wasn’t a waste of time. Did you see the driver?”

  She shook her head. “He was wearing a mask—like the guy was wearing the night before.”

  “So you’re pretty sure it’s the same guy?”

  She shook her head. “Not at all. It could have been a similar mask and a different guy.”

  Chekov had a lot of muscle working for him. So why had he needed Garek as a bodyguard? He wouldn’t have needed him for protection. Nobody had ever been able to touch Chekov—physically or legally.

  Agent Rus drew a folder out of the inside of his overcoat and flipped it open to some mug shots. “Could it have been any of these guys?”

  All guys with big heads and no necks. “It could have been all of them. Who are they?”

  “Guys you arrested who’ve been recently let out on parole. They all potentially have an ax to grind with you.”

  She laughed at his hypocrisy. “You don’t think they were reformed in jail like everyone—including you—believes Garek Kozminski was?”

  “This has nothing to do with Garek Kozminski.”

  “This has everything to do with Garek Kozminski,” she said. Until she’d gotten involved with him, nobody had ever tried to kill her—at least not outside of a war zone or in order to get to the subject she was protecting.

  “Here’s a whole gallery of suspects,” Rus said. “Why is it so hard for you to believe one of them would come after you?”

  “This has nothing to do with me,” she insisted. Or someone would have tried to kill her before. “This has everything to do with Viktor Chekov.”

  Rus glanced around—almost as if he was afraid someone might have overheard her accusation. “You have to be careful, Candace,” he warned her again. “Chekov isn’t someone you want to go after without evidence…”

  She would find the evidence—even if she had to do it alone.

  Then he added, “Or an army.”

  She’d been part of an army before. But most of the time it had taken only one soldier to take out the enemy. She was no sniper but she was smart. Viktor Chekov would not take her out before she was able to take him down.

  Chapter 10

  Garek clicked off his cell phone and sighed. He hadn’t needed Agent Rus’s warning to know Candace wasn’t about to give up and stop interfering. After having her life threatened—not once but twice—someone else might have taken the warning and backed off.

  But not Candace.

  Didn’t she have any idea how much danger she was in? That car could have killed them both and probably would have had he not been able to move as quickly as he had. And if he hadn’t gone after her when she’d left the club the night before…

  He shuddered to think what might have happened to her. Sure, she was tough. But anyone could be taken by surprise—as she had been that night.

  He drew in a steadying breath before pushing open the door to Viktor’s office at the club. But that breath whooshed out when a fist slammed into his stomach. He doubled over in pain. “What the hell…”

  When the big man swung again, Garek was ready—catapulting himself at him and knocking him to the floor. The first thing he looked for were the marks Candace had put on her attacker. But this man’s neck bore no scratches—just stubble. The guy bucked him off just as two other men grabbed him. Another fist slugged him—this one belonged to Viktor.

  It didn’t hurt as badly as the first blow had. But he doubled over again and tugged free of the men who held him. Neither of those two had marks on their necks either. These were Viktor’s usual guys—the closest of his family since the man killed Tori’s boyfriend. If Viktor had sent someone after Candace, it would have been one of them.

  Or himself…

  “What the hell’s wrong with you?” Garek asked. “You already put me through this gang beat down weeks ago.” He must have discovered Garek was working for Rus. But if Chekov had, he probably would have done more than beat him.

  Viktor laughed. “Gang? You call my family a gang?”

  It was certainly no family Garek would want to be part of. He shrugged off his comment. “I was just trying to be funny.”

  “Oh, yeah, you’re a funny guy,” Viktor agreed. “You ask me for this job—to hire your brother-in-law’s business to protect my daughter. You promise me that you’re the only one who can protect her—then you pawn her protection off on your brother. What the hell’s wrong with you?”

  Garek cursed. “I trust my brother. I can’t say the same for you or any of your men.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your right-hand man was killed,” Garek said—as if Chekov would have needed the reminder. “That’s why I worried about Tori. Anyone gets close to you, they wind up dead.”

  Probably at Viktor’s hand—because he’d seen something they’d done—maybe an involvement with his daughter—as a betrayal.

  “Then I get close to you,” he continued, “and suddenly someone’s trying to kill me.”

  Viktor laughed. “This was hardly a beating. You’ve gotten soft, Garek.”

  “Someone tried running me down earlier today,” he said. Of course he probably hadn’t been the target—unless Viktor already believed he’d betrayed him. “And did you see my brother today? Someone really roughed him up last night.”

  “You and your brother both?” The color left Viktor’s face. Was he shocked the attacks had happened or shocked they had survived them?

  “Yeah.” And Candace. But he didn’t want to bring her to Viktor’s attention—if she already wasn’t. Could Rus be right? Could that attack in the alley have been some guy she arrested years ago?

  Maybe even today—the car—that could have been someone else, too. What the hell was really going on?

  And if Candace was in danger on her own—he needed to be with her, not putting her in even more danger with his involvement with Chekov. His heart wrenched as if torn in two. He didn’t want to be the one who’d put her in danger; he wanted to be the one to protect her.

  “Why would someone go after you and your brother?” Viktor asked. “Are the two of you into something—have you crossed someone?”

  They had crossed a lot of someones when they’d helped protect the Paynes a year ago. But most of those someones hadn’t survived the firefights. Or they were in such high-security prisons they wouldn’t be able to get so much as a postcard to the outside.

  “I don’t think it’s about us,” Garek replied. “I think it’s about you.”

  “Why?” Viktor scoffed. “You’re not close to me.”

  “We’re close to Tori—we’ve been protecting her,” he pointed out. “Someone could be trying to get me and Milek out of the way, so they can get to Tori.”

  Now color flushed Viktor’s face a mottled red, and rage burned in his dark eyes. “Nobody better hurt her,” he threatened. “Or I’ll tear them apart.”

  Garek didn’t doubt him.

  Then
Viktor swung his arm around, encompassing all the men in the room. “And I’ll tear apart anyone who lets her get hurt.”

  Garek restrained an involuntary shudder. He didn’t believe Tori was in danger—probably even if Viktor discovered she was the one who’d gone to the FBI about his killing Alexander Polinsky. But Garek still intended to make damn certain she stayed safe. He didn’t want to incur Viktor’s wrath.

  But what about Viktor? How could he be so worried about someone else hurting her after he already had? He was the man who’d hurt her most when he’d killed her lover. Shouldn’t he at least confess to killing Polinsky in order to make amends to her? Or explain why he’d done it?

  He’d heard that Alexander had been a bit of a playboy. Maybe he’d cheated on Tori, and Victor had killed him because of that betrayal.

  Garek had an opening now to get Viktor to talk. And while they’d beat the hell out of him when he’d walked into the office, for the first time they hadn’t checked him for a wire. There was the risk they might next time—when he was actually wearing one. But even if he found the murder weapon, it didn’t put the gun in Viktor’s hand that night.

  Only Viktor could do that.

  He had to get him to talk and soon—before anyone else got hurt.

  *

  Candace hadn’t intended to return to the club. But it was where it had begun; it was from here someone had followed and attacked her.

  Why?

  She walked in with the intention of talking to Viktor Chekov himself—of asking him for his security footage from the night before. But, even this near closing time, the club was crowded. Nobody at the bar would ask for more than her drink order. When she demanded to speak to the owner, they walked away from her.

  So she moved instead toward the roped-off table where Tori Chekov sat. She didn’t watch the crowd or move with the music. Her only interest appeared to be in her phone until she glanced up and saw Candace. Recognition flashed in her dark eyes.

  Milek stood up. His face was swollen and bruised.

  Concern filled her. “What happened to you?”

  “I got involved in something that was none of my business,” he told her, and his voice was colder than she’d ever heard it—than she’d thought Milek capable of being. “You need to leave, Candace.”

  “I want to talk to Chekov,” she said.

  “That’s not possible,” another man answered. He was big—bigger than Milek—and obviously armed, his gun too big for his holster.

  She glanced at his neck, but he had no scratches. This wasn’t the man who’d attacked her. What about Chekov’s other men? It could have been any of them, and she suspected he had several in his employ.

  “Where’s Garek?” she asked.

  The woman snorted—something Candace wouldn’t have thought such a princess type capable of doing.

  She turned toward her. “What?”

  “Chasing after him like you are is very unattractive,” the woman told her.

  No one had ever called Candace beautiful—except Garek. He had kept saying it that night—as he’d undressed her, as he’d made love to her. And after as he’d held her…until he’d fallen asleep. Then she’d slipped away from him—because she hadn’t been able to believe him. To believe in what had happened between them.

  But then she’d been right to leave—since he had proved to still be the man she’d been afraid he was.

  But what if she hadn’t left that night? Would he be working for Chekov? Was this all her fault?

  Candace shrugged. She could have told the woman Garek was the one who’d been chasing after her—that he had chased her for a year before finally catching her. That even last night he’d let himself into her apartment…

  But she suspected while Garek wasn’t in love with Chekov’s daughter, the same might not be true of Tori. Being around him again might have rekindled her teenage crush on him. Because she was acting almost proprietary.

  Candace recognized the woman’s attitude because she felt that way herself—possessive of Garek Kozminski. It was crazy. Garek Kozminski wasn’t the kind of man that any woman would ever possess. He would belong to no one. The most a woman would get from him was a night like Candace had had—a magical, wondrous night of unsurpassed pleasure.

  That was another reason she had slipped out that night—so she wouldn’t expect more from him than he was willing or able to give. No. Nothing would have changed if she’d stayed.

  “I need to talk to him,” Candace persisted. If anyone could get Chekov to turn over the security footage, he could. She needed to see it—to see if any of his men had followed her out. Or maybe Rus was right and one of those mug shots he’d shown her had followed her.

  As if thoroughly disgusted with her, Tori snorted again. Then she said, “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

  “Probably,” Candace acknowledged. “But it won’t be the first time. Fortunately no one’s ever died of humiliation.”

  “Maybe not but plenty of them have died of stupidity,” a deep voice murmured.

  Her skin tingled in reaction to Garek’s closeness. But then he was grasping her arm and tugging her through the crowd.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, as she tried to wriggle free of him.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he asked. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

  She tried to dig her heels into the floor. But it was concrete, so she caught no traction. She wasn’t able to slow him down as he effortlessly pulled her along behind him.

  “No,” she replied. “I’m trying to find out who’s trying to kill me. I need the security footage from last night.”

  “Do you have a search warrant?” he asked. “Oh, that’s right. You’re not a cop anymore. Seems like you’ve forgotten.”

  “I haven’t forgotten how to investigate a crime,” she said, “which is what I intend to do.”

  “This isn’t your case,” Garek said. “It’s Rus’s. Let him handle the investigation.”

  So he knew she’d gone to the FBI agent. How? Had Rus questioned him or colluded with him?

  “Do you think he’ll be able to get a search warrant for the security footage?” she asked.

  She was surprised when he answered honestly, “No.”

  “Then let me see it,” she said. “If Chekov has nothing to hide…”

  He let out a bitter chuckle and flinched. His hand skimmed over his stomach, and she realized he’d been hit. Milek wasn’t the only one who’d been roughed up. What the hell were the Kozminskis involved in?

  “Chekov doesn’t have anything to hide about you,” he said. “He doesn’t even know you exist.”

  She doubted that—since his daughter seemed to know and pity her. And since she was pretty sure the man who’d followed her from the club and attacked her in the alley probably worked for Chekov. But then most of the criminals in River City worked for him.

  “And we’re going to keep it that way,” Garek said as he continued tugging her through the crowd toward the exit.

  “You can’t throw me out of here,” she said. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “We reserve the right to refuse anyone’s business,” he said, and he pointed to the sign in the lobby proclaiming exactly that.

  She tugged free of his grasp before he could toss her onto the street. The two valets in the lobby stared at them—until Garek glared back. Then they quickly stepped outside into the cold.

  “We,” she repeated what he’d said. “You are working for Chekov.”

  “I’m on assignment,” he said.

  “You admitted to me that you’re in too deep,” she reminded him.

  He shrugged. “And that surprises you? You’re the one who kept warning Logan that I hadn’t changed—that I was a criminal and a killer.” He flinched again, but she suspected it had nothing to do with whatever injuries he had and everything to do with what she used to say about him.

  She reached out to him instinctively, wanting to soothe his pain�
��his physical ones and whatever emotional ones she might have inflicted. It had been wrong and out of character for her to act like she had with him. She was never judgmental and unforgiving—until him.

  But he caught the hand she reached toward him before she could touch him. “You were right about me,” he said. “Doesn’t that make you happy?”

  It made her sick with disappointment. And it confused her—because if he truly was the man she’d worried he was, she doubted he would have admitted it. Was he lying to her like he’d lied to Logan about loving Tori Chekov?

  Why?

  “But that night…” That night had changed everything, had made her want to believe in him, to trust him.

  “It was a mistake,” he said. “We both know that.”

  Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them back and lifted her chin. She could take a hit, too. She certainly had over the years.

  He continued, “And your coming here was a mistake. You need to leave and never come back.”

  “But I need to find out who attacked me.”

  “Leave that investigation to Rus,” he said. “And leave me alone.” He released her hand then and opened the door.

  A blast of cold air slapped her in the face and brought her to her senses. She had made a fool of herself—letting herself believe Stacy was right, that he had cared about her.

  “I’ll leave you alone,” she promised. “But you need to stay the hell away from me, too.”

  “I will,” he said.

  As she passed by him to step out the door, she heard him murmur, “I have to…”

  She stopped in front of him and met his gaze. His gray eyes were dark with emotions, but she could read none of them. She couldn’t read him. She could only feel her own attraction to him, in her quickening pulse, in the tingling in her body. Her breath escaped in a gasp, but all she said was, “Goodbye.” Then she walked away.

  This time she was ready when she left, though—her hand on her gun. If anyone tried to attack her again, she would protect herself. Physically.

  She hadn’t been able to protect herself emotionally though. Garek Kozminski had gotten to her—had broken her heart before she’d even realized he had stolen it. She had been right about him; he was a thief.