by Katie Reus
This again? Perhaps Oleg’s fascination with Darcy was greater than he’d realized. “What did the man look like?” After Oleg told him, Semyon said, “That’s her boyfriend. They’re back together. So why don’t you stop wasting both of our time and go do your job.”
Oleg’s eyes narrowed. “What boyfriend?”
Semyon stared at the man for a long moment, unable to believe he was seriously asking him instead of doing his damn job. “Don’t worry about things that don’t matter. When we bring Kuznetsov down, we’ll have complete freedom.” As it was, Semyon unfortunately answered to Kuznetsov. They weren’t linked in the way the Italians were, not like the mob on TV, but it was the same concept.
He had to pay his dues. Literally.
He wanted to get out from under Kuznetsov’s thumb, to be free. More than that…this was personal. Kuznetsov had taken from him long ago. He would pay for what he’d done. And there was no walking away from this life. “And you want to worry about some woman? What’s the matter with you?”
Oleg’s expression was defiant. “She thinks she’s too good for me.”
Darcy was too good for Oleg, but Semyon didn’t say that. They were too damn close to pulling this thing off to risk ruffling egos now. “Let’s finish this job and worry about her later, yes?” Or in reality, he’d kill Oleg.
Finally, Oleg nodded.
“How are things looking with Dimitri?” The man they planned to frame for the bombings and Kuznetsov’s murder. He was one of Kuznetsov’s men—and Semyon knew that Kuznetsov had hurt someone close to Dimitri, giving the man a motive to hurt Kuznetsov.
Not only that but Dimitri had links to people at each potential bomb site, which was how Semyon had chosen the potential targets in the first place. The Feds would have to dig, but they’d eventually uncover Dimitri’s “motive” of wanting to kill everyone he believed had wronged him in life. Dimitri would be arrested for the mass murders—and then killed by someone tied to Kuznetsov. That part was still up in the air, but knowing Kuznetsov’s men, he had almost no doubt that Dimitri would die soon after.
Oleg nodded. “Good. I’ve got the laptop to plant with his manifesto and a search history of how to make bombs. It’s all buried sufficiently so the Feds will have to dig for it.”
Perfect. That would make things all the more believable. Running a hand over his face as Oleg left, Semyon sat on the edge of the desk. The blueprints wrinkled slightly as he moved. For a moment, doubt crept in, allowing him to contemplate what he was doing.
But no, this had to be done. He needed to be free. Because if he wasn’t free, his family wouldn’t be. His oldest son and wife had been killed by Kuznetsov. Not directly, of course, but it had been on his orders. And Kuznetsov had no idea that Semyon knew.
When he’d been a young man and first starting out, he’d resisted being recruited by Kuznetsov. Then when his wife and son had been killed by a business rival—allegedly—Semyon had massacred him and his entire family.
Kuznetsov had convinced Semyon that the only way he would have insulation from others would be to join forces, to become part of his organization. A decade later, Semyon found out the truth, that Kuznetsov had ordered the death of his family to bring him in line. It was only by chance that Peter hadn’t been with his wife and other son that day. And Peter had no idea the real reason they’d been killed or even what Semyon did for a living.
Semyon was patient, cunning, and would soon get what he wanted. His only son would be free to live his life. Not that Peter even knew his life was in a constant state of danger. Because if Semyon’s treachery was ever discovered, what was left of his family would be destroyed. Which was why he couldn’t simply put a bullet in Kuznetsov’s head. Not only couldn’t he be even remotely suspected of this, he had to be a potential victim as well.
Sighing, he pushed up from his seat. He only allowed himself a few minutes of doubt before his resolve kicked in.
Now it was time to go face the beast in his hotel room. And start putting this whole thing into motion. He’d been planning it for a very long time, had been waiting to find the right person to blame for everything. Now Semyon had someone. And everything else had fallen into place.
He patted his jacket pocket once. His gloves, with their explosive residue, would do his job for him. He would make sure every surface possible was covered in it. And no one would be the wiser. Then on Saturday, when Kuznetsov came to his son’s wedding, he would make sure the man’s vehicle was rigged with the same explosives as the school.
Semyon would make sure Kuznetsov died. Then he would detonate the explosives Oleg would set in Semyon’s own vehicle. It would be made to look as if he’d been targeted too. Dimitri would eventually be blamed for killing everyone, and Kuznetsov just one of many he’d wanted to kill in his quest for revenge.
The only thing that mattered was that Semyon looked like a victim. That he walked away and Kuznetsov didn’t.
Chapter 13
—Not to brag, but I don’t even need alcohol to make really bad decisions.—
Darcy set her purse and laptop bag on her counter. Trying to ignore the huge cowboy behind her would be impossible. And he was staying for the night…apparently. After the day she’d had, she was actually fine with it. It was just going to be weird having him under her roof again.
Because he wouldn’t be in her bed, he would be in the guest room. Where he belonged. At least that was what she tried to tell herself. The truth was, she wouldn’t mind having him in her bed again. But no. No, no, no. For…reasons.
She mentally shook herself as she turned to face him. He was pulling out the takeout boxes. He’d picked her up from work, and she’d found that he’d already gotten takeout for them. Because of course he knew she had no food here. She rarely did.
What he’d done was thoughtful and so typical Brooks. At least typical of the Brooks she’d fallen for. Not the Brooks who’d morphed into a huge jackass and broken her heart. But that wasn’t something she was going to think about right now.
“How does water sound? Or do you want wine?” she asked.
“Water works.”
“So…what’s going on?” she asked as she grabbed them both bottles of water. His friend Gage was monitoring her security system so she knew that they were free to speak. No one had come near her house, which was a good sign. And another reason she didn’t think someone had actually tampered with her brakes. “Don’t leave anything out. You mentioned something about a federal agent earlier. What’s going on with that?” It was hard to believe that only a couple days ago she’d overheard a conversation that had changed her life. It felt as if eons had stretched on since then. Probably because she couldn’t sleep or concentrate.
“Leighton, one of the cofounders of our company, is meeting with a federal agent tomorrow. Early morning. It was the earliest she could get down here. We’ll know more then.” He pulled out plates and silverware for them.
And she realized that he was done. “Is that it?”
“Truthfully, I think they’ve already started doing more work than the agent is letting on. With the urgency of the situation, with kids in danger… When we meet tomorrow they’ll have already put people on all the schools.” He sounded so certain.
She let out a small breath of relief. “What else? You said you were going to fill me in on everything.”
He shrugged. “We’ve been keeping an eye on Markov Senior, Detective Turner, and Polzin. The cop is definitely dirty.” Brooks paused, frowning as he watched her. Even as he frowned, the man looked ridiculously sexy. Dressed casually today, he had on jeans, a worn pair of boots, a pullover sweater, and he’d hung his thick jacket by the front door. She was surprised he hadn’t worn his Stetson. Just as well, because she loved it on him. “Turner has some blueprints in his house of three schools. All local. And we’ve found some interesting financial records linked back to him.”
“How do you know he has blueprints in his house?”
Brooks simply raise
d an eyebrow.
“You broke in?”
He didn’t respond, and that was answer enough in itself.
“I don’t want you getting in trouble…or putting yourself in danger.”
Brooks snorted softly. “Trust me, I wasn’t in any danger.” He said it with complete confidence.
Well that was interesting. She hadn’t realized he knew how to break into places. “What kind of work does your consulting company do exactly?” She’d never really gotten an answer on that. She’d just been so happy to have someone to help that she hadn’t pushed.
“When I’ve got an engagement ring on your finger, I’ll tell you.” He was so matter-of-fact. As if what he’d just said was normal.
“Brooks!” He had to stop saying stuff like that. It was insane. And…she liked it. Which made her insane. Because he couldn’t be serious.
He simply nodded at the sesame chicken he’d put on her plate. “Eat up. I know you must be starving.”
Since she didn’t remotely want to talk about the “engagement ring on your finger” comment, she sat down and moved her plate in front of her. It was impossible to ignore his incredibly sexy presence, however. And his stupid “engagement ring” talk. Oh my God, what was wrong with her? She had to stop thinking about it. Even if he was serious, that ship had sailed.
Time to focus on other insanity. “So…you said that I will most likely have to talk to a federal agent.” She knew she wasn’t asking a question, she just wanted to confirm. Because the very thought of that made her nauseous. She’d known that was a possibility from the very beginning, but it was still scary to think about. All she’d really done was overhear a conversation. She had no evidence of anything. And she lived in the real world. Just because she said she’d heard something didn’t mean anything would happen or anyone would believe her. Justice for victims of crimes seemed to be a very rare thing indeed. All she had to do was turn on the news or look at social media for proof of that.
“It’s possible—probable. Like I said, I’ll be with you when and if that happens. I won’t let them put you in any compromising position or in danger.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Yeah, I know that. Thank you.”
“I’m serious.” He looked so earnest that it warmed her insides.
“I know. Whatever has gone down between us before…I do know that about you.”
“Darcy—”
“Don’t. If you’re going to apologize again, don’t. Please.” When he didn’t continue, she did. “Look, I know you’re sorry. And I was being sincere when I said I forgive you. Let’s just work on being friends again,” she said softly. Apparently she was a walking contradiction. She knew that attempting to be friends with him was stupid. But she really had missed his friendship on top of everything else. Before she could contemplate anything else, they had to get back to the place where they trusted each other. Meaning, she had to trust him again. And she wasn’t there yet. She wasn’t sure she ever would be.
“Okay.” His tone was quiet as he turned back to his food. “I’ve missed watching zombies with you on Sunday nights,” he said a moment later.
Despite her confused emotions, the comment made her laugh. No matter her work schedule, or how early he had to get up on Mondays, Sunday nights had been their zombie night. “I’ve tried watching it with Emma, but it’s definitely not the same. She closes her eyes pretty much the entire show. It’s ridiculous.” And it also made her laugh. Because her sister had no problem watching dark crime shows but anything with zombies? Forget about it.
“How’s she doing with the wedding?”
“Really good. I hate not being able to talk to her about anything. It’s weird.” Because since they were little, Darcy and Emma had always shared everything with each other. But this past week, Darcy had been keeping things to herself. Worry that her sister would be marrying into a criminal family was eating away at Darcy.
“Did you tell her about me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, today we let her soon-to-be father-in-law know that you have a new boyfriend. Did you warn her?”
“Oh, crap. Nope. I’m surprised I haven’t heard from her yet.” As if on cue, Darcy’s cell phone rang from her purse a few feet away. And she recognized the ring tone as her sister’s. “That’s her. I’m just going to ignore that for now.”
He grinned at her, revealing one of those sexy little dimples, and her insides melted all over again. She was such a goner for him. No matter how much she tried to tell herself that she didn’t want to get her heart broken again, she was pretty sure that if she let him go, it was going to stay broken no matter what. But deep down, she knew they needed to rebuild trust. She couldn’t just jump into something with him.
* * *
A couple hours later Darcy jerked to a halt as she entered her living room. Brooks had moved her coffee table and was doing push-ups right there on the rug, over and over.
God, look at the man. Sweat glistened on his arms and back and she wondered how long he’d been at it. Of course he wasn’t wearing a shirt, showcasing all of that bare, gorgeous skin. Skin she’d run her fingers and mouth over countless times.
What the heck was he doing? Well, it was obvious what he was doing, but… Why was he doing it in here? She started to step back out of the room when he looked over and saw her.
Giving her that charming cowboy smile, he slowly eased up to a standing position. It was as if he was moving in slow motion, all for her benefit. As if he was doing it intentionally to drive her crazy. Had it gotten hot in here?
“Sorry for using your living room. There’s a lot more room in here than the guest room.”
“It’s fine.” More than fine, she thought as her gaze trailed down his bare chest, to his eight-pack, right down to his belt. Damn it, she did not need to be staring at him like this. “Do you want a shirt?” she blurted. Then she inwardly winced. Way to be smooth.
His lips kicked up in a wicked grin. He patted his washboard stomach. “No, I’m good.”
She stared at him for a long moment. Then she turned on her heel and headed to the kitchen. She couldn’t be in the same room with him when he was half naked. But no surprise, he followed her.
“Is everything okay?” he asked as she started pouring herself a glass of water. And it wasn’t her imagination, he was definitely grinning at her as if he knew she was flustered. Of course he did. She wasn’t hiding it well and he was walking, talking sex. Heat rushed between her legs and she forced her gaze to remain on his face. “You’re being obnoxious,” she snapped, leaning against the countertop—she needed something to steady her.
Slowly he ran a hand down his stomach. “How’s that?”
“Stop, seriously. You know exactly what you’re doing.”
He lifted one of his big, broad shoulders and grinned. God that grin was panty-melting. “Do I?”
“Yes. You prancing around here half naked is…distracting.” That being an understatement.
His grin only faded a little. “I do not prance.”
She snorted.
“So, you like what you see?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave into pure sin and sex territory.
“I’m not feeding your ego.” Of course she liked what she saw. She had a pulse, was heterosexual, and she was single. How could she not appreciate all of that?
He closed the distance between them. “Well I certainly like what I see. I’ve missed you, Darcy.” Gone was the sweet, teasing cowboy. In his place was the intense, raw, sexual Brooks. The man who’d swept her off her feet. Now he was watching her with that possessive intensity she’d never fully gotten used to. It had always made her feel off-balance.
She swallowed hard and put a hand on his chest. Oh…no. Why had she done that? She automatically ran her fingers down the hard planes, as if she had every right to. Then froze.
“You can touch me anywhere you’d like,” he murmured.
Darcy started to pull her hand back. She really did.
But apparently her body had decided to stop listening to her brain. “We…can’t…” She wasn’t really sure what she planned to say.
Not when he started oh so slowly lowering his head toward hers.
She should really stop this. For reasons she couldn’t remember. Especially when his spicy, masculine scent was overwhelming her. She felt almost lightheaded as his lips brushed over hers.
Moaning, she arched into him, not caring that he was just a little bit sweaty. If anything, that sparked something wild inside her. The feel of him against her fingertips made it hard to think of anything else. She raked her fingertips over his chest, down his stomach and back up again, greedy to touch him everywhere.
For months, she’d missed this. Missed him. She’d grieved for what they’d lost. Because it had been ripped away from her in an instant, completely pulling the rug out from under her. Now he was right in front of her and she didn’t have the strength to push him away anymore.
His kiss went from just the barest touch to devouring her. His tongue teased against hers as he hoisted her up onto the counter. The way he kissed was as if he was starving. For her.
She spread her thighs, giving him more room to plaster himself against her. She couldn’t get enough of him. Moaning again as he gently sucked her bottom lip between his teeth, she clutched onto him.
His big body was vibrating with energy as she traced her fingers over the width of his shoulders. Seven, almost eight months without him had been horrible. And she could admit that she’d listened for any tidbits of gossip about him. But of course there were none. He didn’t even have any social media accounts. She’d been far too curious if he’d taken up with someone else and had been glad when she’d heard nothing.
When he’d admitted that he hadn’t been with anyone since her, it had shifted something inside her. Opened her up more to the idea of…them. Because despite the way things had ended between them, she’d never gotten over him. She still remembered the sweet, dedicated boyfriend who’d actually listened to her when she talked, who remembered exactly how she liked her coffee, who always opened doors for her, who’d been a cheeseball on Sundays with her, watching their favorite television show and getting just as into it as she did. And right now, that was all she wanted to remember. She didn’t want to think of anything else as he nibbled a path along her jaw.