Game Over (The Baltimore Banners Book 2) (9 page)

     A shadow crossed his face and he looked away, running his thumb across the blade of his stick as he shook his head. "No, I have no children. And my family...they are gone."    

     Bobbi stepped out of the way to let several players pass, then stepped closer to Nikolai, resting her hand on his arm. His muscles tensed under her touch. "I'm sorry."

     Nikolai looked at her, and her heart clenched at the sadness he let her see deep in his eyes. He blinked and shook his head, and that quickly the sadness was gone, replaced by a slight smile. "Do not be sorry,
moe krasivejshee
. Now I must go shower. You go wait in your grand office and I will find you, then we will go to our meeting."

     "Meeting?" Bobbi mentally reviewed the schedule for the day, then shook her head. "I don't have any meeting down for today."

     "We are meeting with my agent. He called this morning, and I told him I would see him after practice."

     His agent? Anxiety swept over her, and she knew this could be a perfect opportunity to get more information. She nodded, then shook her head. "Nikolai, I'm supposed to be your personal assistant. Keeping your schedule straight is about the only thing I have to do. You should have let me know."

     "And I just did." He gave her a quick kiss then nudged her gently. "Now go, and I will see you when I am not so smelly."

     She watched as he disappeared through the locker room doors, then turned and rushed down the hall to her closet. Nikolai didn't take long to shower, which didn't leave her much time to once again review the information Denny had given her in addition to preparing for the meeting with his shark of an agent.

     Denny was certain there was a connection there, but she still hadn't seen it. Was there really? Maybe meeting the agent would help. And if there
was
a connection...? She wasn't sure yet how, but she was going to find out.

**

     Bobbi was sick to her stomach and doing all she could not to show it as she sat back in the oversized chair and watched the scene in front of her. Nikolai had been given a multi-page contract to sign. He had barely been given any details, hadn't asked any questions. He sat there, the contract on the shiny glass desk in front of him, and watched his agent with a broad, empty smile.

     It was a great deal, Walter Jacobs had assured him in a smooth voice, all but dismissing her as soon as Nikolai introduced them. The endorsement was a lucrative one, the company was offering solid terms. All Nikolai had to do was wear a particular brand of skates for a few weeks and pose for some pictures while he was wearing them.

     And, oh yeah, sign on the bottom line.

     My God, Nikolai hadn't even asked how much it was for!

     She glanced at his agent, sitting smugly behind the massive chrome and glass desk, nestled in this oversized opulent office with a breathtaking view of the Inner Harbor. His suit and loafers were high-dollar Italian, his hands were manicured, and his complexion the result of regular facials. She'd bet any amount of money that he drove something flashy, expensive, and inappropriate.

     Bobbi closed her eyes and pictured Nikolai's row home, economically furnished, basic. She opened her eyes as he reached for the gold pen—real gold, of that she was certain—and held it between his strong, calloused fingers. He flipped to the last page of the contract and positioned the pen at the bottom line, putting the point against the crisp white sheet.

     Bobbi shot from the chair.

     "No!" She yanked the pen out of his hand and sat back down, clutching it tightly in front of her, her heart hammering in her chest. Walter Jacobs nearly jumped out of his own chair and lunged across the desk, his shock obvious before he stopped himself and sat back down. Nikolai merely looked at her, one brow raised in calm question.

     "You do not like this,
moe krasivejshee
?" His voice was as casual as if he had been asking about the weather, while she was still shaking on the inside.

     She shook her head, her fist still closed in a death grip around the pen. "No. No, I don't."

     Nikolai leaned back in his chair, an amused smile on his face, the contract all but forgotten on the desk in front of him. "You...how you say...do not like these skates?"

     Bobbi wanted to kick him, and shot him a look that let him know she was annoyed with the deepening Old Country act. "No. I...
how you say
...don't care about these skates! What I care about is the contract."

     Nikolai quickly looked down, hiding his smile at her obvious sarcasm. Walter Jacobs, however, looked like he was close to having a massive coronary. His full face had the unhealthy glow of an overripe tomato, and his dark eyes bulged as he stared at her, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish. Bobbi truly wished he would keel over, right then and there.

     "Now see here, Miss. This is a solid, lucrative agreement. I have been Mr. Petrovich's agent for eight years, and only have his best interest at stake."

     Bobbi clenched her fists in her lap and refrained from lunging across the desk and tearing his lying lips right off his face. The conniving little bastard. But she couldn't.

     Because she didn't know what she knew. Hell, she didn't
know
anything. Not for certain. And there was nothing she could do. Not here, not now. She had already said and done too much, could have possibly risked everything with her careless, impulsive actions.

     She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, knowing that as much as she wanted to scream and fight, it would accomplish absolutely nothing. She wasn't supposed to know what she knew and if she wasn't careful, she would raise suspicion.

     Had already raised suspicion.

     "I'm sorry." She almost gagged on the apology as she opened her eyes and faced Jacobs. "I'm sure it is a good contract, but you never mentioned how much it was worth to Nikolai. It just makes me nervous when people sign things without discussing the specific finances." She slid a meaningful look at Nikolai, willing him to understand her message.

     "
Moe krasivejshee
, you are worried about me, no? Do not be. Mr. Jacobs has always taken care of me."

     Yeah, she just bet he had. Her heart sunk at the look on Nikolai's face, at the façade of a smile on his lips, at the shadows in his eyes that he was trying so hard to hide from her. And she realized...he
knew
. Damn him, he knew exactly what he was doing! But why?

     "Nikolai..."

     He shook his head then faced his agent. "You will leave us, no? I wish to speak in private."

     Walter Jacobs muttered something she couldn't hear, his impatience and annoyance clear as he stood and walked across his office. The door closed with a loud click, leaving them in silence.

     Nikolai let out a heavy sigh, then stood and crossed to her. He knelt on one knee in front of her, taking the pen from her hand and placing it on the desk. Then he held both of her hands in each of his, and brought them to his lips.

     "My beautiful one, you look so sad. Do not be. There are things you do not understand, things I cannot tell you, but trust that I know what I am doing. Trust that this is what must be done."

     Bobbi's stomach dropped at his words, spoken in whispered Russian. She wanted to ask him what he meant, what it was that had to be done. But she couldn't. "I hate when you do that. You know that."

     He laughed, a soft sound of genuine humor, and kissed the knuckles of her hands once more. "I know you do,
moj dosadnyj malen'kij bich
." His fingers tightened against hers, squeezing, then he brought her hands up and placed one on either side of his face. She felt his warm flesh against her palms, felt her skin tingle at the contact as he held her hands in place. He turned his head, kissing first one palm then the other, then slid her hands down to his chest, over his heart, and held them there. His eyes gazed deep into hers, searching.

     "Do you trust me, my Bobbi?"

     "Nikolai—"

     "Do you trust me?" His quiet voice wrapped around her, soft, demanding. And seeking her assurance, so vulnerable that she had to blink back the watery film that suddenly appeared behind her eyes.

     And God help her, she did trust him. She more than trusted him—she was falling in love with him. The realization slammed into her, made her breath catch. She nodded, unable to do more than that, unable to even speak.

     He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss so gentle, so caring and trusting that tears sprang to her eyes. Her breath hitched again when he pulled away, but only far enough that he could rest his forehead against hers. A small smile curved his mouth upward.

     "Good. That is good."

     He stood, taking his heat and reassurance with him, then grabbed the pen from the desk. A sad emptiness filled Bobbi as she watched him lean over and sign his name on the contract, the signature as strong and bold as the man himself.

     And she couldn't help but feeling as if she had just let him down in the most basic of ways.

     Nikolai grabbed her hand and pulled her from the chair, then led her across the office and opened the door. Walter Jacobs pressed a button on the cell phone that he had been talking on and dropped it into his pocket then looked up at them, a frown creasing his forehead as he glanced from one to the other.

     "I have signed your papers, and now we leave," Nikolai's hearty voice boomed out so loudly that Bobbi actually winced. A smirk brightened the agent's face and she wished she had a harpoon so she could shoot the shark. Because that was what she reminded him of: a toothy, untrustworthy predator.

     "Good, good. Glad to see your lady friend wasn't able to talk you out of such a good deal." He walked over and pounded Nikolai on the back, just two good buddies sharing a moment. Bobbi bit back a gag as he moved closer to her and leveled a flat stare at her that was at odds with his oily smile. "We wouldn't want anything to endanger our relationship, now would we?"

     The threat was clear to Bobbi, despite being spoken with such casual good charm. A chill prickled her skin and she tugged on Nikolai's hand, wanting nothing more than to just leave.

     But he had become immovable. She tore her gaze away from Jacobs, who was still watching her with those flat eyes, and looked at Nikolai. His face had become a mask of cool warning, a feral and dangerous fire flashing in his eyes. Tension radiated from him, and he moved so quickly she didn't have time to grab onto him, to stop him.

     He stepped between her and his agent, forcing him back with his sheer size. He reached back with one hand and gently pushed her away, even as he stepped closer to Jacobs and spit out a string of Russian in a growl so low and fast she almost had trouble keeping up with it.

     But she had caught enough to know that Nikolai had just threatened Walter Jacobs, warned him that she was off-limits and that nothing would happen to her. She kept her face carefully blank as she peered around his large back to see if the words had any effect on the man.

     She couldn't tell if he understood Russian, or if it was just the look on Nikolai's face coupled with the tone of his voice that helped him understand the meaning. Regardless, he took a step back and held up both hands in the universal sign of surrender, a smile plastered on his face.

     "No worries, Nikolai, no worries. And no harm meant." He leaned forward and patted Nikolai on the shoulder, his buddy once more. Nikolai shrugged away from him, grabbed Bobbi's hand, and practically pushed her to the waiting elevator, keeping her in front of him until the doors closed. Then he grabbed her and crushed her against him in such a fierce embrace that her breath left her in a rush and she thought her back would crack from the force.

     "Nikolai—" His name came out as a croak, and he immediately eased his hold on her. Eased, but didn't let go. He continued to hold her against him, her head against his chest, one large hand rubbing circles along her back. She could hear the pounding of his heart in her ear, could feel the fast steady beat against her cheek. A second went by before he abruptly stepped away from her. He grabbed her face in both hands and kissed her, then stared into her eyes with his own searing, frantic gaze.

     "You must make me a promise,
moe krasivejshee
." The ferocity of his voice scared her, and she could do nothing more than nod. "If you should ever see that man again, you must run away. Do not let him get close to you. Do not let him talk to you. You must run away and let me know. Do you promise?"

     "Nikolai—"

     "Promise me!"

     "Yes, I promise. Okay? I promise." He pulled her against him again and she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tightly. His anxiety bled into her, feeding her own, and she tried to swallow back the fear caused by it. "But why? Tell me what happened. I don't understand."

     "I know you don't,
moe krasivejshee
. I cannot explain now. Just know that he is a dangerous man, and more than what he seems." He continued holding her until the elevator stopped, the doors finally opening onto the extravagant lobby floor. Nikolai took a deep breath then stepped back, his hand wrapped firmly around hers, and led her to the expansive glass doors, their steps loud against the dark marble floor.

     His anxiety eased as soon as they stepped into the bright afternoon sun and turned away from the building. His grasp on her hand gentled, and was no longer quite as urgent. They walked in silence, hand-in-hand, for several blocks. Bobbi didn't even think to ask where he was going, just sensed that he needed to put some distance between them and the office they had just left.

     And she was perfectly happy with the aimless pace he was setting, because it gave her a chance to think back over everything that had happened and try to sort it out. Something very telling had just occurred, and the obvious ramifications were disturbing.

     Nikolai knew his contracts were wrong; he
knew
. Which meant Walter Jacobs was holding something over Nikolai to get his cooperation, something important, something that Nikolai didn't think she'd understand.

     Nikolai had immediately understood his agent's implied threat and had jumped in to protect her. He warned her that his agent was a dangerous man, and to stay away from him.

     But why? What did Walter Jacobs have to hold over Nikolai's head? What was important enough to demand such quiet acceptance of the extortion of millions of dollars?

     She glanced sideways at him, studying his strong profile in the late afternoon light. The play of sun and shadow accented his chiseled features, his cheekbones standing out in stark relief. Her heart tripped and rolled at the sight of his rugged good looks, at the realization that had slammed into her in his agent's office.

     Bobbi stumbled and she would have fallen if Nikolai hadn't wrapped his arm quickly around her waist until she regained her balance. She mumbled an apology and pulled away, staring up at him.

     "Tell me what's going on, Nikolai. Please."

     He looked down at her, a shadow filling his eyes as he shook his head. "It is not important
moe krasivejshee
." He reached for hand again but she stepped back.

     "It is. Nikolai..." She took a deep breath and let it out in a rush, knowing she was taking a huge chance. "He's threatening you, isn't he? Is that why you just signed everything over to him?"

     Nikolai's face went carefully blank and he shook his head. "You know nothing. Come, let's walk." He grabbed her hand and led her several more feet before she pulled him to a stop. He turned and looked at her again, his expression guarded. Bobbi took another deep breath then stepped closer to him, reaching up to frame his face with her hands and leaning forward, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.

     "You asked me if I trusted you, and I said yes. I shouldn't, though. I barely know you. But I do. Can't you trust me?"

     Nikolai's eyes searched hers, but he carefully hid any emotion from her. Instead he pulled her roughly to him and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, demanding and possessive. She curled her hand in his shirt and leaned further into him, her breath coming in harsh grasps when he pulled away. "I trust you
moe krasivejshee
, but there are things I cannot and will not share with you."

     "Nikolai, please. Let me help you. What he's doing is extortion. Tell me why. Let me help you." Bobbi let her desperation show in her voice, not caring if she was crossing lines and breaking rules. If she could just get him to open up to her, she could help him.

     But he wouldn't. And she knew saying anything had been a mistake, because his expression changed, becoming harder, dangerous. Cold and distant.

     "No. You know nothing. There is nothing you can do. You are never to speak of this again." He grabbed her hand but she pulled out of reach and stepped back, staring at him through her own mask of indifference. He stopped and looked at her, his eyes softening. "
Moe krasivejshee
—"

     "Don't. Just...don't say anything else. I need to get back, I have work to do." She turned to walk away then stopped, realizing she was supposed to stay with him at all times. She turned back around and watched as he lowered a mask of indifference over his face—but not before she saw the raw emotion burning in his eyes.

     Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest and she took a step toward him, knowing that bridging the new emotional distance between them would be much harder than closing the physical distance right now.

     There was still more than a foot separating them when two young men hurried around the corner, paying them too much attention as they passed close by. A tingle of warning itched at the base of her skull and Bobbi tensed the same time as Nikolai did. She turned to watch the two men, her hand easing into her bag, reaching for the pistol Denny insisted she now carry. The pistol she now shot with ease and without thought or emotion, the pistol she would use with no hesitation.

     Her fingers brushed the cool metal of the grip just as something hard closed over her arm. She turned in surprise, realizing that Nikolai was grabbing her, a look of determination on his face. His hold on her tightened even more and he pulled her toward him, turning her away from the young men and pushing her in the opposite direction.

     Bobbi had been about to break from Nikolai's hold, her hand trying to close once more around the gun in her bag, when a car tore around the corner, heading toward them.

     Then the next few seconds flew by in a blur that happened much too slowly.

     The men that had just passed them pointed and yelled. Pops echoed around them. Bobbi pushed against Nikolai, trying to shield him as he pushed against her, cradling her body against his as he forced her down. Bobbi sensed more than saw whir of movements and sound: chips of brick and concrete flying behind them, a spray of red, a guttural sound of agony. Her hand was yanked free of the bag before it closed around the gun, her body falling forward and colliding with the concrete sidewalk, her head snapping backward as she hit, hard. Her teeth jarred and her vision swam, went black then gray as a heavy weight slammed into her back, on top of her, knocking the breath out of her.

     Deafening silence followed the barrage of sound and action, drawn out, never-ending. Then, little by little, the world re-tilted and things fell back into place, piece-by-piece.

     Traffic sounds, a blaring horn.

     Running footsteps. A scream of disbelief, a scream of agony cut too short.

     A deep inhale of breath, the harsher breathing of exertion.

     The distant sound of a wailing siren.

     Bobbi forced her eyes open and saw only black. She bit back her panic and forced herself to breathe, to focus. Her vision cleared and she realized the black in front of her eyes was the asphalt of the road beneath her.