Mafia Soldier's Irresistible Lover (The Karzhov Crime Family Series Book 3) (2 page)

              Val gritted his teeth, willing his reaction to her inadvertent touch to dissipate.
Way to go, Val. You’re here to protect the little one, not jump into bed with her caretaker.

He had already picked up on her nervous chatter. He didn’t know what he could do to set her at ease—and frankly he wasn’t sure he didn’t like that she had noticed him.

Chelsea Barlow was one gorgeous woman. He liked her easy smile, and she had an air of confidence and optimism that he found alluring.

She knelt now next to the fireplace to stack wood in the fire box.

“Where do you want this?” he asked. She glanced up with a smile and his body hardened.  In another place, another time, he would not have wasted time seducing her into bed. But that was not his job—and he did not need distractions. It was his job to keep Darya—and therefore Chelsea—safe.

Standing, she dusted her hands. “The kitchen. There’s a large wood box in the mudroom.”

“I’ll find it.” He found the wood box, stacked his armful of logs inside it, and turned to find Chelsea standing in the kitchen, watching him. He raised an eyebrow at the frank appraisal she was giving his body.

Her cheeks colored. She started babbling about fixing dinner, and he decided he should give her time to find her composure. “I will wash before dinner, yes? And thank you for the meal.” He could not resist and so he took her hand and kissed the back of it. Calluses roughed the pads of her hand, and he was sorry for that. But he liked how she blushed at the attention he was giving her.

Upstairs, it took but a moment to unpack.

His guns, he kept. He also did a full investigation of his room. It was clean, tidy, a few antiques, a comfortable bed, and a view to the front of the house and the road. He would need to find a lookout for the back. If he was after Darya, he would come from the woods.

Pulling back a lace curtain, he looked out at Clear Springs, Colorado. He’d followed the mother’s trail here—a brief mention of Alexandra Usov’s funeral had led him here. And if he could track down the girl Danil was trying to kill, Danil could do the same.

But just how did Chelsea Barlow fit into this? Was she the innocent she seemed? What did she know of Darya’s past?

Heading downstairs, he heard Chelsea’s voice. “I’ll be up with dinner for you shortly.”

Val peaked into the room to see Chelsea kiss Darya’s head. Darya pulled a face—a very typical ten-year-old girl—but there had been something in Darya’s eyes that he had seen. The girl was no ordinary child—not if she was the daughter of Misha Ryndin.

Heading downstairs, Val stopped in a room that looked like a library. Bookcases lined the walls. This was where Chelsea had left her armful of logs for the fireplace. He heard noises from the kitchen and headed there.

He found Chelsea in front of the refrigerator, eggs, milk, butter, and something else in her arms.

Turning, she kicked the fridge door closed, sat the food on the counter and grabbed a loaf of bread. She turned, saw him and jumped back, a hand to her chest. “Jeeze—you’re sneaky.”

“I prefer to think I am quiet.” Intrigued at the urgency that seemed to lie just underneath her need to cook, he approached the large kitchen island and used his foot to pull out one of the bar stools. He seated himself even while he watched her continue her preparations. “What are you making?”

“Apple French toast for tomorrow’s breakfast. And, uh…quiche for dinner. Do you eat quiche??”

“Do you mean to say if I do I am not a real man?” Her cheeks reddened, and he took pity on her. “Do you always make breakfast the night before?”

“Not always.” Taking a breath, she returned to her cooking tasks. “If I can I like to get the dishes ready for the oven...it’s getting dark earlier each day, isn’t it. I love winter—the snow and everything. But I hate when it’s dark before dinnertime. I always want to curl up in a nice big warm bed.”

With someone?
Val thought.

He could have sworn she thought the same because she glanced at him, her color adorably high again.

He watched her move around the kitchen, confidently adding spices and other ingredients without ever using a measuring cup. Cooking had always intrigued him. Not just because he loved to eat, but things never seemed to go well for him in a kitchen. She glanced at him. “So, Val, you’re here to take pictures?”

“Yes and no.”

She glanced up with a questioning look. “How can the answer be both?”

“Well, I’m here to take some pictures, but more than that, I’m here to relax for a few weeks.”

“A few weeks? Wow—that’s, I mean it’s great you can take that much time off. But it’s a working vacation right? We get a lot of customers in the Rockies like that, but they…well, they just don’t stick around for weeks at a time.”

He watched her cover the dishes and stick them back into the refrigerator. “Your daughter is adorable.”

“Thanks, but she’s…well, legally it’s going to be a couple of weeks before she’s mine.” Val heard the slight note of doubt in her voice.
Ah, she worries about the adoption. She is not the optimist she tries to be.

Chelsea wiped her hands on a towel and leaned against the opposing counter. “Darya is a very special little girl. Her mother died a while back. I’ve been her nanny since she was born, so the court granted me temporary custody of her. Her mother’s will designated me her guardian and gave me this house, and hopefully in a few weeks the court will grant my adoption request.”

A soft smile took shape on Chelsea’s lips as she thought about the little girl she loved as if she were her own.

“She means much to you,” Val said.

Chelsea nodded. “Darya means the world to me. I just hope…I want to give her everything Alexandra wished for her…everything I—”

She broke off the words. But Val understood what she was not saying. Everything she had longed for herself as a child. He could see her past troubled her, so he asked, “But that would have put you as a young teenager when she was born. How did you become her nanny at such a young age?”

Chelsea chuckled, completely at ease now that they were talking about her favorite subject—Darya. “I just turned twenty-five—I was fifteen when Darya was born.”

Her expression grew solemn as her mind swam with unpleasant memories. “It was a really dark time in my life. I met Alexandra, Darya’s mom, at the hospital where she was giving birth. I’d been brought into the emergency room after being caught by the police. I stumbled into the middle of a turf war, and when I told the police I was trying to get away from someone, they thought I meant one of the rival gang members.

“My feet were kind of cut up from walking around without my shoes, and the guy I was running from heard I was being taken to the hospital and followed me there. When I saw him walk into the emergency room, I snuck out and ended up hiding out in Alexandra’s room.

“The ambulance had brought her in, ready to give birth, but the mom-and-baby unit was completely full, so they had her in the emergency room to deliver. She was all alone, and when she saw me sneak into her room, she grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let go.”

“I have to ask, what were you doing anywhere near a turf war?” Val instantly knew there was much more to the lovely young woman standing across the counter from him.

“I had the unfortunate luck to be born into a family that prides money over everything else. My mom died when I was eleven, and my brother tried to raise me, but then he got involved in a local gang and I tagged along.”

Val was shocked. This young woman belonged to a gang? He needed clarification, and he needed it now. Choosing his words carefully, he asked, “So, you belong to this gang?”

Chelsea shook her head, her auburn curls bouncing around her face. “No! Alexandra had Darya and then offered to shelter me until she left the hospital. She told the hospital staff that I was her younger sister, and they bought it. She saved my life.”

“How so?” Val was stunned at his reaction to hearing she’d been in danger. The urge to hit something was strong, and he clenched his fists tight before consciously relaxing them and spreading them on the countertop.

“The man who was looking for me wasn’t a very nice guy. Three days after I met Alexandra, he was killed in a shootout with the police. Due to complications, Alexandra had undergone a C-section, and when the hospital released her, she asked me to stay with her and I said yes.”

Val waited for her to continue, and when she didn’t, he prompted her, “And?”

Chelsea looked at her hands, then up at him. “And the rest is history.” Pushing off the counter, she tossed the dish towel and apron onto the counter and headed toward the staircase located in the front of the house. “Speaking of Darya, I need to go tuck her in. If I don’t, she’ll be up all night reading.”

“She likes books?” Val asked, trailing her out of the kitchen and back into the large living room that served as a larger dining room.

“Loves them. Currently, she is fascinated with the story of
Alice in Wonderland
.”

Val thought for a moment, then asked, “Isn’t that the story about the girl who fell down a rabbit hole and went on a really bad acid trip?”

Chelsea stopped and burst out laughing. “You know, I’ve never heard it explained that way, but that’s really good. Just don’t ever say that around Darya. I’ve tried to protect her as much as possible, but she’s curious about everything. She’s also under the current misconception that in order to fully appreciate the need to avoid something, she should explore it for herself. So let’s not mention drugs!”

Val chuckled. “Got it. My lips are sealed.”

Chelsea found her eyes drawn to his lips, which were currently at eye level as she stood on the first stair up. Before she knew it, she had licked her bottom lip, drawing Val’s attention to her own mouth. The heat in the room exploded, and when Val took a small step forward, she found herself unable to move away.

She raised her eyes to his and felt her breath catch in her chest.
What’s happening here? I just met this guy and suddenly I’m thinking about kissing him?
She was saved from exploring that thought further when she heard Darya calling for her. “Chelsea, I’m ready for bed.”

Shaking herself from the visual hold he had on her, she gave him a smile and stepped up the stairs backward. “I need to go tuck her in. Thanks for the help with the wood.” She turned and finished climbing the stairs, completely aware that as she did so, his eyes were fixed on her behind.

Val watched her vanish up the stairs, resisting the urge to follow her and see if the heat he’d just felt moments before was real or not. He took one step up, but then a sound on the front porch captured his attention.
Thud!

Val looked up the stairs once more, then reached beneath his sweater and pulled a small gun from his waistband.
Never be too cautious.
He turned the lights in the foyer down and edged toward the windows in the living room. He looked out on the porch, not seeing anything immediately, but then the sight of a booted foot lying on the porch caught his attention. Had another guest fallen?

He watched for a few moments, and when the foot made no movement, he headed toward the kitchen door, his weapon in hand as he cautiously opened the door.

Snow filled his shoes and the cold wind that had come up was chilling him to the bone as he quickly made his way around the side of the house, but he ignored both.
What are you doing outside in this weather without a jacket on?

He dismissed the chills that had him shivering and focused instead on the prone figure lying very still on Chelsea’s front porch. The figure belonged to a man, early twenties, with too long hair, clothing that looked like it had been worn for days, and…
Is that blood seeping from underneath the body?

Keeping his weapon handy, he glanced toward the tree-lined drive, spotting the older truck parked haphazardly off the side of the dirt drive.
Well, at least I know how he got here.

Val used the fingertips of one hand to check the man’s pulse, nodding when he felt the thready pulse after a few seconds. He gently turned the man over, then stopped and stared. The man’s facial features were identical to Chelsea’s.
What the hell is going on?

Before he could even attempt to answer that question, he heard the front door open and looked over as Chelsea approached him.

“Oh, my God! Terrence!” She raised watery eyes to Val, and he nodded in silent reply to her unspoken question.

“What happened?” She glanced toward his drawn weapon, then back to the prostrate man on her porch.

“After you went upstairs, I heard a noise. It was this character hitting the deck. I snuck around the side of the house to check things out and found him lying here. He’s bleeding, but I haven’t figured out why yet.”

“Bleeding!? Where? Let me see.”

Val intercepted her as she made to squat down by the body. “Wait! Let me see what’s wrong with him while you go call the authorities.”

She frantically shook her head. “No cops! He wouldn’t want to involve the cops.”

“You know this man?” Val asked, watching her eyes to verify if she was being honest.

Chelsea nodded and raised concerned eyes to his. “He’s my brother. My twin brother. A man I never thought I’d see him again.”