Prime Target (18 page)

Reaching between us, I find her swollen clit and tease it. She whimpers, her thighs tightening. There is something very humbling yet powerful about holding a woman like this. To touch and stroke her, to make her come undone…

Everly’s mouth parts on a cry. “Roman!”

Out of nowhere my orgasm slams into me, shooting down my spine, and I thrust deep. “
Ya loobhloo tyeh byah fsyei dooshoi.” I love you with all my soul.
I do. I love her more than anyone else I’ve ever known.

Carefully, I lay her on the rug and join her. She runs a hand over my hip and I can’t help but pull her against me, her back to my chest.

Kissing her again, I murmur, “
Ya nyee mahgoo zhit byehs tyehbyah.” I can’t live without you.

“What did all of that mean?” she asks, her voice sleepy. Adorable.

“That you look beautiful when you orgasm.” That much is true. She is exquisite at that moment.

“Oh.” Her sleepy voice turns slightly bashful. “Thank you?”

I laugh, for the first time in days. “You’re welcome.”

*

We are awoken
by the sound of a vase crashing to the ground. At first, I lie there with her in my arms, enjoying the feel of Everly in my bed. Earthquakes, while rare, are known to happen here. Rarer still is a woman in my bed. After she had fallen asleep, I had carried her to my room and finally allowed my body to relax enough to join her.

The entire house shakes one more, windows rattling this time. I hear shouting, and the sound of something large crumbling. I sit upright in bed. “Not an earthquake.” I’m nearly positive that the house has just been invaded.

Everly blinks up at me, her eyes sleepy as she snuggles closer. “Lay back down with me, Roman. It’s too early to get up.”

Silently cursing, I leap out of the bed and grab the outfit that Gustav had brought up for her the day before.

“Get up and put this on,” I say sharply, tossing the clothes on the bed before I dress.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, while quickly dressing in dark jeans and a light blue sweater. She pulls her hair into a ponytail and then slips on her old shoes.

I check the door, and then inch toward the window, grabbing my gun along the way. “I’m not sure. If you need to use the bathroom, now is the time to do it.”

Eyes widening, Everly bolts for the bathroom. She’s out in no time. “What do I need to do?”

“Check the drawer by the bed. There should be a gun and clip, fully loaded.”

“Got it,” she says, just as the door bursts open.

A smoke bomb is thrown inside. I dive for Everly, covering her mouth with my hand as we fall to the floor. “Try not to breathe too deeply and follow me,” I whisper into her ear.

One thing I did see fit to put into this room was an exit. Everly and I crawl to the closet. Pulling her up, I hit the button hidden on the side of a display cabinet for shoes. The wall swings open, and I send her through first. But before I can join her, someone grabs me. I clamp my hand on their wrist and flip them over.

“Gustav?” Had he set off the bombs?

“A parting gift from V—”

I shoot him twice before he can get one bullet off. “You stupid man. Viktor sent you to your death.”

“Roman,” Everly whisper-shouts.

Stepping into the dark passageway, I hit the interior button and the door closes. I lean over, grabbing the bag I had packed in case of an emergency like this and pull out a flashlight, clicking on the light.

“This leads to the cottage on the far side of the estate,” I explain as we walk in nearly complete darkness. Only the flashlight highlights our path. “It connects to an underground tunnel.”

“What about when we get there?”

The house rocks again, sending us stumbling to one side. Dust and plaster fall on top of us. I look at Everly.

“Run.”

G
rabbing Everly’s hand,
I take off. The house begins to crumble behind us, like in an old Indiana Jones movie I’d watched as a child. However, Indiana, as the hero of the movie, was guaranteed an exit.

Unfortunately, this isn’t a movie set, and I will never be cast as the hero.

“Faster, love.”

Our feet pound against the ancient wood. Gunshots ring out, putting holes in the walls and allowing sunlight to shine through.

“They’re inside the wall,” a man shouts.

Fuck me. “Down.” I shove Everly to the floor, covering her body as bullets begin to rain down on us.

Everly starts to cry. “I don’t want to die.”

“It’s okay. We’ll be okay. I promise.” When the bullets stop, I jump to my feet and peer through the holes, then take aim. One. Two. Three clean shots to the throat. Each man goes down like a heavy sack of potatoes, clutching at his neck.

“Up on your feet,” I say, helping her to stand. I break out into a jog, noting with pride that, despite her tears, she’s keeping up and holding it together.

“Only a little bit further.”

The hardwood floors give way to hard-packed dirt. Roots dangle from above. Exhaling, I slow down and glance at her, putting one finger over my mouth. I have no idea if they’ve discovered this place. No one knew about my escape route, not even Gustav—the traitor.

Carefully, I climb the wooden stairs leading up into the kitchen and push up a little before assessing the area. It’s empty, the thick layer of dust indicating that no one has been in here for years.

I shove the entire hatch open and motion for Everly to join me. Wrapping my arms around her, I guide her to a rocking chair and place the bag in her lap. “Hold this, please.”

She looks up at me gratefully. “We made it.”

“Mostly.” I don’t want to get her hopes up. “We still have to get to the outbuilding and into my Land Rover.”

Parting the curtains, I check our surroundings. Nothing. Not a car or man in sight.

“Do you need longer or can we go now?” I ask, trying to be considerate.

Shooting to her feet, she swings the bag over her shoulder. “Now.”

“You would make a fine assassin.” Or she would once she learned how to defend herself properly.

Her brows crease together. “Except I don’t know how to use a gun, and I’ve never killed someone.”

My smile falls. I clear my throat and run a hand through my hair. “The gun knowledge, I can supply.”

“And the other?”

“I pray to God you never kill anyone.” I grab her hand once more, and head outside.

We make it to the outbuilding and into my SUV without incident. I start the engine and begin to drive in the opposite direction of the mansion.

“Oh my God,” Everly gasps, looking back.

I glance into my rearview mirror, watching in pure disbelief as the house we just left goes up in flames.

“If Agent—
Viktor
is dead,” Everly begins, “then who would do that to you—us?”

“I don’t know, but I am going to find out. What do you remember about the day I was shot?”

Everly lets out a mirthless laugh. “Which time?”

“Second.”

“After you were shot, all these men showed up. They were dressed in black, from head to toe. Viktor was more concerned about me, I think, than you, because he was the one to get me out of there.”

“He didn’t stay behind?”

“He told one of the men to get rid of the body.” She runs her hands over her face. “I’m sorry, but I don’t…I don’t remember much after that.”

“Don’t apologize. You’ve helped me more than you know.”

With a grim smile, I hold up my phone and text Ben. I need his help once more—I need to find out who Viktor was working for.

“I asked Ben to meet us in Barcelona, at the Hotel Majestic.”

Everly glances at me. “We can drive there?”

“We’ll take the train.”

“But I don’t have my passport. I have no idea where any of my things are.”

I train my gaze on the road. “That won’t be an issue.”

E
n route to
the train station, I make a stop at Foust’s Watch Repair to get a new I.D. for Everly. In less than an hour, we have the required documents.

She glances at the fake passport. “Eve Smith?”

“It’s easier for us to travel as honeymooners. We’ll attract less attention that way.”

With a sigh, she closes the passport and tucks it into the side pocket of the purse she’d bought while we waited for Foust to finish. There is another bag as well, filled with resort wear. I don’t think Everly cared what I bought for her. At this point, I think Everly is barely aware of what she’s doing, just following my instructions in order to stay alive, but I have no time to stop and really check on her.

There will be opportunity to rest on the train. It’s a fifteen-hour trip, and I’ve already purchased first class tickets. We will be able to shower and sleep along the way.

Pulling into the parking deck, I find a spot and cut the engine. Everly just sits there, even as I grab our things and open the door.

“Everly,” I say, touching her leg.

She jumps. “Oh. We’re here.”

Grabbing her purse, she gets out of the SUV. I finish gathering our things, keeping her in sight. This is not good. Although the worst hasn’t happened, yet. We haven’t been reported to Interpol as being terrorists on the loose. Still, the mindless way she’s acting right now is a dead giveaway that something is wrong.

Or she could be suffering from jetlag.

I seize upon that thought. I grab her shoulders and turn her to face me. “Listen to me. We met in Raleigh. You flew to join me in Berlin yesterday and we were married. Now we are travelling to Barcelona for our honeymoon.”

She blinks slowly. “Am I supposed to tell someone that?”

I kiss the top of her head, grab our bags and her hand. “Anyone who asks.”

*

Everly showers while
I unpack our bags and check my weapons. It’s easy enough to get through security when you know the right people. But the story I concocted for us is for those who can’t be paid to look the other way.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed in the sleeper car, I drop my head into my hands. I’ve never been this weary before…then again, I’ve never been on the run before, and certainly not with another person.

The door swooshes open and I look up as Everly steps inside, a bag on her arm. “I stopped in the dining car. They made me a to-go bag.”

I motion to the identical bag beside me. “I did the same.”

A little smile curves her lips, lighting up her face. “Guess we should have coordinated better, huh?”

Reaching out, I grab her arm and pull her between my legs. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.” Releasing my grip, I shift my hands to her hips and lean against her. “God, you feel good.”

She bends to one side, setting the bag down. Her fingers sift through my hair, soothing me. “Have you slept much?”

“Enough.”

“Roman, you need to sleep,” she says sternly.

“Sleep is for the dead.”
Which we will be if I don’t stay alert.

She steps out of my embrace. “Then call me a corpse, because I’m exhausted.”

I eye her, taking in the fatigue that clings to her like a shroud. “Are you feeling well, love?”

“I just escaped imminent death.” Her smile widens slightly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Of course I feel well.” Turning away, she grabs her bag, sets it on the table under our window, and begins to rummage through it.

I do the same with mine, and after a few minutes, we are eating in silence. “Everly…”

“Please don’t,” she says, wiping her mouth. “I’m clean, I’m full, and there’s a bed calling my name. And I’m fairly certain we’re safe aboard public transportation.”

Standing, I cross the small space to gather my things. “I’ll be in the shower.”

“Have fun.”

I exhale, thinking of her forced cheerfulness and the cramped space I’ll have to wash in. “Thanks,” I mutter.

By the time I return to our sleeping cabin, Everly is fast asleep. The bedcovers are pooled around her waist and her mahogany-colored hair is spread across the pillow. She’s wearing a small tank top that barely conceals her round breasts.

Desire surges inside of me, but I ignore my needs to cross the room and pull the blackout shade down. I have two choices at this moment. One, sleep in the bunk across from her. Two, sleep under her in the same bunk.