Prime Target (9 page)

“I bet this isn’t how you thought our night would end,” she says softly.

I run my hand down her back, and then back up again. “I don’t know about that. We
are
in bed together.”

I can feel her smile. “I like it when you tease me.”

“Because I do it so often,” I point out.

“That’s what makes it special. It’s what makes
you
special to me,” she says and my heart beats funny. I’ve never been special to anyone in my entire life.

The jet shakes, but mercifully, it does not drop. Everly tenses, and I keep stroking her back, working my way under her sweater and undoing the back clasp of her bra. God, the way she feels under my palm—so soft.

Mine.

She
feels
like mine.

I banish the thought away and concentrate on what I can do for her. “Do you need assistance to the—?”

“I’m fine,” she says. However, the tightness in her body has transferred to her voice. “If I breathe through my nose, I won’t puke again.”

She begins to shake, and I press a kiss into her hair. “Relax,
solnyshko
. Relax.”

“
Solnyshko
?”

Damn. I hadn’t meant to let that slip. My nickname for her was to remain private. “It’s Russian for sunshine. My little sunshine.”

“Kind of like the song?”

“There’s a song?” I ask. My knowledge of American pop culture is sorely lacking.

She laughs a little. “There’s always a song.”

I consider this. “When you feel better, you can sing it to me.”

“When I feel better,
you
can sing it to
me
,” she counters.

With a grunt, I reply, “I don’t sing.”

“You will for me.”

Yes, for her, I would. “Perhaps.”

Her fingers travel up my chest to touch my face. “You don’t have to, Roman. You know that, right? I’d never ask you to embarrass yourself for me.”

“I thought we were teasing one another,” I say lightly, though everything inside of me wants to take her away from all of this. Everything inside of me is screaming for me to tell the pilot to take us anywhere but to my grandfather.

“We are,” she says, her voice adorably sleepy. “It’s unbelievable, but we are.” She blows out a breath. “I can’t wait to meet your family, Roman.”

I can, for a thousand years if necessary. I wish she wasn’t meeting them at all. “Are you getting drowsy, love?”

“A little, but don’t stop teasing. Don’t stop talking,” she says, her voice full of affection I could never earn.

Once more, I press a kiss to the top of her head and begin to speak of my grandfather’s home, of the horses he raises, and the massive hounds that have run the place. Of the food and the rich land that surrounds his estate.

Despite the easy flow of my words, a sort of dread settles within the pit of my gut. I know, without a doubt, that Everly and I are heading toward death.

But whose death is the question.

My half-brother, mine…or worse, Everly’s.

B
y the time
we land in Paris, Everly is sleeping soundly. She’s curled up around me, her legs tangled in mine.

Although I know it is futile, I wish for mornings like this.

This is the hardest part of getting involved with Everly, because now I know the feel and taste of her. I know
her
. Before, I only knew her scent and smile, not her inner thoughts. Only what she chose to share with me each Wednesday.

When she is safe, and I leave her, I know what misery awaits. The bleakness and emptiness that will consume my soul without the sunshine she provides.

I take a sustaining breath, drawing in her scent.

It’s a pity the room remained shrouded in darkness during our flight, because I would have liked to watch her sleep. I would have enjoyed memorizing the way she looked while dreaming.

Perhaps she is still dreaming. Perhaps she dreams of me, of our time together, and what happened between us, before we were so rudely interrupted.

My dick grows hard at the memory of her perfect breasts, her hand stroking me, and her intoxicating kisses. With a grimace, I adjust myself and endure my painfully hard erection.

In any case, I allowed myself to sleep for a short period of time. It has to be enough for what we’ll face once we’re at my grandfather’s. He is not one to tolerate surprises, not even from a favorite grandson, though he has a taste for beautiful women. The one lying in my arms certainly fits the description, but more than that, she’s beautiful on the inside.

So, there is a chance that he
might
allow us to come through the heavily guarded gates and into the house unharmed.

As I rub my eyes, it hits me. Vladimir—my father—needs to be told as well. Perhaps I should meet with him, before we travel to my grandfather’s. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I send him a text, asking to meet.

Everly burrows into me, her cold nose pressing into my neck.

With a thick exhale, I extricate myself, leaving the warmth of her embrace to put on my shoes, and check the cabin. My Glock is secure under my shirt, in the waistband of my trousers, and I feel a modicum of security.

The main cabin is empty, and the door to the plane wide open for us to disembark to a private lounge for drinks and food, if we so desire.

The fine hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I carefully pull out my gun.

“Nikolai,” Viktor says as he walks inside, arms loosely hanging by his sides. “How fortuitous to run into you in Paris.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I keep my gun visible. Judging by Viktor’s stance and words, he is here to relay a message, not to be on my side. It is the way of things in our world. “You have information for me?”

Nodding once, he scans the room. His dark gaze notes the purse Everly left behind. “Where is she?”

“In bed.” I take a step to the right, fully blocking his view of the hallway that leads to her and refusing to say more.

“An assassin is quiet in all things, Nikolai. He allows his prey to spill his secrets before he drains him.” My grandfather looks upon me with pride, and then at the body on the floor, blood forming a grotesque halo around the head. “Brilliant work, Kolya.”

Is Viktor my prey?

Viktor mutters a curse. “Those who desire your services sent me to check on you. To make sure that Ms. Andrews is with you, and you are agreeable to their terms.”

Cold dread digs deeper inside of me. “First, I’m taking her to meet Grandfather.”

“You can’t get out of this. Not even the great Dmitri Romanov can save your half-brother,” Victor assures me.

Perhaps he can’t. Or he will refuse to do so. But it’s worth a shot to find out if he knows a hit has been placed on his grandson. It’s worth risking everything to get his help, if it means that Everly remains alive.

I slash a hand through the air. “
Blyad
. It was the only way I could get her to come.”

Viktor laughs. “An old-fashioned abduction too good for you?”

“After we’d been seen by half the city walking around her neighborhood, and then eating in a popular restaurant—yes.”

Viktor runs a hand along the wood grain on the interior walls of the cabin, his gaze on me. His mouth twists a little. “How is Ms. Andrews feeling?”

Feeling
? Oh, fuck me. The attendant had produced the pills she’d needed a little too quickly, but I had allowed my concern to override my natural distrust.

“What did you do?” I start for the bedroom, but Viktor catches me by the arm, twisting it behind my back. Sharp pain radiates from my shoulder, as if I’ve been shot once again.

“I did my job.”

There’s a pinch in my neck, and I go lax. The room spins. I close my eyes to stop it.

Viktor’s voice is barely audible as he says, “Now do yours before Ms. Andrews is killed.”

My body becomes light, insubstantial, like I’m made of air. My cheek connects with the carpet, a jarring surprise. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I force them to focus on Viktor. He’s bent over me, his face impassive.

“You have two weeks,” he says, straightening.

My world goes dark.

*

I wake up
with a start and a sharp intake of air. The room is cold and warm at the same time. Rubbing my eyes, I force them open, startled to find myself in a bedroom.
In bed.

My clothes are missing and my head hurts like a bitch, but I’m otherwise fine.

However, none of that matters.

“Everly,” I whisper, grabbing the covers. I have to find her. I have to—

“What time is it?” a groggy voice asks.

I freeze, then turn my head. I blink and then blink again. “Everly,” I choke out, and then pounce on her, turning her face this way and that. I search her beautiful face, her pretty eyes, and glowing skin to make sure she’s real.

You’re not dead.
“You can’t be real.” Relief fills me, and I want to kiss her. I want to press her down into the mattress and have my way with her. But I can’t. Instead, I sit back on my legs, scrubbing my face with the heel of my hand.

A smile curves her lips. “I’m real.” Her gaze flicks down my body, to where I’m straddling her legs, and then back up again. “Nice pajamas.”

Reaching out, I touch the lace of her bra, and then trail my fingers down her body to the panties that match. She sucks in a breath, her stomach contracting. She’s a vision in pink and white lace. I swallow. Hard. “Very real,” I murmur.

“Where are we?” she asks, leaning up on her elbows. Her round breasts bounce with the movement. “I don’t really remember that much about last night, once I passed out. I mean, I vaguely remember riding in the car to the hotel and changing into this, but that’s about it.”

Cursing myself for a fool, I can only send up a prayer of thanks that she’s unharmed.

“Not that I really care right now, because you’re naked,” Everly says, pulling me out of my head. The tips of her fingers touch my bare thigh.

She is nearly nude; only the thin barrier of her lingerie separates us.

“Does my state of undress bother you?”

Her cheeks turn pink. “Nope.”

This is insane. I should get out of bed and check our surroundings, find out where the hell we are, and get Everly to safety. Her hand wraps around my cock and I jolt as if she’d struck me with lightning. A groan slips past my lips.

“Stay in bed with me, Roman,” she says, beginning a leisurely stroke down my shaft. “I feel much better today.”

Get out of bed, you bloody arsehole.

Instead of leaving, I thrust my hips forward, wanting more. Wanting her to fist me harder. “Love, I—” She runs her tongue over her lips, and I grab her by the shoulders, pulling her to me. “You are playing a dangerous game.”

Her emerald gaze darkens. “Show me.”

I push her back down and slowly tug her panties off, placing my hand over her mound of dark curls. Dipping two fingers inside, I stroke her until her eyes close.

“Open,” I order.

Her lashes flutter open, and I smile. “You are beautiful.”
And alive.

She runs her gaze over my body. “And you are sexy,” she says. “Who knew you were hiding all this under those suits?”

I stretch out beside her without interrupting the rhythm of my fingers. “So perfect.” I kiss the swell of the breast closest to me. “Soft.” I run my tongue down the side. Gripping the lace with my teeth, I give it a light tug. Her breast pops free, nipple hardening as it is exposed to the cold air. I cover it with my mouth, sucking and licking while she moans and writhes on the bed.

“Not like last time,” she says, suddenly sitting up and dislodging my fingers.

I’m completely taken by surprise by her actions. So taken, that she’s straddling my lap and reaching behind her before I can react. Her bra falls to her elbows. She pulls it off the rest of the way, then throws it behind her.

As she leans down, her hair creates an intimate curtain. “You are beautiful.” She kisses my lips. “Hard.” She grinds against me, and I reach up to grab her hips. “So perfect.”

She bites one of my nipples, and I growl. “Careful.”

Peering through her black lashes at me, her eyes sparkle with mischief. “You like it rough.”

“Not this time.”

She frowns and sits up. I scoot back to the headboard and do the same, but instead of a frown, I try to give her a tender look. It’s not an easy thing to do, because, for me, tenderness is an alien emotion.

Cupping the back of her neck, I bring her to me. “Kiss me, Everly.”

Obviously confused, she hesitates, but as a man trained in patience, her hesitation doesn’t bother me.

“Don’t be shy,” I say, trying to coax her closer. “I won’t bite…this time.”

Lush lips curving into a smile, she lowers her mouth to mine. Her fingers delve into my hair, flexing as she finds purchase there. “Do you have protection?”

I lean back slightly. I know what I packed, but the whereabouts of said bag—no clue. “Yes, but I have no idea where my bag is at the moment.”

“It’s okay, my purse is right beside us.” She leans to one side and produces a condom. “I bought this in the airport when you were talking with the pilot.”