Russian Enforcer's Reluctant Bride (3 page)

She’d just started descending the stairs, and when the balaclava-clad heads of three men came into view as they barged into the house, she fell down, her feet and hands struggling for purchase as she desperately scrabbled away from the source of the horror.

When the eyes of the first man landed on her, and he resolutely set foot for the stairs, she shrieked again in abject fear, her body trembling and her limbs refusing to move for the split second he made his intentions clear by positioning a large sledgehammer in his hands.

Menacingly, he darted up in her direction, the two other men disappearing into the living room. The sound of crashing plates and toppling furniture told her they were about to trash the place, and when the man finally reached her and towered over her, the sledgehammer in hand, she thought she could have died of fear.

CHAPTER 5

There was a rumbling sound as Joanna reared back, and when she looked down, she saw that Ram was ready to defend her honor, snarling and yapping at the intruder. The man seemed undeterred by the fluffy mutt, for he now stood over her, the hammer poised, gazing down at her with a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place, but then his eyes were all she could discern behind the mask. They were remarkable. A liquid brown. For a brief moment, she thought they looked familiar, but then she dismissed the thought.

“Joanna Royale?” he suddenly boomed.

In her perturbation that he would know her name, she faltered, “Y-y-yes?”

“Where is your husband—the rat Jonathan Hartley?”

“I-I-he left…” She swallowed uncomfortably, fear paralyzing her vocal chords. “He left me. Moved back East.”

“Where?” the man barked.

“Wa-Washington. He moved to Washington.”

For a moment, the man was silent, and Joanna held her breath. It seemed her life hung in the balance, depending on the man’s decision. Then, in a softer voice, he asked, “When was this? When did he leave you?”

“T-t-three weeks ago,” she stammered. “He-he met someone online. Said he didn’t want to live with me anymore. Said he’d grown fond of this girl and wanted out. Said our marriage was a sham, and he couldn’t stand the sight of me.” A sob escaped her throat as she rambled on, uncertain why she was spilling her life’s greatest sorrow to this unknown assailant.

Absently, her hand stole down to Ram, and she picked him up and pressed him to her chest. Only now did she notice the two other men had joined the first one, and were standing in the hallway, listening to her sad tale.

“Do you know the name of this other woman?”

“Felicia,” she blurted out. The name was imprinted on her mind. She shook her head sadly. “Don’t know her family name, though I guess pretty soon it will be Hartley. It won’t be long before the divorce is final.”

The man gestured at the hallway. “This place is Jonathan’s?”

At these words, a niggling suspicion tugged at the edge of her mind. His voice. It sounded so familiar!

“It’s a rental. I’m moving away myself.” She held out her hand in an encompassing gesture. “Take whatever you want. I won’t be needing it anymore.” The three men stood rooted to the spot, immobile and majestic, inspiring both fear and awe. She shrunk a little more inside herself, and when the silence became oppressive, she muttered, “What are you going to do to me?”

Finally, the man she had identified as the leader of the outfit, spoke. “Nothing. You are free to go. Our business is with your ex-husband, not with you, Miss Royale.”

“What is your business?” she asked, afraid to look into the man’s eyes for fear he would take offense.

“Jonathan Hartley took our money but failed to pay it back. Now we take what is owed us.”

This surprised Joanna. She hadn’t known that her husband owed money to anyone. She did remember he had big plans a few months back. Wanted to turn an old rundown hotel in the heart of town into a bed and breakfast. The plans had never materialized, Jonathan always having trouble with follow-through.

So had he taken this project further than he’d let on? Had he borrowed from a disreputable lender and failed to inform her? It wouldn’t be the first time he kept things from her. Prime example being his budding relationship with Little Miss Hotpants.

This was different, however. This implicated her. As long as they were married, she was responsible for whatever he owed. It wasn’t just his ass on the line, it was hers as well.

“Wait,” she called out, understanding dawning. “How much did he owe you?”

“It really is none of your concern,” the man spoke tersely. He gestured to the others and started descending the stairs now.

“Is this about the hotel?”

The man halted, and turned back. “What do you know about that?”

She gestured feebly. “Just… that he wanted to buy the place and turn it into a bed and breakfast. He lacked the funds to do so, of course, and didn’t mention it anymore, so I figured he’d dropped the idea.”

The man stared at her for the space of a few seconds, then suddenly brought his hand to his face, and started removing the mask.

Her eyes went wide with terror. She knew what this meant. The moment she would see his face, it would be the end for her. They would never let her walk out of there alive. “No—don’t!” she pleaded. “Just forget what I said. I really don’t want to know. I’m sorry I even mentioned the hotel.” She squeezed her eyes shut and covered them with her hands in a gesture of desperation.

The man’s voice was surprisingly soft. “It’s all right, Joanna. I won’t hurt you. Like I said. Our business is with Jonathan—not you.”

Finally, she dared lower her hands but was still afraid to look up. “Please don’t hurt me,” she muttered.

“We won’t. You have my word,” the voice came, and then a hand cupped her chin and forced her to raise her eyes. The moment she saw his face, she gasped in surprise. It was the man—the same man she’d met in the forest.

“Vitaly,” she gasped. “What—“

“There are things about me you don’t know, Joanna.”

“Don’t tell them, please,” she implored. “I…” She shook her head. “I don’t want to know.”

“I want you to know,” he began, then directed a pointed stare at his two associates. They immediately retreated into the living room, closing the door behind them. The moment they were gone, Vitaly took a seat on the staircase and heaved a deep sigh. “My name is Vitaly Loganov. That much you know. What you don’t know is why I’m here, threatening to destroy your house.”

“You have business with Jonathan. Bad business,” she ventured.

His face hardened. “Joanna, your ex-husband stole from us. Half a million dollars of our money is gone because of him. We are not in the habit of allowing this to happen. The moment we catch up with him, he will either pay us back our money or pay with his life.”

“But—why would he do such a thing? What happened to the money?”

“Jonathan, I’m sorry to say, has a gambling problem. He borrowed money to invest in a business venture—the hotel—but then lost it. Poker. When he realized he would never be able to repay us, he disappeared.”

She was starting to understand. All the nights Jon had stayed out late, sometimes not even returning before dawn. He’d said he’d been speaking with investors, discussing his plans for the hotel. Instead, he’d been holed up in dens of inequity, gambling away other people’s money. Dangerous people.

“So… you’re an investor?”

His lips quirked up into a half-smile. “In a way, yes.” He unexpectedly placed a hand on her arm. “Joanna, you need to understand that Jonathan didn’t leave you because of another woman.” He eyed her intently, his look sending shivers running down her spine. He was a man of great power, she knew. She’d felt it that afternoon, and she felt it now. The spot where he touched her tingled with electricity.

“He didn’t?” she managed to say.

“There is no other woman. For Jonathan there is only the poker demon.”

She should have felt relieved, but instead she was horrified. The man she’d been married to for five years… she hadn’t even known him. He’d harbored a dark secret that he’d never wanted her to find out. Now that she had, the respect she’d still felt was dwindling fast.

“He should have told you,” Vitaly confirmed. “He should have come clean.”

“I didn’t know,” was all she could manage.

“I know you didn’t. That’s why we’re going to let you go.” He then fastened his grip on her arm. “There’s one condition.”

Suddenly, the fear that had tapered off returned full force. “What’s that?”

“The people I work for… they will not be so forgiving. They will want to… hurt you. Use you as leverage to get at Jonathan.” He shook his head. “I cannot let that happen. Not after what you did for Yana. So I am going to have to ask you to come with me.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “What? What are you saying?”

“There is only one way to save your life now, Joanna. Only one way to keep you safe.”

Somehow, she knew what the answer was even before she voiced the question, and fear reared its ugly head, tightening her stomach and turning it into a knotty wasteland. “What?” she whispered.

“You will be my bride. It is the only way.”

CHAPTER 6

There was a hush as Joanna contemplated the outrageous proposal. She didn’t even know this man, let alone consider him a mate for life, and yet the intensity of his gaze and the tone in which he’d spoken told her he wasn’t kidding.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he insisted. “As my wife, you will be shielded from scrutiny, the guilt you share with your ex-husband wiped out through your connection with me. If not…”

Her heart leaped in her chest. “If not, what?”

He shrugged. “You’ll be executed, your body found alongside your husband’s, a clear sign to all that it doesn’t do to renege on a debt owed to…”

She swallowed. “Owed to whom? Who are you working for?”

He shook his head slowly. “Later perhaps. Now you need to decide. Do you want to live or… die.”

He eyed her intently, the wheels of her mind spinning frantically. He realized it was a tough decision to make. The woman hardly knew him—had no way of knowing if she could trust him. He’d come barging in here, the harbinger of bad tidings and the promise of violence, and now this.

The moment he’d realized the predicament she was in, he hadn’t hesitated for a single moment. There was something about her that greatly appealed to him—something not from this world, perhaps—or at least not from his.

He lived in a constant atmosphere of peril, the only people he cared about his small circle of loyal comrades, and to survive he’d had to hone his senses, sharpen his skills to the point of deadliness, and control his emotions beneath a carefully constructed mask of brutality.

Joanna had pierced that mask that afternoon—had seen beyond it for a glimpse of the man he truly was, and at that moment their souls had briefly touched. Now he couldn’t think what might happen to her if he didn’t intervene. As matters now stood, he was the only one who could—or wanted.

All depended on her now. If she refused, she would be dead within a fortnight, along with her treacherous ex-husband. If she accepted? She was his.

He let his eyes roam across her womanly form, down from her bewitching eyes to the swell of her ample bosom and her round hips. She was a woman, all right, and not a girl. She had lived, and had experienced heartache and pain, and he longed to keep her safe from the peril that loomed over her now, not out of the goodness of his heart, but because there was lust when he regarded her. There was desire to possess her, to stir her flesh with his and become one in the marital bed.

“I don’t know,” she was saying. “I mean, you come barging in here with tales of Jonathan’s gambling debts, and you won’t even tell me who you’re working for? I have a hard time believing you, Vitaly. And now you want me to be your wife?”

She held up a delicate hand, and he took it gently, pressing a kiss on her palm. “I know it is hard to believe, but trust me when I tell you this is the only way I know to keep you safe. Marry me, and all will be well. I promise.”

“How
can
I trust you? I don’t even
know
you.”

“I realize that. Still, there is the matter of your husband’s debt. If not for him, you would be a free woman now.” He took a firmer grip on her hand. “I recommend you accept my offer, Joanna. Other men will come, and they won’t be as considerate as I am.”

She stood, withdrawing her hand and clasping that infernal dog in her arms. The moment she lifted her chin in that gesture of defiance, he knew he’d lost his plea.

“I’ll take my chances. You honestly can’t expect me to marry a total stranger, just because he comes barging into my house in the middle of the night with stories about debts and danger. I must ask you to leave now, Vitaly. Whatever business you have, you will have to take up with my ex-husband.”

With a somber finality, he acknowledged her decision. He hated to see a good woman fall victim to the kind of monsters Yury would send after her, and when he gazed upon her, his hand automatically stole up her cheek, and he caressed it in a rare moment of tenderness. He’d gambled and lost, and now her fate was no longer his to decide.

“I’m sorry,” he offered before turning away from her. He picked up the sledgehammer he’d casually parked against the banister and slung it over his shoulder, then expelled a piercing whistle to summon his men, and stalked out the door without another glance back.

The sooner he forgot all about Joanna Royale, the better for his peace of mind. The last thing he heard were the yapping sounds of her Maltese. At least the men who would follow in his footsteps would take out the dog first, he thought. It wouldn’t do to kill the woman and leave the dog to mourn over her dead body. They were killers, to be sure, but they still abided by a certain code. If not, they’d be no better than the animals in the wild.

Spartak removed his mask and eyed him curiously. “What was that all about?”

“I decided to give her a chance,” he muttered, the memory of her eyes haunting him. “After all, it is not her fault that no-good husband of hers got into trouble.”

“We should have grabbed her,” Spartak offered. “You know it’s only a matter of time before Yury sends Viktor.”