Russian Enforcer's Reluctant Bride (8 page)

BOOK: Russian Enforcer's Reluctant Bride
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“Tatyana, size doesn’t matter.”

The moment he said it, he regretted the inanity. Tatyana’s eyes widened, then she swung a hand before her mouth and burst out into peals of laughter.

“I mean, it’s not as important as quality,” he backpedaled.

Too late, of course. She’d taken his statement and turned it into a meme that would carry on throughout their relationship. She’d simply never let him live it down.

“Just look at the poor darling,” she cooed, and picked up the Saint-Bernard her father had gifted her. “He’s all shook up.”

She teetered on the landing, trying to balance the gigantic ball of fur in her slender arms, and if he hadn’t intervened and quickly steadied her, she would have probably toppled over the balustrade.

“Give me that,” he said a little breathlessly, for in relieving her of the dog, he’d inadvertently touched her arm, and the tiny hairs had felt ever so soft. Licking his lips, he took in her tan skin, then his eyes flitted to the halter top she always insisted on wearing whenever he was on duty, and he couldn’t help but feel dizzy as he took in the swell of her nubile breasts protruding from the lacy green bra peeking out over the fluorescent pink top.

He swallowed a little convulsively, and blinked when she suddenly took his arm and leaned in for a whisper.

“You know why I like you so much, Ruslan?”

“Um, no?”

She took his arm and pressed her breasts against it. He flinched. Then she flashed those huge, innocent eyes of hers and gave him a dazzling smile. “Because you’re the only handsome man in the house.”

For a moment, he was held spellbound by that smile, then he stirred back to life when he heard a door open on the next floor. Correctly surmising that Yury wouldn’t appreciate him chatting up his daughter, he quickly started to return the Saint-Bernard to her room before the boss was upon them.

Tatyana gave him a pout as she sashayed into the room after him.

Nervously, he quickly extricated himself, and closed the door on her look of disappointment. She was one hot little number, and he would do her in a heartbeat, if only Yury wasn’t so particular about who his daughters dated. None of his staff, that was for sure, and most definitely not a lowly serf like Ruslan.

And he’d just started walking away from Tatyana’s room when he heard a delicate cough behind him. Instantly knowing it was Yury, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He might have worked for the man for going on three years now, but Yury still scared the living daylights out of him.

He turned to face his employer, his face impassive and eyes revealing nothing.

“What were you doing in Tatyana’s room?” Yury asked softly, the menace shimmering right beneath the surface.

“She was having trouble with your gift, Yury. Said the dog was too big to handle.” He brought a hand to his face and coughed in his fist, then folded his hands in front of him, taking a wide stance, just the way Vitaly had taught him.

Yury merely gave him a curt nod, indicating he’d been dismissed. As he started walking away, Yury said, “Oh, and Ruslan? I made a bit of a mess in the office. Could you take care of it?”

“Of course, sir,” he said, his heart racing. The word ‘mess’ was code for a dead body. He wondered who it would be this time. He just hoped Yury hadn’t made things too messy. Once the whole room had been splattered with blood. It had taken a crew of three an hour to clean it all up.

“Ask Vitaly to help you. He’ll show you where to dump the body.”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” he said without looking up.

As he sped away, he wondered why Yury would involve Vitaly in such a menial task. As the head of security and Yury’s right-hand man Vitaly was above such lowly assignments.

Knowing better than to question the boss, he went in search of Vitaly, and found him in his office, which was located on the ground floor. Applying his knuckles to the jamb, he intoned, “Vitaly? Yury said to help me clean up a dead body in his office. Said you’d know where to dump the poor sucker?”

“Doesn’t he know I’ve got better things to do than to clean up after him?” Vitaly growled, cracking his neck. “Who is it this time? Anyone we know?”

As the big guy rose to his feet and joined him, Ruslan shrugged. “No idea. Probably some lowlife who got in too deep.” As they lightly moved up the stairs, he lowered his voice and said, “How’s Yana? Any news?”

“She’ll be fine,” returned Vitaly. “The arrow managed to dodge all the vital organs. She’s making quite a miraculous recovery.”

“Where are they keeping her? Saint-John’s?”

Vitaly nodded absently. The fact that everybody knew what had happened disturbed him. If word reached Yury’s ear about what exactly had transpired yesterday, he would be furious. Furious with his daughter, but even more with Spartak. He’d reported the news about the accident personally. Said a stray arrow had hit the girl. When Yury had inquired after the shooter, he’d said it had originated from another hunting party.

But of course Spartak had blabbed about the incident to Boris, and now everybody knew what had actually happened. If word got out he’d lied to Yury, he would face the big man’s ire personally. Not that that worried him too much. After all, what could Yury do? Fire him? Kill him? Not likely.

Arriving at the man’s office, he put his palm on the scanner and the door to the hidden room swished open. The moment he set foot inside, his stomach lurched. Beside him, Ruslan was violently sick and hurled the contents of his stomach on the floor in a single retching gulp.

CHAPTER 17

Joanna was walking on air. As she strode through the gardens, Ramir gamboling around her feet, she thought she could have burst out into song. A glow suffused her cheeks. It wasn’t hard to see why. She’d just had the best sex she’d had in ages, and it showed. Vitaly was gone, but the memory lingered. She was surprised at how strongly she’d responded to him, her body apparently having acquired a will all of its own. How strongly she’d misjudged the man. It was clear to her now that beneath that hard veneer there lay a tender heart.

He’d shown her pleasures she’d long forgotten. Granted, Jonathan and she had had sex during the five years their relationship had lasted, but it had never felt this wonderful—this earth-shattering—this… blissful.

She couldn’t help but smile at the recollection of her recent union with the man who was starting to dominate not merely her body but also her heart. Had their meeting in the forest been preordained? Had fate finally smiled upon her and decided to bring the blossom of hope to adorn the tree of her future?

How odd, that Jonathan’s gambling debts would have brought Vitaly Loganov into her life. How… auspicious.

And she was just giving her mind free rein to outline a future that prominently featured Vitaly, when a voice spoke in her rear. Her mood of careless happiness was suddenly ruthlessly crushed like the fragile blossom it was.

“I see you’re enjoying the fruits of my labor, Miss Royale?”

Without turning, she stiffened, and replied, “A very fine garden, Yury. You must be so proud.”

“Oh, but I am. As I am proud of all the things that belong to me.”

She did turn now, the inflection in his voice giving her pause. She wondered if he had been standing there long, but then figured it didn’t matter. Her happiness was not something she should feel ashamed about.

“Have you lived here long?” she said in an attempt at making polite conversation.

Ignoring her question, he said, “You will find that I feel very strongly about the distinction between mine and thine, Joanna. It’s one of the reasons I love this country so much that I’ve made it my home. When I was in Russia, everything belonged to the state. And I do mean everything. No private property.” He extended his arm to gesture at his garden. “All this could have never belonged to me if I’d stayed where I was born. But now that it does, I like to protect it with my life.”

She looked up at the fierceness with which he’d spoken these words. She now saw he was staring at her with a look of indignation mingled with unmitigated hatred, and she frowned, not comprehending. “If this is about Jonathan, I assure you I had nothing to do with what he did. He never even confided in me about his plans for the hotel.”

Yury slashed the air with his hand. “Screw your ex-husband. I don’t care about him any more than I care about the men who betray me.” He suddenly turned on her. “You were there when Spartak shot my daughter, yes?”

Ram gave a sharp bark at these words, sensing danger. Joanna knelt down and scooped up the little ball of white, comforting him in her arms. Remembering Vitaly’s words, she realized she must tread very carefully now. Somehow, Yury had discovered the truth about what had happened to his daughter, and it made him furious.

“I—No, actually I wasn’t,” she returned guardedly. “All I saw was that a woman had been shot, and when I tried to help her, two men were there that I’d never seen before. They frightened me at first, but later told me who the woman was and why she was there.”

“They say you helped her—that you saved her life?”

“That—I think at the time it may have looked that way. I’m sure, though, that even without my help she would have been fine.”

He nodded his agreement. “That’s what the doctors told me. Although the arrow could have killed her if only it had been mere inches to the left.”

“I’m glad she’s going to be fine.” She spoke from the bottom of her heart.

“Thank you,” he acknowledged quietly, then told her, “It is very unusual, is it not, for a man to fall in love with a woman on such short notice? In the space of mere hours?”

Only now did she realize her mistake when telling him she’d never met Vitaly before. She slung a hand to her mouth when she noticed the look of triumph he gave her.

“It is as I suspected. Vitaly told me how you met, and the story struck me as unlikely in the extreme. He would have told me about you if that had been the case, or I would have heard it from others.” He folded his hands behind his back and started circling her, sizing her up as if she were an adversary he was poised to go into battle with.

“I—I don’t know why I said that. I meant, of course, that I’d never seen Spartak before. Until Vitaly introduced us, that is.” She stopped when she saw the tiny smile curl up his lips, his gray eyes seeing right through her.

“You know one of the secrets of success, Joanna? It is the capacity to detect a lie. Some people have called me a human lie detector, and sometimes I think there must be some truth to the matter.” He pointed at his face. “It is in the eyes, almost all of the time. Some people watch the lips when a person speaks. I only look at the eyes. They never lie, even though the lips might.”

“I’m sorry. I never meant to cause any trouble,” she stammered with a sinking heart.

“And yet you did,” he countered. He shook his head. “What are we going to do with you, mh? Your husband still owes me five hundred thousand dollars, and Vitaly must have thought using you as leverage might prove efficacious in retrieving it. I’m afraid he was mistaken. A man like Jonathan doesn’t care about anybody other than himself. Even if I had dangled you before him, he would have remained hidden, not caring one bit what happened to his dear ex-wife.”

She raised her head, the mention of Jonathan making her indignant. “Then why did you send your men for me?”

He held up his finger like a school teacher explaining something to the class. “That is the question, is it not? The million dollar question. Let me just tell you that I have my reasons.” He extended his hand and took hers in a tight grip, ignoring Ram’s sharp yip. “Now if you would be so kind as to follow me? There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

With trepidation, she heeded his request, his fingers enclosing hers like an iron band. “Where are we going?” she finally asked when they were nearing the house.

“We’re going to say hello to your father, Joanna.”

At this, she gasped in shock and tried to tear away from him. In response, he dug his fingers into her arm and yanked her along. “Not a word, or I will have both you and Vitaly killed.”

“You wouldn’t,” she exclaimed, panic rising in her chest.

He jerked her around, so she was facing him, then thundered, “Tell me, Joanna. Do you think I am lying?”

A single glance told her he was not.

CHAPTER 18

There was something about the way he was eying her that felt… off. Even though he said all he wanted was to have a quick word with her father, she knew better than to expect him to honor his word.

“You won’t hurt Vitaly? Or my father?”

“No, Joanna. I would never hurt Vitaly. Of course I wouldn’t. He’s my best friend.”

“But you just said—“

“I was lying. Couldn’t you tell?”

He laughed lightly, but she knew what she’d seen in those treacherous eyes. Menace. And death. He hadn’t lied when he said he would kill Vitaly. He would do it. In a heartbeat.

He handed her the phone and ordered her to call her father. Reluctantly she punched in the number, trepidation making her hand shake. When her dad’s familiar voice rumbled on the other end, she sighed in relief. “Dad? It’s me. Look, there’s someone here who wants to talk to you.”

Before her dad had the chance to utter a word, Yury snatched the phone from her fingers. “Mr. Mayor. So glad we could finally have this chat.”

She sat back, then, and watched the gangster spar with the politician, surmising quite correctly that the two would have a lot to discuss. Her father, mayor of Lincoln and one of the most crooked politicians who had ever walked the face of the earth, had been in the pocket of organized crime from the moment he’d taken office, which was but one of the reasons she hadn’t talked to the man in three years.

The other reason was the way he’d treated her mother. With neglect and even outright scorn each time she tried to nudge him back onto the straight and narrow or try to interest him in the family he’d seemingly forgotten about. And then when Mom died, the man hadn’t even shed a single tear.

With disgust, she watched Yury negotiate some new deal or other, and wondered briefly why he’d needed her presence to talk to her father. He probably had him on speed dial as far as she knew.

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