Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4) (12 page)

♦ ♦ ♦

Neither Tanner, who was Angela’s son, or Olivia, the one-year-old girl Sacha was caring for this morning, paid any attention to her chatter, half of it in English, half in Russian. But the third occupant in the stroller didn’t disappoint. Every little while Lekzi, who was facing backward and hidden from everyone but Sacha by the canopy on her car seat, stretched her little face to offer her mother a smile that showed off her two tiny teeth popping up from her bottom gums. Her soft blonde hair was covered by a hat, her small body by a snowsuit. The only visible parts to any of the children were their faces.

“Are you trying to charm mummy as I bore you with my nervous chatter?” Sacha whispered as she pulled the zipper down on her own padded coat. It was mild for early December. “I cannot help it. I keep expecting your papa to step out in front of me.” She navigated the stroller around a recycle bag that had fallen from a pile on the curb and refrained from looking back to see if her guard did the same. “But you know this.”

Lekzi had woken just before six, and as they’d settled in the rocker with their mid-sections pressed together and the baby enjoying her breakfast, Sacha had unloaded, sharing about Alekzander’s reappearance in their lives. Guilt had consumed her when she’d spoken of getting rid of him as quickly as possible. Shame over her vindictive behavior had joined in to eat at her as it always did when speaking to her daughter about her father—something she did more than she should considering how she now felt about him. Finally, she’d had no choice but to voice the frightening possibility that now existed.

She’d told Lekzi she might meet her papa one day after all.

After she’d uttered the terrifying words, Sacha had quieted and tried to imagine what it would be like to share her child with the man who’d helped create her. At first, she’d tried to think in terms of not being the only woman to ever go through something like this. So many other couples successfully co-parented. Would it really be so terrible? To watch father and daughter fall in love with each other. To give Lekzi another person who would love and protect her with his very life. Because she knew Alekzander would. Would it be so awful to sit next to him in the school gymnasium and share in the joy of watching their only child perform in a primary choir? Or have someone to call so she could share things people who weren’t a child’s parent found so annoying? Would it not be a relief to know she could rely on someone if Lekzi got sick? Or if, God forbid,
she
did?

That was one of her greatest fears. If something happened to her, who would take care of her daughter?

As always, she’d forced the thought away as quickly as she could, and it wasn’t long before reality had intruded. Co-parenting Lekzi wouldn’t be about support and company. It would be about control and a lack of on her part. School events and dance recitals wouldn’t be enjoyable; they’d be painful and humiliating because Alekzander would likely sandwich himself between Sacha and his newest lover. How could she even think to subject her daughter to a constant stream of changing faces, none of them sticking around long enough to offer any normalcy or security?

Or worse. How would Sacha ever live through having Alekzander sit next to her in a stuffy auditorium while he held a hand he’d slid an engagement ring on the night before. To later sit and listen to Lekzi share how wonderful her father’s wedding was, how wonderful her new stepmother was, how in love the newlyweds were.

And all that was if Sacha was privileged enough to be allowed to remain in her daughter’s life once Alekzander learned the truth.

She bit at her lips as they passed by storefronts, apartment buildings, and pedestrians. By the time she’d done her usual route, they’d gone eight blocks. Just enough to work off the extra slices of bacon she’d eaten at breakfast. She turned, and so as not to appear rude since
Grigori
was only doing his job, she offered him a small smile.

“You do not have to walk behind me,” she said because she just couldn’t ignore him anymore. “It is not as if I am unaware you are there.”

“You will get used to me,” he responded in an accent even heavier than hers. He motioned her forward, but she didn’t move.

She switched to Russian. “You have recently come from home?”

His gaze moved around constantly. “Yes. One year ago.”

“Have you been with Alekzander’s family all that time?”

He briefly met her eyes but gave her no answer.

“I was in New York only eight weeks when I met him. When is he coming?” she snuck in.

“I have not been told.”

She tried not to let her shoulders slump. “It was nice to see Vasily last night. He was always very kind to me. Do you know if he will be with Alekzander?”

“I have not been told.”

Her mouth went crooked. She was sure if she asked what his favorite food was he would say the same thing. “Well, it was lovely talking to you, Grigori. You have been very helpful in putting my mind at ease. Thank you.” She pushed on the handle and hadn’t gone more than a half a block when a group of guys her age pushed out of a pub she was surprised was open this early. They served lunch, so that explained it.

The one with orange hair and an invasive stare caught her eye as she leaned forward to stop him from bumping into the stroller.

“Oh, fuck me,” he said. “Sor— Well, damn.” He slapped the back of his hand on his friend’s chest, drawing his attention from something the third one was saying.

Sacha simply pushed on and gritted her teeth when he skipped to stay even with her.

“Hey, baby, you wanna—”

That was all he got out before Grigori’s big hand slammed down on his scruff. That meaty fist latched on and jerked him back. “Leave her be.”

“What the hell are you, her owner? Get the fuck off, goof. She’s getting away.”

Grigori spun the guy so that he hit the brick wall next to them face-first. The hard thunk sounded awful, but not nearly as awful as what his nose looked like when Grigori pulled him back to repeat the slam.

“Did you not see the children in her care?” he growled as his free hand came up, his finger pointing from his extended arm. “Take one more step and you are next.”

Sacha, who had a hand slapped over her mouth, took just enough time to see the two friends freeze in place before she got the children moving. She quickly passed by two older gentlemen sitting on a stoop.

“It’s as good a morning as ever to learn better manners, miss. I’d shake your boyfriend’s hand, but I wouldn’t want him to eat me.”

They guffawed as she hurried along, her face burning, the children babbling happily, completely clueless as to what had just taken place.

“You do not travel this neighborhood again.”

Sacha jumped and barely swallowed a shriek. Grigori was once more behind her. His expression was no longer murderous. He wasn’t even breathing heavy.

“Why did you do that?” she whispered fiercely as she walked faster.

“Because men like him need their brain rattled. I would not like to see how he would have approached you if you were alone and it was dark.”

Sacha shuddered and was suddenly glad the Neanderthal was with her. “Thank you. And I thank you on behalf of the parents of my children. They would be grateful to know you possibly saved their babies from…that.”
Your boss is one of those parents.

“You do not thank me, Ms. Urusski.”

“I am Sacha, and I just did.” She stopped at a crosswalk and waited for the symbol to change. And for her heart rate to slow. They had crossed to the other side of the street before he spoke again.

“Alek will be with Maksim, not Mr. Tarasov.”

She looked up and watched Grigori look in every direction without making it obvious he was looking in every direction. He didn’t seem aware of her.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

But he was.

As they approached home, Sacha glanced into the opening between the panels closing Lekzi in and saw the zipper of her snowsuit was digging into the sensitive skin of her neck. Slowing, she reached in and pulled it down, noting those crystalline eyes Sacha was still able to look into every day were droopy and unfocused. Leaving her to her coming snooze, Sacha moved up the line to right Olivia’s hat and pull the little one’s mitten on more securely when she saw a portion of skin visible at her wrist. The little girl looked up at Sacha and showed off a mouthful of teeth when she grinned.

“Another one has come up?” she gasped in mock surprise as she tickled the one-year-old behind the ear. “You will be doing toothpaste adds in no time.” She stepped back behind the stroller and pushed to gain speed—

Her right foot nearly slid out from under her as she jerked to a complete stop.

“Ah, there they are,” Grigori said as if it was a good thing. “It seems your wait is over.”

Had Sacha been alone, she knew she’d have whimpered out loud. In fear or appreciation, she wasn’t…okay, it would be in both because she was smart
and
a masochist.

Wearing a black overcoat over his suit, Alekzander stood thirty feet ahead, right in the middle of the sidewalk. He had his hands clasped behind his back. His head was bowed slightly. And his focus was centered directly on her. She felt the pull immediately. The one she wanted to deny having felt last night but couldn’t. It was that invisible draw that had always been between them. Even from this far away she experienced the power he emanated, the sex, the danger.

A buzz shot through her when he brought his hands around and buried them in the pockets of his coat as he started toward her. She wanted to turn and run but couldn’t because of the children.

One of which is his!

She tore her eyes from the familiarity of that confident walk—no, he didn’t walk, he prowled—to see her daughter was asleep. But would she stay that way now that the lulling movement of the stroller had stopped?

Quickly, hands trembling, Sacha pulled the panel further down and tucked the blanket up so that Lekzi was nearly covered. All Sacha could see were two closed eyes and a button nose. Her other two charges happily kicked their legs and continued chatting to each other, for which she was grateful. Had they been fussing or crying she mostly likely would have fallen to her knees and joined them.

She heard his footfalls as he reached her, and then saw the polished Italian leather of the same type of shoe she’d tripped over countless times when entering their apartment. He’d had a terrible habit of taking them off the moment he walked through the door.
When I walk into our home, I’m too distracted by what’s in it to pay much attention to where I leave my shoes.
Naturally, she’d melted at his response to her complaint and had never mentioned it again. In fact, stumbling over them from then on had always given her a warm feeling inside.

There was no warmth in her now. Only fear, dread, animosity, and…other stuff. She braced herself, fighting for calm, and raised her eyes.

It was as if someone reached into her chest and squeezed her heart with all their might. For the first time in sixteen months, in the cold light of day, Sacha was looking directly into the face of the man she’d fallen in love with at first glance. The man she’d thought was her soulmate. The one she’d thought she would spend the rest of her life with.

But no. He’d had other plans. And those plans hadn’t included her.

The reminder had her skin shrinking. And pain, so much pain shook her as she took in the strong jaw and icy eyes, his dark blonde hair falling boyishly over his forehead. It was now longer than she ever remembered him wearing it. He looked like a rake. A playboy. Which he was, she reminded herself.

“Good morning, Sacha,”

“Good morning, Alekzander,” she returned, hating him. Hating what he made her feel. Hating what he’d done to them. Hating him because she still felt a desperate need to reach out and touch him. She wanted to part his expensive coat and burrow into his chest the way she used to. She wanted to feel secure and treasured, not off-kilter and miserable.

He stepped closer, his gaze roving her face. “Jesus Christ.” His arm moved, and then relaxed as if he’d thought better of taking his hand from his pocket. “Daylight does for you the opposite of what it does for most of us.”

Oh, why did he continue reverting to Russian? In that deep bass, their language had always weakened her knees. It was no different now. She remained silent, hoping he would say his piece and go away.

“Were you bringing the children inside?”

She nodded.

“Would you let me accompany you?”

“No. You can say what you came to say right here.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. I’d like to speak with you in private. Since you had the night as a reprieve, I don’t think a few minutes of your time is asking too much.”

Even though apologetic, there was no room for argument in his tone. His refusal to simply get this over with was a statement delivered, and he obviously expected the result he demanded. As was his way.

Well, she would not be striving to please him this day. Gripping the handle as if it were a lifeline, she pushed the stroller forward. It hit something, and thinking it was a stone, she pulled back and tried again only to be thwarted. She looked down impatiently to see the toe of Alekzander’s shoe jammed under one of the middle wheels.