Russian Enforcer's Reluctant Bride (7 page)

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he whispered in an attempt to ward off her rising panic. Her eyes were wide and her face had lost its color. “The girl you saw yesterday? She’s Tatyana’s twin. She and Yana are Yury’s daughters.”

“Tatyana doesn’t know what happened to her sister?”

“No, she doesn’t, and neither does Yury. And I would like to keep it that way.”

“But how can you? Won’t Yana tell them what happened?”

“No, she won’t, for she hates Yury almost as much as he hates her.”

“And Tatyana? She hates her too?”

“No. But she’s a blabbermouth. She’ll never be able to keep quiet.”

He listened intently for a moment. The danger had passed, he knew. Around this time, Yury always took a stroll in the garden. He liked to roam the grounds before breakfast, overseeing his domain, then return to the house to start his business for the day.

He rolled off Joanna, gratified to see some color return to her cheeks.

“I still don’t understand,” she said. “Why isn’t Yury supposed to know what happened to his daughter?”

He leveled a scrutinizing gaze at her, wondering how much he could tell her.

“You can tell me,” she urged. “I won’t betray your trust.”

He gave her a brief nod. “Yana and Spartak have been having an affair. They would like to get out of this place and get married, but Yury will never allow it. First of all, the thought of his little girl marrying one of his lieutenants revolts him. He wants her to get married to a good party, better than a mere underling. And then there’s the fact that once you enter into Yury’s employ, you can never leave unless it’s feet first.”

“Dead,” she intoned, quickly understanding his meaning. Then she realized he’d said a lot more than he’d meant, and her eyes widened. “Does that mean you can never leave either?”

“That’s correct. Yury won’t allow it.”

The way he’d spoken was so matter-of-fact that the horrifying truth didn’t hit home until after he’d thrown her a look of anger blended with sorrow that almost broke her heart. Before she could stop herself, she’d placed a hand on his cheek, wanting somehow to alleviate some of the burden he was carrying. Their eyes locked and held, and when he moved and took her lips, she felt the anticipation bubbling inside her before the warmth of his mouth on hers spread through her being.

His hands pressed her down, and then he was on top of her once again, only this time she didn’t fight him—on the contrary, she welcomed the feel of his large body pressing down on hers, his tongue mashing against hers, and when his hand snuck down and grasped her boob, she whimpered as a sudden heat struck her and held her in its grip, tingling all the way from her head to her toes. Then his hand snuck beneath her shirt and they were skin on skin, his fingers kneading the soft, warm flesh of her breast as his tongue explored her mouth with a passion and an abandon that erupted like a volcano between them.

Pulling up her shirt, she revealed herself to him and was rewarded by a look of such lust and heat that it sent shivers racing up and down her spine.

CHAPTER 14

Vitaly leaned in closer, and when his hand snuck down her belly and cupped her mound through the course fabric of her jeans, she arched her back and writhed beneath him. He nipped her lips, then darted against her tongue, and soon they were exploring each other deeply, their heat knowing no bounds.

Here, in the place used by Yury’s gardeners, he felt like a young boy experiencing his first ever kiss. Only he wasn’t a teenager, and neither was she. They were man and woman, and old enough to know better, and yet neither was capable of drawing back and putting an end to this folly.

Any moment now, Yury could return from her ramble around the gardens. And if he heard the sounds of their lovemaking he wouldn’t hesitate to barge in and discover them here. He would think it odd, no doubt, that a couple engaged to be married would sneak off like this, his curiosity and suspicions piqued.

He didn’t care, he decided. Didn’t care about Yury or anyone else for that matter. All he cared about was her. Joanna. A woman moving beneath him in a frenzy that left him breathless and yearning for more at the same time.

Then she was pushing up his shirt, and he was tugging down her jeans, and he was eighteen again, and experiencing his very first crush. Her body moved in sync with his, her flesh pliant and soft, her skin velvet to the touch, and when he gently cupped her bare mound, this time eliciting shivers of delight in her, he reached lower still, and felt the soft lips of her sex open like petals of the most delicate flower, and he reeled with the sensation of her, the wetness and the heat spreading at the heart of her thighs.

Joanna raked her hands through his long black hair, still damp from his shower, and pulled him down to her chest, willing his lips to plunder her breasts, and when he sucked in her nipple, it responded by drawing to a peak, the pale flesh puckering under the onslaught, and she gasped at the sensation of his hot mouth on her.

Reaching down, she found he’d shrugged out of his jeans, and when her touch was met by the hardness rearing up from his loins, she thought she’d never felt a more enticing sensation. She slowly let her fingers explore the veiny shaft, ending in the velvety head, thick and hot, and then was gratified to discover a drop of slickness topping the majestic lance.

Slowly directing him to her center, she sought his gaze, and when their eyes met, she melted into the look of heat and tenderness she found therein. She caressed her hand along his stubbled cheek, and then cried out when he moved inside, sliding between her folds with a soft shudder, the sensation of their cores finally touching sending shivers through the both of them. He arched up, supporting himself on his arms, and she trailed her fingers along the rippling muscles of his broad chest, along his corded arms and back, and then his mouth was on hers again, claiming what was already his—what she’d already offered.

As Vitaly moved inside her, sliding deeply between Joanna’s slickness and melting in the heat that tugged at his core, he knew his life would never be the same again. After this moment, he could no longer pretend to return to his old life—dismiss the connection with this woman out of hand.

They were one now—the silent scream ringing through his body and mind—united at the center of their being, and life would never return to the same old rut again.

He moved inside her, supporting himself on his arms as his mouth continued to explore the delicacy of her softness—her neck—her throat—the smooth surface of her breasts… Cupping and sucking, drinking and tasting, he was voracious, and so was she. Over and over again, she sought his mouth, offered her tongue, and as her legs casually circled his waist, and she drew him in even deeper, he lost the last vestiges of restraint. She might be his now, but he was hers as well.

“Oh, Vitaly,” she sighed, the telltale signs of an overwhelming climax rearing up from the depths of her center. “Oh, my Vitaly.”

As the cadence of their union increased, his length sliding ever deeper and faster between the slick walls of her flesh, she cried out as her body trembled and shivered in the throes of her first peak, the fire burning in her belly leaping across her whole body and holding her in its ecstatic grip. And as he suddenly reared deeply inside her, breaking the rhythm for the first time, she knew he, too, was reaching the point of no return, and she welcomed it, still in the throes of her own climax, and laughed with the pleasure and the joy of it all.

Unable to stop, she drew him near again, and when their tongues connected, bliss spread out inside her mind, soul and body, and all she knew was him—Vitaly.

CHAPTER 15

There wasn’t a thing to be done. He’d taken the woman and made her his. This was the situation, and now they had to deal with it.

Yury watched as Vitaly and the woman emerged from the garden house, surreptitiously looked about them as if they had been trespassing on foreign ground, then grinning at each like a couple of silly teens, and traipsed off into the gardens, fingers entwined and bodies close.

They had that glow, Yury decided. The postcoital glow. That was what gave them away. That and the sounds of their lovemaking, of course. One couldn’t miss them. The moment he’d passed by the small structure and heard them going at it, he’d been of a mind to simply throw wide the door and chase them both out of there.

A fury had come over him at the thought of Vitaly lowering himself to such base conduct. And on his property as well. It was now clear to him that something must be done and right soon as well, or else he would lose his best enforcer the way he’d lost many others before.

Women. They were the bane of his existence. First his daughter Yana, seducing Spartak, now this wench. What was wrong with the species? Couldn’t they leave well enough alone? Things had gone swimmingly without them, and now that they’d set foot into his world, ever so gradually, disaster had set in.

He couldn’t lay a hand on Yana, but he could take care of a mere English teacher. He’d have her out of the way before nightfall. Arrangements had already been made.

Staring out his office window, he decided not to spend one more minute of his time on Joanna Royale. Other things required his attention. Competitors were encroaching on his turf, and if he didn’t strike with the brutality and force people had come to expect of him, they wouldn’t stop.

He picked up the phone from his desk and put in a call to Boris. The man was perhaps not as good as Vitaly, but that couldn’t be helped. Things had gone too far, and if he didn’t act now, all would be lost.

“Get me Boris,” he grunted into the speaker.

He returned his gaze to the couple frolicking in the garden and his stomach turned. Sickening. He shook his head, his lip curling up in abject distaste.

“Boris,” he barked the moment the other spoke. “I’ve got a little job for you that requires… delicacy.”

He smiled his cruel smile as he relayed the details of the assignment and was gratified to find Boris quite agreeable.

“Just get it done,” he snarled when the man started gibbering about some trifle, then abruptly disconnected and replaced the receiver.

He sighed and returned his gaze to the window. Running an empire such as the one he had erected in the fifteen years he’d been an American citizen wasn’t an easy task, but it had its little bonuses from time to time. Tonight was one of those nights all good things happened at once. First he would take care of the Royale bitch, and then remove Spartak from the equation and return his daughter into the fold, and finally he would teach that pesky Zharykhin a lesson the man would never forget. If he lived, that was, which was unlikely.

He gazed up at the portrait of his mother. He had one in every room of the house. “Mama,” he said wistfully, placing his hands on the desk, “why did you have to leave me so soon?”

The matronly woman gazing back at him didn’t speak, but still Yury felt her presence as real as if she’d actually been in the room with him.

From beyond the veil, she seemed to reach out, and when a flutter stirred his core, he placed his hand on his heart and sighed. “Thank you, Mama. It’s so good of you to join us at this hour. I know that it is too much to ask, but can you give me your blessing one last time before I go to war?”

A breeze seemed to stir the papers on his desk, and Yury gasped in astonishment. “No way,” he muttered, then looked up at his mater, and bowed his head in beatific gratitude. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Your will be done.”

Then he rose from behind his desk and walked over to the hidden panel connecting his office to a secret room he’d had installed when he first moved into the chateau. Placing his hand on a small scanning terminal discreetly placed next to the panel, the door clicked open, and when he entered, the lights automatically flashed on. He walked a few paces, then turned his cold gray eyes on the man placed on an operating table in the center of the room.

Surgical tools were placed on a side table, and a bright light burned over the table, illuminating the man who’d been tied down there.

The man, his arms and legs zip-tied to the table, stirred as Yury walked up to him. Spartak, for it was he, cried out, “Yury—don’t do this to me, my friend! Your daughter—it was an accident. I swear!”

Yury shook his head as he tsk-tsked, then picked up a pair of surgical gloves from the side table and slowly started putting them on. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose, Spartak. If you had, you would be six feet under already. A painless death would have been your punishment. But as you are the man she’s been making love to, you deserve a little more attention, don’t you think?”

The man blanched, and he stammered, “What are you going to do to me?”

“Just meting out a little token of my disapproval.” He picked up a scalpel and approached the man slowly. “You should have known better than to get involved with Yana, my friend. Didn’t I tell you this when you first came to work for me?”

“It—it just happened, Yury. We—we fell in love!”

At the mention of the word, Yury’s face hardened, and when he lashed out, the cry of terror from his victim was like balm to his own wound.

“You’ll regret ever to have laid a finger on my daughter,” he growled, the thin veneer of civility quickly giving way to the butcher he essentially was. Then, with a quick plunge of the blade, he severed the man’s aorta and watched the blood spurt out with fascination. Within seconds, Spartak’s struggles had ceased, and within a minute, the man who’d dishonored Yana was dead.

Pity, thought Yury as he put down the surgeon’s knife. He would have preferred to prolong the treatment—torture the man a little more, but then anger had made him commit this rash act. Oh, well. Impulse control had never been his strong suit. He removed the gloves and strode from the room, safe in the knowledge that other people would clean up the mess.

CHAPTER 16

“I don’t think this will work. It’s just… too big!”

Ruslan watched the girl with fascination. The way her mind worked never ceased to amaze him. And then, of course, there was her body, which was simply out of this world.