Russian Enforcer's Reluctant Bride (9 page)

Unwilling to get into the middle of one of her dad’s shady deals, she turned away, and started for the door when a voice rang out as sharp as a knife planted in the back, calling her back.

She’d just placed her fingers on the door handle when it turned of its own accord, and Vitaly walked in. Surprised to find her in Yury’s office, his eyes shot her questions his mouth couldn’t voice.

“Yury wanted to speak to my father,” she said innocently, hoping it was enough for him.

Behind them, Yury was still engaged in conversation with Paul, and he waved them both in, then pointed to two chairs. Unable to ignore the command, they took a seat. Joanna was surprised at the change that had come over Vitaly. He looked drawn now, and his face had taken on an ashen tinge. Something had greatly upset him, she immediately surmised. Had shaken him to the core.

He sat bolt upright, back straight, his eyes hard and unrelenting as they fell upon Yury. The latter didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, it was almost as if he relished in the look of anger Vitaly was directing at him.

“Thanks, Paul,” he concluded the conversation. “Yes. I’ll tell her you said hi. Sure. Nice to do business with you too. Bye-bye.”

As he replaced the phone, he folded his hands on the desk, and let his eyes slide over them, a look of triumph on his face. “You’ll be satisfied to learn that your father has agreed to all my terms, Joanna,” he began.

At these words, Vitaly’s jaw fell. “Your father? Paul Royale is your father?”

“He is, and I’m proud to say he and I will be business partners at last.” He reached for a cigar from a box on his desk. “And all thanks to you, Joanna. You might say your presence here has persuaded the old man.”

She realized now why he’d made her call her father. It was a threat. Do business with me, or your daughter is dead. She gasped in shock and was on her feet in a flash. “You blackmailed him!”

“Sit down!” he barked. “You too,” he added for Vitaly’s sake. The latter had also risen to his feet. But whereas Joanna instantly plunked down, Vitaly remained standing.

“You never told me you needed Joanna for this. If I would have known—“

“You would have done what?” Yury yelled, color rising to his cheeks. He pointed the cigar at his lieutenant. “You lied to me, Vitaly. You told me you had known this woman for weeks. That you’d gotten engaged long before. Now it turns out you never even laid eyes on her before yesterday!”

“I was trying to protect her. You would have done the same.”

The mobster reared back, feigning surprise. “Oh? Now you’re telling me what I would and would not do? You’re getting more and more out of line, Vitaly. And let me tell you straight away, this new habit of yours of lying to my face? I don’t like it!”

“You told me you needed her to convince her husband to pay up. You never said anything about Mayor Royale.”

Yury shrugged. “Since when do I need to explain every detail of my operation to you?”

Vitaly pounded the desk with his fist. “Since you made me your partner!”

This was news to Joanna. He’d never told her he and Yury were partners.

“Well, the detail about the mayor might have slipped my mind,” said Yury easily.

Vitaly’s eyes narrowed, and Joanna could feel the rising tension between the two men. This conversation was headed for an explosion, she knew, and she wished she was anywhere but here.

“What about the detail that you slaughtered Spartak, huh? That also slip your mind, Yury?”

The news startled Joanna, and she let out a whimper. God, no. Had Yury killed Spartak? It wasn’t possible.

Yury merely lifted his shoulders. “The man almost killed Yana. Should I let him get away with it?”

“That was an accident and you know it!” thundered Vitaly.

Yury’s eyes suddenly flashed dangerously, and he growled, “Back off, Vitaly. I’ll only allow so much insolence and insubordination from you. Spartak was treading dangerous ground when he started fucking my daughter!”

The words rang through the room like the lash of a whip, and both Joanna and Vitaly were silent for a moment, then Vitaly reached out across the desk, and dealt Yury a vicious blow that sent the man reeling back into his chair, staring up at his lieutenant with a look in which surprise and rage were nicely blended.

“Come, Joanna. We are out of here,” Vitaly said in a low voice.

Darting a quick look at a flabbergasted Yury, Joanna was out of her chair and following in Vitaly’s footsteps in a flash. She just had time to scoop up Ram, and then he took her hand and yanked her along, and the next moment, they were racing down the hallway, en route to the front door.

CHAPTER 19

As they were streaking past white marble statues of Greek gods and paintings of angels fighting demons, Ram yapping up a storm, Joanna briefly felt a surge of hope—hope that they would be able to break free from the iron grip of the madman who owned this chateau—owned them.

They hurtled across the hallway’s white marble floor, her small hand firmly grasped in Vitaly’s oversized mitt, and when the front door came into view, she knew they were going to make it. They were going to be free at last. Free from the dictator who ran this town like a madman of old.

But then a beefy man stepped into view, blocking their path, and fear soon trumped the exhilaration of their mad dash for freedom. From all corners of the place, men suddenly emerged, their expressions grim, their hands tightening around weapons, their intent obvious.

Her heart pounding, both from the exertion and the terror of seeing their way out blocked by half a dozen of Yury’s men, she gasped for breath, and when Vitaly abruptly changed course, and now yanked her along to the staircase, she slipped and fell, smashing her hip to the unyielding floor. Helping her to her feet, he half carried, half propelled her along, and then they were up and flying along the banister, fleeing to safety.

The moment their feet pounded on the landing, her scrambled brain trying to figure out where they were headed, she knew it was to no avail. Yury’s place was filled with his men, and wherever they turned, they were outnumbered and outgunned.

A door opened as they streaked past, and Joanna found herself briefly setting eyes on the same girl she’d met that morning in the garden.

“Vitaly?” the girl uttered, looking as startled as she was feeling. “What’s going on?”

But then they were out of hallway and had reached a set of French windows looking out onto a balcony. Vitaly flung the windows wide with a flick of his wrist, and they were out in the open. Without hesitation, he slung one leg over the balustrade and reached out an inviting hand.

Horrified, she cast a look down. Ivy had covered this part of the back wall over the years, but that was hardly a sturdy ladder to reach the ground.

“Come. We need to go now!” he urged, and then swung his other leg over and was gripping the ivy tight with one hand, the other still reaching out to her.

A crash behind them decided her. Quickly stepping over the balustrade, holding on tight to the parapet, she lowered herself beside him, then handed him the little doggie, who looked about as frightened as she was feeling, and then they were half falling, half climbing down to the ground below. Vitaly jumped clear of the ivy, set down Ram, and held out his hands.

“Jump!” he called out, and it was a testament to her faith in him that she did, indeed, take the plunge and jumped into his arms.

He deftly caught her, and her face was briefly level with his, his eyes giving her the strength she needed to go through with this mad escape attempt.

Then they were running full out along the garden path they’d taken that morning, past the garden house, and then they were out in the open, haring off at great speed, Ram having a blast, running as fast as his little feet could carry him.

They had to run, she knew, for Yury would never let them go. After the blow Vitaly had dealt the man, they were both dead meat.

Her breath coming in gasps, a stitch in her side warning her to slow down, she nevertheless gritted her teeth and pushed her legs and pumped her arms. They had to keep going—couldn’t slow down—not now when they were so close.

“There is another domain on the other side of that fence,” Vitaly explained as he pointed to the perimeter of Yury’s garden heaving into view. “Once we’re across, we’ll be safe. The other place belongs to a friend. He will protect us.”

Hope against hope once again surged in her bosom. Could it be? Could they escape Yury’s clutches and be free? Then her eyes flicked to a camera mounted on top of the fence, and she briefly wondered if Yury was watching them now. She was almost certain he was. Then they were at the fence, and suddenly a gunshot rang out, and she cried out in fear and shock.

“Let’s go!” exclaimed Vitaly, and grabbed her by the waist and practically hurled her up and over, then pressed Ram in her hands. She lowered the doggie to the other side, then gripped the top of the fence tight, and watched how three men came running up behind them, all carrying automatic weapons.

“Stop right there, Vitaly!” one of them screamed, then fired another salvo into the air.

They don’t dare to shoot him, she thought. He’s been their captain for so long, they don’t dare kill him! And as Vitaly paid them no mind and continued to climb the fence, her hope was borne out by the facts, as the three men aimed their guns but failed to pull the trigger.

They were going to make it! They really were going to—

Then one of the men did fire, and Vitaly cried out as the bullet tore into his back.

“Vitaly!”

She reached out a hand, and he took it, gritting his teeth, and continued to work his way up, but then another bullet hit right next to his face, and he lost his purchase and fell to the ground below.

“Keep going!” he yelled. “Keep going, Joanna.”

“I won’t leave you! I won’t!”

Starting to climb back down, she was struck by the cry of anguish that escaped his lips. “Honey,” he said, trying to keep his voice level in spite of the pain he must feel. “You have to leave me. Save yourself. You don’t know what that animal is capable of. He won’t merely kill you—he’ll…” he shook his head, the images the thought provoked too painful to bear.

She knelt down beside him. “I won’t leave you, Vitaly,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers. She didn’t know whence the words sprang, but she uttered them anyway. “There’s no life for me out there without you.”

He closed his eyes, pressing a kiss on her fingertips, then he reached into his pocket and brought out a gun and aimed it at her temple. “I won’t let that monster torture you, Joanna. I—I love you. I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you in that field.”

She understood, and nodded her assent, holding his gaze and seeing the truth of his words reflected in them. He did love her, and she loved him. She knew it now. Had known it.

“I’m so sorry, Joanna,” he croaked, then released the safety on the gun and shook his head in a silent apology.

She closed her eyes, then. If this was the way it was supposed to be, she accepted her fate. He was going to kill her, then kill himself, she knew. She’d read it in his eyes.

When the gun went off, she expected a searing pain. Instead, she felt nothing. Nothing at all.

CHAPTER 20

When her eyes flashed open, she knew it had all been for naught. Before her, the gun lay on the grass, Vitaly nursing his wounded gun hand where one of the men had shot it, and when she looked up, she saw they were surrounded by not three but eight men, staring down at them without a word, their eyes hard and unyielding.

One of them, she recognized as the man who’d paid her a visit last night. The one with the face like a rat. He was the only one who was smiling. That nasty smile of his. She had a feeling he was the one who’d shot Vitaly in the back. It was just like him to do such a cowardly thing.

“Please,” she spoke softly, reaching out a hand to Vitaly. “Don’t do this. You can still let us go. You don’t have to do this.”

Vitaly, panting, shook his head. It was clear he didn’t believe in asking for mercy. They’d gambled and lost, and now they were going to pay for it.

In a last ditch attempt to escape their fate, she reached for Vitaly’s gun, and when her fingers curled around it, she saw the look of panic in his eyes. The moment she raised the gun, she knew, they would kill her—kill them both. Since that was exactly what she wanted, she did it anyway. Swinging up the gun, she aimed it at the rat-faced one, certain he would respond to her challenge with eagerness and keen swiftness.

His little eyes widened with glee, and in the split second their eyes met, she saw the murderous intent reflected in them, and the yearning. Then he was raising his own weapon to match hers. He was a quick draw, and would have shot her in a heartbeat, had not another shot echoed through the air. No, not an echo. Two shots. One blew out the camera, the other hit the vicious killer in the chest. The man’s eyes widened in shock, his jaw dropped, and the next moment, he was falling to the ground, the look of astonishment etched on his features in death as it had in life.

Two men lowered their guns. One was built like a freight train, his bald pate one intricate tattoo. The other was a young man with curly blond hair.

“That’ll teach the bastard to shoot people in the back,” grunted the big man.

“Thanks, Boris,” Vitaly called out, then winced. “And you, Ruslan.”

“Any time, boss,” spoke the young man.

As if on cue, the others now reached down and helped Vitaly to his feet.

“What do you want us to do, my friend?” one of them asked solicitously.

Vitaly winced, blood oozing from his wound.

“If you could help us up and over, that would be fantastic,” he responded.

“Anything for you, boss,” one of the other men said, and then strong hands gripped Joanna, and she was pushed up the fence once more, and then she was anxiously watching as Vitaly’s large frame was granted the same treatment.

“Thanks, guys,” he was saying. “I’ll never forget this.” Then he turned his attention to the curly-haired one. “Care to come with us, Ruslan?”

The man shook his head. “Can’t leave Tatyana, Vitaly.”