Retribution (7 page)

“So even though she
assassinated your client you let her live?”

He nodded. “Secondly, and
this is the part might bother you a little, you have nothing to
worry from me. I’m not so lonely as to spy on you while you dress,
or sleep. I’m a professional, and you are a job.”

“Thank you, for putting
it
nicely
,” she
stated sarcastically. She was a thing, a contract. She also didn’t
need to be told that he didn’t have trouble finding a woman when he
needed one. He was in great shape, and pretty much what her friends
would describe as drop-dead gorgeous. Only it was wasted on her.
She would prefer if no man ever touched her again. There was a
visible shudder that went through her as those horrid memories
resurfaced.

He watched her closely, not
saying anything. He didn’t miss her physical response.

“You’ve killed men before,
though, haven’t you Mr. Casey?”

He hesitated before he
answered her. This was something he didn’t like to discuss, but
he’d already lied to her and for some reason couldn’t do it again.
“Yes.” To his surprise her expression didn’t change. She expected
that answer.

“You have that look in your
eyes like my father does. It was brief but I saw it. It’s like some
horrible things live there, but I never knew what it was until I’d
seen it again, and what kind of man carries that with
them.”

She was referring to her
captors. She’d seen them. Another slip of vulnerability. “Does
anyone know you saw them?”

She shot her wide eyes to
his realizing her mistake. She clamped her teeth together and felt
that cold shiver of terror creep through her.

He lifted his hand. “Put
your mind at ease. I won’t tell anyone.”

“My father would want to
know,” she countered softly, dreading his agreement. A single tear
finally escaped and trailed down her cheek. His eyes followed it.
She didn’t want her father to know. She didn’t want anyone to know.
They told her they weren’t done, and they would be returning if she
said anything. Yet, why didn’t they let her sister go too? She
would have given anything not to know what happened to
her.

“I’m sure he would.”
Meaning he still wasn’t going to tell him.

“He’s your boss
and—“

“Miss Nickolov,” he added
after her gaze narrowed, “Your father hired me to protect you
first, and foremost. This is something you’d rather keep to
yourself, and I’m willing to protect that interest.”

“I’m just not ready to say
anything.”

“I understand. Just think
before you speak about that subject again. This wasn’t your first
slip.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No.”

She couldn’t believe it.
Was she that blind to it? Maybe part of her did want to talk about
it, but he was right. If she slipped like that in front of her
father, he would make sure he dragged it out of her. “I’ll be
careful.”

“Good.”

There was something soft in
his voice. She tilted her head and looked into his eyes. As usual,
he returned her gaze confidently, as if he had nothing to hide. He
had beautiful eyes. They were grey, masculine, and surprisingly,
trusting now. As she thought before, he was not a normal mercenary
like her father usually hires. From the polish of his boots, she
believed him when he said was once military. He’d probably seen
some horrible things—losing his friends in horrible ways in some
war. Yes, he probably did understand why she couldn’t talk about
it. In fact he was probably the only one. “You’ve lost people
you’ve loved, haven’t you?” she saw him swallow and the muscle
tensed in his jaw, but his expression didn’t waver. “Who?” It was
the first time he looked away from her. There was a long stretch of
silence and she knew not to interrupt him. He was debating on
telling her. If she urged him, she had a suspicion he wouldn’t let
her in on it. She needed to know more about him if she was going to
trust him, so she would give him the time. He had a stunning
profile. She took a moment to look at it more closely. He had a
square masculine jaw dusted with dark stubble, and his nose was
autocratic, and straight. He had a tan, from time spent outdoors.
He had chiseled cheekbones and deep set eyes—stunning eyes. Yes, he
was very different from what her father usually hired and she
started to be glad he was. He looked at her again, and her heart
actually jumped as his eyes locked with hers. He was still
composed, but when he spoke there was a barely discernable crack in
his voice.

“My older brother.” He
needed her trust to help him do his job right and find who murdered
his brother. He despised himself for using his memory this way, but
it may gain him an edge so he was honest. Her lips parted in a
silent gasp.

Without thinking, she
moved toward him, reached out and touched his arm. “I’m sorry.
I’m
really
sorry.” The words were heartfelt. She felt guilty for
bringing up his pain. At least she now knew they had something in
common. It was unfortunate it had to be the deep grief of sibling
loss, but at least she knew the man was human after all. It was
hard to see, but there was a softness in him. That was probably
something she would have never seen before but things had changed
for her. “You understand, then, what I’ve been through.”

He stared down at her and
nodded. Yes, he could understand. However, she had it worse, much
worse. He was trained to take the torture, abuse, and loss of those
close to him, she wasn’t.

She ran a hand through her
hair and pursed her lips. “Can you promise me something?” Her
expression firmed.

“It depends.”

“If you get your hands on
those men that raped and killed my sister, I want you to make sure
they never see daylight again.” She meant it. She meant every word
from the bottom of her soul. Anna’s screams haunted her
nights.

Oh, that he could certainly
do. One less drug dealer and rapist in Miami would be a pleasure.
“As you wish,” he agreed without hesitation.

She gave bittersweet smile.
Yes, maybe this man was exactly what she needed right
now.

A knock on the door brought
her back out of her thoughts and before she could even take a step
toward it Ryan was there. He cast her a quick glance to stay put
before he opened it a crack and exchanged words with whoever was on
the other side. Then he shut it.

“Who was it?”

“One of your father’s men.
Your father has arranged for you to see a Psychiatrist. He’s
downstairs, in the library.”

“My father can arrange
anything he wants.” She sat on the edge of her bed and stared out
the window.

Ryan knew she was going to
be stubborn about this, and he didn’t like Peter at all, but he did
agree with what her father did. She was clearly traumatized and
needed some help getting through this. He certainly wasn’t one that
could make her feel better, because he’d seen worse and was no
therapist, nor did he have the desire to become one. “Go see this
person.”

She stood and looked at
him. It wasn’t in the form of a question but she made sure she gave
him an answer. “No.”

“Miss Nickolov—“

“You need to call me
Katya—or Kat. I can’t have someone calling me that last name. It’s
too hard to deal with. Especially since my father is Mr. Nickolov.
Please.”

“All right,” he said
easily. He didn’t really care what she wanted him to call her as
long as she listened.

“I’m still not going,” she
repeated seeing him still standing there.

“You are.” His tone was
laced with authority.

Her mouth fell. “You are in
no position to—”

“—
I am. I am your
protection whether you like it or not. I need you sound. You cannot
sit there with pride and stubbornness and tell me that you’re fine.
I’ve seen the unshed tears and trembling when there’s even a near
mention of—“

“—
You son of
a—”

“—
You need to deal with
this sooner or later. Sooner means that you start the healing
process and I have a better chance of protecting you without some
sort of relapse episode.”

She couldn’t believe her
ears! He was more concerned about his job than her emotional state.
How dare he use her small visible vulnerabilities against her. She
thought he was being a gentleman by not mentioning them, but now he
did, and it made her feel weak! She was about to let her temper
loose when he held up his hand to cut her off again.

“I’m not being cold
Katya.”

“No, of course not, you’re
a real
sweetheart
,” she shot back glaring at him.

“I need you to be able to
listen if something comes up. I can’t have you unfocused,” he
explained, which was a rare occasion for him, but he’d never
guarded a traumatized client before, or a female. She was already
proving to be a handful. He expected a meek and brow beaten woman,
but here was this stubborn, opinionated, one instead. She may not
realize it but sending her to boarding schools in Europe was
probably the best thing for her. Her father would have had her
shriveling at his feet like he did with all women.

“I don’t need a shrink.
I’ve never needed one in my life. All I need is time.”

“Those are words that have
been repeated a lot in my line of work. Time does not help. It
makes the demons worse and soon you’re bouncing around in a
cushioned room. I should know. I’ve seen men, strong men, go down
that path and not come back. Now, either you go, or I toss you over
my shoulder and take you myself.”

Katya refused to be
intimidated despite the foreboding image he gave off. She was sure
that no one refused him anything, but she sure as heck will. She
turned her face away to focus on something else on the far wall and
raised her chin defiantly.

A woman’s screech brought
the servants out of the various rooms leading off the main entrance
as Ryan came down the stairs with Katya over his shoulder like a
sack of flower. “Which way is the Library?” he asked a maid, who
pointed at one door with a wide-eyed expression.

“You are a beast!” Katya
screeched flailing her legs as Ryan walked toward the door that the
maid indicated and opened it. She struck his back with her good
hand even though it didn’t even seem as if he noticed.

He ignored her and opened
the door. “You the Doc?” he asked an older man who stood up
abruptly when he entered. He was short, small in stature and kind
of reminded Ryan of the Monopoly guy, only he wore spectacles not a
monocle.

“Who are—Good
Lord
is that Miss
Nickolov?” The psychiatrist’s face fell in an expression of
shock.

“Yes.” He walked over to
the sofa, bent over and plunked her unceremoniously on it. She
managed to strike him a couple of more times followed by a glare
that could melt ice. “I am not a sack of potatoes!”

“Stay put. I’ll be right
outside that door.” He pointed a finger in her face followed by a
stern look.

She bit her lip to keep
from crying and folded her good arm across the one in the sling and
refused to look at him. If she did, she’d end up bursting into
tears, and there was no way in hell she was going to show weakness
in her father’s house in front of his employees. It would only
prove the man was right about her needing help.

He shrugged and left the
room shutting the door behind him. He stood next to the closed
door. He intended on staying there while she spoke with the
psychiatrist. Chances were she wasn’t going to say anything, but it
was a start. Several servants passed him but he remained there with
his arms folded across his chest and his feet shoulder with apart.
No one was getting in or out of that room without his
permission.

After an hour the door
opened and he stepped aside as Katya came out. She shot him a hot
look of contempt before she went by him up the stairs.

To Ryan it didn’t matter
how angry she was with him because it took the focus off of what
happened to her. If that’s how she needed to do it, then it was
fine. He leaned into the room. “Did she talk to you?”

“No, but something like
this takes time. She’s been traumatized.” The older man said as he
put his notepad in his suitcase. “Are you her
boyfriend?”

“Personal
security.”

“That makes sense then,” he
said snapping the briefcase shut and walking by him. Then he paused
and turned back. “I’ll be back this Friday. Could you possibly
refrain from hauling her in the room by her hair like a victorious
caveman? She’s in a fragile place right now.”

It was obvious the man did
not approve of his methods, but hey, she showed up. “If she goes, I
won’t.”

“She will. I don’t think
she wants to go through that again.”

When Ryan returned to her
room she was in the bathroom. He listened at the door for a moment
and heard the shower. Satisfied, he turned and went back to his
room to unpack closing the adjoining door to a crack to give her
some privacy. He had two large black Samsonite suitcases and one
large polished aluminum case resting on his bed. He lifted the
aluminum one off the bed and slid it underneath. Then he started
unpacking his clothing. His keen ears picked up her moving around
her room a few minutes later. Then silence. Chances are, she was
angry with him, exhausted and retired for the night. He should do
the same. Instead, he pulled out his iPad and intended to go over
the file he’d had on her. It was encrypted, and unless you were a
genius hacker, there was no way you could break into it so he
wasn’t worried about bringing it with him. Besides, most of those
geniuses were employed at his organization.