Her Ruthless Russian (Karev Brothers Book 1) Read online

  "Peter said it wasn't him," Madison was muttering. "He said he didn't murder your father, Vlad."

  "I don't care about that."

  "He was investigating Maxim," she said in a rush. "Your brother. They had an argument the night Sergey was killed, about Maxim cutting ties and leaving the family business. Peter overheard them; he told me all this before he—"

  "We don't have to talk about it now." Vlad steered her toward the back of one of the flashing cars. "Savannah's on her way. She's been trying to call you." He held up her phone and watched some of the debilitating shock fade from Madison's wide brown eyes. She reached for her phone, and he held it away from her.

  "Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" he asked pointblank.

  "Oh, God." Madison buried her face in her hands, her red hair littered with glass—or diamonds, or both—spilling past her ears to hide her sudden misery from him. "I thought you came to rescue me from the sniper, not continue his work for him. Yes, Vlad, I took a test."

  "So you left the kit out where I could see it?" he demanded. He was immediately remorseful for his harsh words when he saw her face fall. He felt no less vindicated in his questioning, but the resigned expression Madison wore in the face of his fury made him feel the villain. It was a role he was used to inhabiting; now, he wanted to personally vanquish the person responsible for her misery. He didn't think his head could be more turned around than it was.

  "Yes," she confirmed, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do. I guess I thought I could invite a reaction from you without mentioning it directly… I guess I thought I could know how you really felt about the situation before I spoke to you. I was a coward. I know that. But it was all so shocking…such a surprise."

  Vlad exhaled sharply, a long gust through his nostrils as he considered the woman before him. "No… not a coward. Never a coward," he replied. His fingers found the proud jut of her chin. He raised her face up until her eyes met his own. Sorrow swam in those familiar brown depths, but she didn't give herself over to crying.

  "How do you feel about this?" he asked her. "Truthfully."

  He knew how important honesty was to her. He knew that now, more than ever before, was a moment to share truths between them.

  Madison half-gasped a laugh of surprise. "About carrying a child of the mob? About being an expecting single mother complicit to a money-laundering scheme and surrounded by murderers? I'm terrified." Her eyes took on a sudden steel that Vlad had never seen before. "But you just said, I'm not a coward. So you won't be surprised to know I intend to keep the baby. Just also know that I—we—won't expect anything from you," she concluded. "This child is going to grow up knowing he or she is safe and loved. No matter what."

  "How can I object to those terms?" Vlad asked her. "Did you really think I would be angry?" His expression softened as he gazed down into her stricken face. "We aren't fighting, Madison. Though I can't guarantee we won't in the future," he concluded as his hand drifted from her chin to the soft plane of her stomach concealed beneath her shirt. He touched her with wonder, with reverence, knowing now what secrets developed within her. He understood now, everything Dmitry had been trying to tell him. How could he have not seen it before? Everything that was important to him, and everything that he cherished, was standing right in front of him. It had been in front of him for a long time.

  "The future?" Madison echoed his words, blinking in disbelief. "I… that's…" Now the tears were no longer just a threat; they spilled over, wetting her cheeks and lashes with the crystal-clear evidence of her anguish. "I don't know if we can have a future together, Vlad. Not when things are so complicated. Not when I can't reconcile the life you choose with the life I want for this child."

  "There will be no reconciliation necessary," Vlad promised. "I am getting you, and your family's business, out of the mafia's line of fire. You'll have nothing to fear from my father's organization ever again."

  "And you?" The question ghosted past her trembling lips. "What about you, Vlad? Do you intend to carry on with your father's organization?"

  "I intend to carry on with my investigation in whatever way I can," he said. The hand on her stomach slid to the small of her back, and he wound his arms around her waist, reeling her in tight against him. "But as for the mob, I'm out. I've done my time; enough time to know what matters most."

  Madison sobbed and buried her face in his chest. Vlad raised a hand, but he had no intention of relinquishing her. Instead, he cradled the back of her head, letting her hair cascade through his fingertips. He let the day's events catch up with her, momentarily overwhelm her, but he knew the tears wouldn't last. This was Madison O’Connor, after all: the object of his all-consuming passion, and now the mother of his child. There was no danger in the world he would allow to touch her life ever again.

  Even if it meant he had to pull down the entire world in the process.

  "I choose you," he murmured into the crown of her hair. "Both of you. I choose us."

  It was the easiest choice Vlad had ever made in his life.

  Epilogue

  If Madison O’Connor never saw another moving van, it would still be too soon.

  "Can you just… can you not set that there on the grass?" she stressed to the man in coveralls. Her hand sought out the distended swell of her belly, as it often did nowadays when she needed to summon reserves of mental strength. She felt the baby give a little kick in response.

  The mover glanced from Madison's face to her stomach and back up again. He switched the toothpick he chewed from the right side of his mouth to his left, his expression unchanged. Madison wanted to leap across the sidewalk and snap that damn toothpick in half, but was uncertain if she still had the agility required to pull off the move. She settled for being direct.

  "It rained last night," she clarified, trying to smile through her clenched teeth. She wasn't sure it worked. What's more, she wasn't sure the mover cared about whether she was being cordial at this point. "So when you set the boxes down, the water leeches through the cardboard and gets everything inside the box wet: dishes, books, undisclosed firearms. Do you comprehend any of what I'm saying to you?" she finally erupted when the man took off his hat to scratch his head.

  "Lay off, lady," another mover advised her as he exited down the ramp of the van. "We know what we're doing. Harping on us ain't good for the baby."

  "Excuse me?" Madison exclaimed. "I didn't realize I was in the presence of… of doctors!"

  It wasn't her finest comeback, and she was mentally kicking herself as much as the baby was when the weight of a familiar arm settled itself across her shoulders, its sudden intrusion effectively calming both mother and child. Madison turned helplessly, taking in Vlad's expression and surprised to find he wore a look of casual amusement. The movers returned to work without a word, although they looked decidedly less intimidated than Madison would have liked.

  "You're losing your touch," she muttered, reaching up to grab hold of the tattooed hand that dangled limply off her shoulders.

  "I have no interest in telling anyone how to do their job anymore. Except you," Vlad corrected himself thoughtfully. "You work too hard."

  "Great," Madison muttered, crossing her arms above her belly in defeat. "When we agreed you'd exit your line of work, I didn't realize you'd be putting your managerial experience to such effective use in our relationship."

  The couple stood together on the dew-damp lawn, watching in thoughtful silence as their new life took shape before them. The house was a single-story structure with two bedrooms; nothing fancy, but after living in an apartment for all of her adult life, Madison thought it was the perfect place to start a family.

  "Three moving companies, Vlad," she stated. "Three. That's three that I've gone through in this city, and I'm not sure there are any more left. I swear they must talk about me amongst themselves. I bet they get together wherever movers go for a beer after work and map out new ways to make my life miserable."

  "You're
paranoid," Vlad replied. "Trust me, it's a compliment. You won't sleep well, but at least you'll be awake and ready when they come for you in the night."

  "You can take the man out of the mob, but you can't take the mob out of the man," Madison sighed in exasperation. "But thank you for the compliment, I guess?"

  "You're welcome."

  Madison burst out laughing as Vlad punctuated his words by sweeping her off her feet. She was only five months along, but that didn't change the fact that she was weighing in for two now. Most days she felt gargantuan, but her lover still had a way of making her feel absolutely beautiful.

  Vlad carried her up the walk to their new home, brushing past several movers on their way out; Madison blushed furiously, knowing that after seeing her like this, none of them would ever take her seriously again.

  "Let them do their job," Vlad advised quietly, as if reading her thoughts. "If I can let others take on the investigation into my father's murder, then you can definitely take a step back from bossing around the hired help."

  "If it's on your mind, then let Savannah help you," Madison pleaded as the Russian carried her into the living room. "Please, Vlad. She's only a phone call away."

  "Are you saying she hasn't already inserted herself completely into the investigation?" Vlad asked as he deposited her on the couch. "Because I hear differently. I may not be donning the suit anymore, Madison, but that doesn't mean I don't have my finger on the pulse of my father's organization."

  Madison winced. "So long as it's not wrapped around a trigger," she muttered. "All I'm saying is you can trust her. There's no way the person responsible for Sergey's death is going to get away with it. Not with Savannah on the case."

  "I have a case for her," Vlad said as he settled himself down on the couch beside her. Madison inserted herself beneath his arm once more and snuggled close, deciding she could care less what the movers thought about PDA. "A case involving sculptures mysteriously full of diamonds."

  "You'll have enough to worry about once we get our new insurance business up and running—which those same sculptures could have used, by the way." Madison sighed as she settled her hand on her stomach. "I'm tired of mysteries, Vlad. I thought I could relax now that we're forging a new life for ourselves, but maybe we're taking on too much already. A new house, a new pursuit, a new little life to take care of…"

  "I couldn't do it alone," Vlad admitted. He closed one of his inked hands over her own, a gesture meant to comfort and protect. Madison stared at that hand in awe. She would have never thought the inked hands of Vlad Karev would shield her from a world he had helped to make so dangerous. If loving her this fiercely was the lone wolf's penance for past crimes, then maybe he stood a real chance, in time, of learning to forgive himself.

  "You won't have to do it alone," Madison promised. "You've got us now. We're your pack."

  "You're my family," Vlad corrected. He leaned in for a kiss, and Madison received him happily, winding her arms around his neck as he pressed her back against the couch. She ignored the crash of a dropped box outside, choosing instead to listen to the crash of her pulse, the racing of her blood, as Vlad caught her lips and carried her off in a moment of pure, ecstatic bliss.

  Whatever their future together may hold, Madison O’Connor knew whose painted arms were holding her—and for someone who majored in art history, she thought she could appreciate a complementary piece when she saw one.

  End of Her Ruthless Russian

  The Karev Brothers Series

  Book One

  Book Two of the Karev Brothers, Her Rogue Russian, will be available January 12th 2017

  PLUS do you love sexy men of action? Read an exclusive excerpt from Leslie North’s bestselling novel, Shooting the SEAL (Saving the SEALS series Book 1) below.

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  Blurb from

  Shooting the SEAL

  Saving the SEALS Series Book 1

  With the clock ticking, Navy SEAL Gage Jackelsn must uncover the truth about his fallen teammate before he and his brothers-in-arms take the blame. When his intel leads him to a publishing company, he never dreamed he’d end up as a romance cover model. He’ll do whatever it takes to get closer to the information he needs, but when he meets Anna—the photographer with the striking eyes and sultry voice—it just may be worth it.

  Photographer Anna Middleton has shot her share of male models, but none that are real-life SEALs. She’s not sure why the tall, muscular military man would want to pose as a romance hero, but she doesn’t have much time to wonder before her boss disappears under suspicious circumstances. Soon she’s thrust into the middle of a situation that could mean life or death.

  When Gage realizes how much trouble Anna is in, he’ll do what he can to shield her from the danger that always follows him. But with the scars from her past that she keeps hidden, can Anna ever trust him if she learns their meeting was based on a lie?

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  Exclusive Excerpt from

  Shooting the SEAL

  Saving the SEALS Series Book 1

  Gage Jackelson decided he’d rather be in the middle of a fire fight on open water than standing in the front of a green screen in nothing more than his jeans, feeling like a hunk of meat on a slab.

  What looked like a Gothic fairy—heavy on the black eye-liner and dyed hair and complete with what looked a pink tutu trimmed in more black—flitted about him, dusting powder on him and muttering about cheekbones.

  This was ridiculous. He stood, arms folded, wondering how he could get out of this. But he couldn’t. He had to start thinking of this like a mission. So he let the fairy fuss.

  The elevator pinged, and he hoped the photographer had finally arrived and he could wrap up this charade, get the intel they needed, and get his shirt back on. The things he’d do for a friend—even a dead one.

  Hearing steps, he glanced over and watched a young woman walk into the studio—okay, warehouse was a better name for it. A loft with more ceiling space than floor space, white walls and photos hung on them. Dirt glazed the windows, but he had enough light on him that he kept breaking a light sweat.

  The woman stepped in front of him, head cocked, and stared at him. He could feel his skin warm. He’d been on the other side of that kind of assessment—had been eyeing the girls just last week with Scotty making his usual crude remarks, and Spencer sipping his tequila. This woman would have rated a second look and one of Scotty’s terrible pick-up lines.

  Eyes blue as the Mediterranean Sea fixed on him. Tight jeans encased long legs—he’d always been a leg man—and a white silk blouse said she had money enough to afford good clothes. Golden hair had been pulled back from a heart-shaped face. She didn’t wear much makeup that he could see, and he caught a flash of gold earrings. But those eyes kept pulling him back for another look. Who the hell was she? The photographer’s girlfriend?

  Turning, she walked over to the camera—not a digital, but something big and old and also expensive-looking. She stared through the lens and then looked up at him. “Gage Jackelson,” she said the name as if she was thinking of something else. She propped a fist on one hip. “I keep wondering why’d a Navy SEAL agree to a cover shoot.” A guy could feel quite warm wrapped up in her sultry tone.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “And you are?”

  She stepped up and reached out to shake his hand. “Anna Middlet
on.”

  Gage nodded. The photos on the walls all had Middleton signed to them. He was going to guess not the photographer’s wife—no ring on her finger. He fought the urge to hold her hand longer than he should, but he caught a flush of color in her cheeks. She tilted her head up to look at him and he could swear he caught a flash of surprise in those sea-blue eyes.

  Pulling her hand back, he watched as she tucked it behind her back before turning to grab the camera off its stand.

  “Did Linda explain how this works?”

  Linda—the Gothic fairy—flashed a smile at him. She trailed a finger down his forearm. “You’ll do great. He’s set, Anna.” She ducked away.

  Gage glanced at Anna and her camera. “How hard is it to smile for the camera?” Gage drawled. His fingers stopped tingling since he touched her, and he was itching to do so again. Or possibly run his fingers through that soft cloud of hair.

  “You’d be surprised.” Her wide mouth twitched at the corners. “We’ll start without props, but Linda will bring a few in later.”

  “Props?” Gage lifted both eyebrows.

  Anna took a couple of shots, the camera clicking. “We use a green screen so we can drop in any background, but it’s easier to use anything that you will be touching in the actual photos.” Stepping back to the tripod, Anna set the camera on it. She looked through the camera lens, paused and looked back up at him. “Um, you’re looking a little stiff.”

  Linda gave a snort of amusement, tried to hide it with a cough. Gage smiled, and Anna gave Linda a dirty look before turning back to Gage. “Any chance you can relax? Loosen up? Look less like you’re standing in front of a camera?”