Mafia Hitman's Daring Lover Read online

  “Desi, stop struggling!” Grigori issued the harsh demand, struggling with the keys to unlock the passenger door.

  Chapter 9

  Desi stopped upon hearing her name and asked, “How do you know my name?”

  Grigori flung open the door and bent to deposit her on the leather seat. “We met this morning,” he told her, pulling off the ski mask and grinning at her.

  Desi only could stare, and then she got angry. “What in the hell were you thinking, sneaking into Ivan’s like that? You could have been killed. Did you even know if he was still in there?”

  Grigori grinned at her. “Buckle up. We’ll talk in a minute. We really do need to get away from here.” He wouldn’t mind engaging Ivan and his men, but not with Desi caught in the middle.

  Desi moved to scoot off the seat. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” The man from this morning. Greg something or other. He doesn’t look like a Greg. He looks dangerous.

  “Yes, you are.” Grigori reached across her, pushing her back into the seat, and deftly clicked the seat belt in place. Jogging around the vehicle, he had the engine purring and was pulling away from the curb before Desi could get her seat belt undone.

  “Where are you taking me?” Desi could hear the note of fear in her voice and tried to calm her breathing and focus on getting away. “Are you taking me to Ivan?”

  “No! Why would I be taking you to Ivan? I just broke into his place.”

  Desi thought about that. “Yes, you did. Do you work for those other men?”

  Grigori wasn’t in the mood to play twenty questions. “Look, just sit back and be quiet until we get there.”

  “Where are we going?” If I can get away from him, whom do I call for help? That thought had her falling headlong into depression. I have no one I can call.

  “Someplace we can talk without the fear of being overheard. What were you doing following me?”

  “I didn’t know I was following you,” Desi answered, taking exception to the way he had manhandled her.

  “I got that,” Grigori said, rubbing his stomach where she had kneed him several times. A few inches lower and he would have been singing soprano for some time to come. For someone so much smaller than he, she sure put up a good fight. Before he could stop himself, his mind wandered. Is she a lioness in bed as well? Or does she purr like a kitten? God, where did that thought come from?

  He looked at her, hoping to find something to push that thought away, but instead, his mind kept going down the road to perdition. She was still struggling with the seat belt, so he reached over and grabbed her hand. When she tried to pull it away, he squeezed it and gave her a warning look.

  She tried to pull her arm away once more, and when he didn’t release her hand, she gave a small groan of frustration, the sound travelling straight to his gut and causing his body to harden even more. He grinned at her struggle, and she struggled even more. He was more than a foot taller than she was and outweighed her by over a hundred pounds. She’s not going anywhere until I say so!

  “You think this is funny? Let go of me!” Desi struggled to remember any piece of her self-defense training that might help her in this situation, but she came up with nothing.

  “No.”

  Desi pulled once more, only succeeding in pulling their clasped hands over into her lap. His knuckles brushed against the tops of her thighs, sending shards of pleasure straight to her core, adding to her confusion. She shivered in reaction, and when he let go of her hand a moment later, she tucked it between her thighs, trying to still her reaction.

  Grigori watched her from the corner of his eye and inwardly grinned at her reaction. She wasn’t immune to his nearness, and even though she’d protested him keeping hold of her hand, he’d felt her body’s reaction to his touch. She’d like having me touch her. Liked the danger and excitement of struggling against my hold.

  That thought started his mind wondering what she was like in bed. Would she get excited if he pinned her down? Or would she become the aggressor, fighting him for control? Grigori could find pleasure in both. He’d often mixed a little kink in with his physical relationships, the slight edge of danger and the forbidden adding something to the mix that he found fascinating and highly enjoyable.

  Grigori steered the Humvee into the back parking lot of the hotel and backed into the parking spot next to the dumpster. Turning the engine off, he turned to see her looking at the hotel with a light of battle in her eyes.

  “We are going to quietly go inside and up to my room. Once there, you and I are going to have a chat.” Grigori leveled her with a stare, trying to inject a little fear in her, enough so that she would obey and not put up more of a struggle. He didn’t want to scare her, but he also didn’t want to draw a lot of attention to the fact that he was bringing a woman back to his room in the wee hours of the morning.

  Desi shook her head and then glanced at her watch: 4:45 a.m. God, she was tired! “We don’t have anything to talk about.” She resisted the urge to reach up and rub the bump on the back of her head. It had now been six hours since she last took some aspirin, and it was beginning to throb once again.

  Add to that the slight throbbing that had begun in her nose and between her eyes from hanging upside down and the bruises she would most certainly see on her ribs come morning, and she was not in the mood to accommodate anyone’s wishes but her own.

  Reaching for the door handle, she almost got it open before Grigori hit the automatic lock. Glaring at him, she demanded, “Open the door.”

  “Only once you’ve agreed to come inside with me.” Grigori crossed his arms over his chest, causing the sleeves of his long black T-shirt to ride above his wrists. Desi’s eyes were drawn to the tattoos barely visible, and it was several moments before she could make herself look somewhere else.

  “Desi?” he inquired when she simply stared at his arms blankly. She looks exhausted. He narrowed his eyes as he perused her face, then asked, “How long has your head been hurting?”

  “All day,” she murmured without thinking. When she raised her eyes to his own, she realized what she’d said and blushed at the look of censure on his face. “I’m okay.”

  “You needed medical attention this morning.”

  “No. I didn’t.” A yawn worked its way into her jaws and she struggled to keep it hidden. “I need to get going. It’s late.”

  “Precisely. Let’s go,” Grigori told her, exiting the vehicle and waiting for her to follow suit.

  “Look, Greg—”

  “Not Greg.” Grigori wasn’t sure why he felt the need to tell her the truth, but she seemed fragile, and after watching her interaction with Dennis, he somehow knew she would never understand subterfuge.

  “What?” Desi asked, confused and quickly losing control of the conversation. Her headache was becoming more prominent, as was the nausea and sense of being out of control.

  “I’ll explain upstairs. Come on. We’ll talk, and then if you want to leave, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” Grigori closed his door and walked to the front of the SUV to wait.

  “I can walk,” Desi offered, dreading the two extra blocks she would need to traverse in order to reach her car’s hiding place from the rear. You can do it. Tell the nice man “good-bye” and take off.

  Opening the SUV’s door, she attempted to do just that. She avoided his gaze, keeping the car door open instead and effectively blocking any chance he had of grabbing her. She slipped behind the Dumpster and then skirted quickly behind the cars until she found a small gap in the fence.

  She could hear him coming after her, but she didn’t waste any time looking to see how close he was. She pushed at the chain link fence in front of her and managed to get one leg and one arm through the fence before she felt him bearing down on her.

  She struggled to complete her escape, but her shirt had gotten caught on part of the fence and the only way she could continue her forward progress was to either remove the shirt or tear herself free. She could feel
the tears fill her eyes as she struggled to get away, but all that did was blur her vision, keeping her from seeing him reach her position and stop to watch her struggle.

  Grigori felt like yelling, he was so frustrated with the young woman currently trying to free herself from where the chain link fencing had pierced her shirt. He probably would have blasted her if she hadn’t chosen that moment to look up at him, tears spilling from her eyes and trailing own her cheeks.

  God, he couldn’t stand it when women cried. Images of the women in the jungle came rushing back at him and he staggered back a step. No one will ever hurt her like that. Never! He didn’t stop to analyze his feelings; he just reacted to them.

  Reaching down, he unhooked the fabric of her shirt while pulling her back through the fence, being careful not to cut her on the metal. “Desi, stop fighting me. We’re going upstairs. Now.”

  Desi shook her head but put up no resistance when he simply picked her up in his arms and headed towards the rear entrance. He opened the door with the keycard, then used the same card to call the elevator.

  Desi tried to distance herself from his strength, but it was hard. His chest was warm, he smelled fantastic, and for some reason she couldn’t stop the tears that were silently running down her cheeks. She didn’t even think of trying to get away. She was suddenly very tired, and hurting, and just wanted this night to end.

  Grigori watched her with concern in his eyes. She had gone very passive in his arms, something he wouldn’t have thought she had in her. She was crying, but silently. He jostled her in his arms, and then he felt the butt of the gun sticking up from the back of her jeans.

  Chapter 10

  “Are you armed?” he asked incredulously.

  Desi nodded absently. “Why?”

  “Do you even know how to shoot?” God, I’m glad she didn’t pull that on me while I was driving!

  Desi looked so offended for a brief moment, and then she started laughing hysterically. Her laughing caused more tears to spill from her eyes, and as the elevator opened on the fourth floor, Grigori clapped a hand over her mouth. “Shush! People are sleeping,” he whispered to her.

  Desi tried to stop her laughing, but his question had hit a nerve and she found she couldn’t stop any more than she could stop breathing.

  “What are you laughing at?” he growled, heading towards the end of the hallway.

  “You! You asked me if I could shoot.”

  “A logical question in my opinion.”

  Desi laughed once again, then calmly told him, “I was top of my class in firearms.”

  “Class?”

  “The police academy. Nobody thought I could do it, but I showed them all. And I’m going to show them all once again when I catch Ivan.”

  “Whoa! Back up a minute.” Grigori opened the door to his room, shouldered his way inside, and set her down on the nearest bed. “Police academy?” God, had he just accosted a cop? She didn’t seem like a cop. Way to go, Gri! The first woman to interest you in forever, and she’s on the wrong side of the law.

  “Yep.” Desi didn’t feel like herself. Between her earlier injuries, the stress of the last hour, and the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on, she felt almost giddy and not quite herself. What’s wrong with me?

  Grigori went to the minibar and opened one of the small bottles of vodka and a can of cranberry juice. Mixing the two, he swirled it and handed it to her. “Drink.”

  Desi sniffed the liquid and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t usually drink.” She looked up at him with wide, tear-stained eyes, and he abruptly turned away from her.

  “Drink it anyway. It will help calm you down.”

  “But…,” Desi began to argue, but then she stopped as Grigori took another bottle of vodka and downed it all in one long swallow. When he met her gaze in the large mirror situated over the desk, she looked away quickly and took a small sip of the drink.

  The vodka was strong but the cranberry juice made it tolerable, and she slowly sipped it, looking at her hands between sips. She closed her eyes as the alcohol began to work its way through her system and listened as he began to move around the room.

  She opened her eyes when she felt him take the glass from her hands, and as she looked up at him, her breath caught in her throat. The chemistry between them was potent and the atmosphere in the hotel room was suddenly tense, with just a hint of danger lurking in the shadows.

  “I should go,” Desi murmured, still watching his eyes.

  “No.” Grigori sat beside her on the bed, letting his hand drift over the crown of her head before it slid along the back of her skull. When she gasped in pain and lurched away from him, he grabbed her by the shoulders. “What the hell?”

  He turned her around and parted her hair so he could see the large purplish bump on the back of her head. “Did you do this when you hit the concrete yesterday?”

  Desi reached up and gingerly probed the large bump on her head. “I guess so. I had a headache all day yesterday, but—”

  “Derr mo.” Grigori turned her back around and lifted her head up with a finger under her chin. He gazed into her eyes, then narrowed his at how uneven her pupils seemed. She’s got a concussion.

  He tipped her head this way and that, cursing once more in Russian, before he left her and headed into the bathroom.

  Desi watched him go, a bemused expression on her face. She didn’t feel all that well, and while she knew there was something she needed to be doing, the soft mattress beneath her butt was softly calling her to lie down and take a short nap.

  Giving into that urge, she scooted back onto the bed and curled into a ball, pulling her knees into her chest to help hold herself together. Her head hurt and her nose and between her eyes were throbbing in time with her heartbeat once again, and between the alcohol and the adrenaline drop, she couldn’t fight the need for sleep one more minute.

  Grigori filled a glass with water, poured two aspirin out of the bottle, and wet a washcloth with warm water. He glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror and stared. What the fuck are you doing? You’re supposed to be finding a way to get to Leonid and ridding the world of the Ryndin brothers. Not playing nursemaid to some girl with a death wish.

  Grigori shook his head at his reflection and headed back into the bedroom. He stopped upon seeing Desi curled up on the bed. She had her head pillowed on her folded hands and her knees drawn up to her chest, and she looked so young. He once again wondered where his brain was.

  She’s a fricking cop! She’s also gorgeous and has your body reacting whether you want it to or not. Grigori sat the glass and tablets on the side table, then pulled an extra blanket from the closet and draped it over her sleeping form. He removed her shoes, and she still didn’t stir. He quickly removed her gun from the waistband of her jeans, letting his fingers linger against her smooth skin only slightly longer than necessary.

  He checked her pockets but found nothing other than her car keys. No badge. No identification. What had Dennis said her name was? Desiree Anthony? Desiree Appleton? Desiree Addams! He’d contact Stefan when it wasn’t quite so early and see what information he could come up with on his sleeping guest. It always paid to know whom you were dealing with.

  There was only one bed in the room, so Grigori sat his large frame down on the short couch and turned the TV on. He flipped through the channels for a while, then grabbed the envelope of info Stefan had given him upon his arrival. He spread the materials, pictures, and other info out on the coffee table, trying to figure out his next move.

  Remembering the papers he’d taken from Ivan’s office at the dry cleaner, he pulled several pages of handwritten notes from his back pocket. One had been taken from a ledger book, showing dates, times, initials, and a series of numbers that probably coincided with quantity of drug and money.

  Two hours later, he was pulled from his study by Desi stirring on the bed. She had stretched out during her nap, and he watched with interest as she stretched her arms above her head, causing he
r T-shirt to rise up her abdomen.

  Her skin was nicely tanned, her stomach flat with just a hint of muscles beneath. Her jeans rode just below her navel, and as she continued to stretch, Grigori let his eyes leisurely enjoy her body. She was so small compared to him, the top of her head barely coming to his shoulder. His eyes moved upwards, only to stop when they encountered warm brown orbs that were looking at him in confusion.

  Chapter 11

  “Greg?” she whispered, confusion marring her features. No, that’s not right. He told me his name wasn’t Greg. But I don’t remember what it is. Her eyes closed as the pain in her head overcame her ability to think.

  “Headache?” Grigori inquired, rising from the couch and going to sit on the edge of the bed. He handed her the two aspirin and the glass of water. “Try these.”

  Desi opened her eyes and looked at the pills. “What are they?”

  “So suspicious,” Grigori teased her. When she only looked at him and didn’t even crack a smile, he sobered and answered her. “They’re aspirin. For your headache.” He watched her take the pills, then continued, “Your pupils are unevenly dilated. I think you gave yourself a small concussion when you hit the sidewalk.”

  Desi closed her eyes once again and tried not to let his nearness cloud her senses. She needed to be doing something, but…

  Opening her eyes, she pushed herself upright on the bed and scooted to the end. She looked around for her shoes, for some reason panicked and needing to get out of the room.

  Grigori watched the panic fill her face and tried to calm her down. “Desi. It’s okay.”

  She looked at him over her shoulder and shook her head. “You don’t understand. I have to go.”