Prime Target (19 page)

Everly’s eyes open. “Why are you standing there?”

I cut off the remaining lights and take off my clothes. “I’m trying to decide where to sleep.”

My eyes adjust to the darkness just as she scoots over and lifts the covers. “With me.”

I don’t argue. I don’t ask to make sure it’s what she really wants. All I want is sleep and her, and she’s giving me the chance to have both.

I climb in and lie on my side, fitting her against me. She sighs, her body relaxing against mine in slow degrees until she’s asleep once more.

Stroking the soft skin of her bare arm, I calculate how much time we have left before Ben joins us, and how much time is left on the hit that’s still out on my half-brother’s life. Despite Viktor’s demise, the financier has not withdrawn his or her request.

When I asked Everly to come with me to meet my grandfather, I had also told her of a charity event that we would attend, lest she think I was trying to kidnap or murder her.

I grunt at the irony.

The charity event is to take place in two days in Barcelona, and my half-brother, Sebastian, will be there.

Perhaps I should go to warn him. But would he believe me? The few times I’ve met him—introduced as his cousin—he was a prick. Then again, he was a teenager back then, and they’re all pricks.

Everly snuggles into me, her round ass brushing against my dick, and I start to harden.

Brilliant.

Forcing my brain off, I concentrate on the sound of the train, the noise it makes as it skims the rails, the evenness of Everly’s breathing, and the drip of the water into our sink.

My lids start to droop. I press my nose into her hair and breathe deeply. The scent of my woman calms and inflames me.

Turning slightly, I glance at my mobile and note the time. The train will stop in Paris in a few hours. Time enough for me to sleep and make plans.

Though Ben helped me rescue Everly, I don’t completely trust him. I don’t trust anyone at this point but the woman in my arms.

I
am cleaning
my gun while thinking of the best way to get Everly safely back to America when she wakes up. She pushes her hair out of her face and looks at me. “What time is it?”

“Nearly 10:00 a.m.”

“Are we almost there?”

“Less than an hour. You slept through Paris.”

She frowns. “I would have liked to have seen the Eiffel Tower.”

Inspecting the chamber, I say, “Perhaps when this is over.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs, swings her legs over the mattress and stands up. I try not to stare at the way her breasts strain against the thin material of her shirt as she stretches. I try not to notice that her nipples are hard, or that the panties she’s wearing are barely scraps of lace sewn together.

But she notices me watching, and hurries to dress. “I’m hungry.”

“There is breakfast on the table.” I nod at the bag. “Help yourself.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”

She stops going through the bag to look at me. “Not just for this, but for saving me. Thank you.”

Uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation, I try to change the subject. “Ben will meet us for lunch at the hotel café.”

Walking to me, she squats in front of me. “I mean it, Roman. Thank you.”

Setting the now-clean gun beside me, I look her in the eye. “It is hard to be thanked for something that is my fault.”

A tender smile covers her face. She touches my cheek. “You could have left me.”

“I
should
have left you in Raleigh. The very first day I met you, I should have packed my things and left.”

“But you didn’t leave me then, and you still haven’t left me.”

“Because I’m the selfish fuck who got you caught up in this in the first place.” I hang my head.

Everly touches my chin, lifting it. “How can I help make it better?”

“When I give the word, I want you to run like hell for the U.S. embassy. Tell them you were kidnapped. That you escaped while I was meeting with a client, and you want to go home.”

Bewilderment shines in her eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“What’s going on right now—it’s too dangerous for you. I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect you at all times. I can’t allow you to get hurt.”

“Then teach me how to protect myself,” she says, surprisingly undeterred by my reasons.

“I don’t have time.”

She kisses my lips. “I’m not asking for you to train me to be an assassin. I’m asking for the basics, like how to load and how to fire a gun. I know we don’t have time for major self-defense lessons, but I’m a country girl from Asheville and I can scream like a banshee if it comes down to it.”

I stare at her for a moment. “You make me proud. Any other person in a situation like this, who has endured what you have…they would be in the fetal position on the floor.”

“A country girl can survive,” is all she says, before returning to her meal. “Does it help that I can load and shoot a rifle? When I was in high school, I won first place in cross-country shooting sports. Hitting five targets dead center while running through the woods.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Immensely. But then, why did you need to take self-defense classes with me?”

“Because I thought you needed it.” She pops a grape into her mouth. “There’s a big difference between sport-shooting a rifle at a target, and aiming a Glock at someone.”

Her concern for me, like always, is nearly overwhelming. At one point, while we were in Prague, I might have had her love. I guess now, I can settle for her help.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why the change in attitude?”

Everly levels me with a look. “Either I can continue to be the helpless victim, or I can learn how to fight back. I choose to fight. I choose to live.”

*

We take a
cab from the train station to Hotel Majestic. It’s situated in the middle of Barcelona. Made of light-colored stone, the seven-story building is bustling with activity when we arrive.

After handing over our passports, we are shown to a luxury suite and left alone.

“You sure do know how to travel,” Everly says, peering out the window.

“Normally, I wouldn’t stay here,” I admit.

She glances back at me. “Why not? It’s beautiful.”

“It’s too high profile. People come here to see and be seen.” Not exactly the darkness I need to take out my latest contract.

“Oh.” She walks around the room, taking in everything as her hands roam over the bedcovers. “What time are we meeting Benjamin?”

“At noon, but we need to be seated before then.” I exhale. “I still don’t know if I can trust him or not.”

Her brow arches. “So you need the home court advantage.”

Now
that
phrase I know. While living in Raleigh, I became obsessed with their March Madness and support of college basketball teams. Although, my favorite was not mentioned often—the one with the Pirate mascot.

I grin. “Exactly.”

“And you want to sit with your back against the wall.” She walks to me and pushes me down in a high-back chair, then straddles my lap. “That way you can see who is coming or going.”

“You are a quick learner, Mrs. Smith,” I tease. She frowns a little, so I lean forward to whisper in her ear, “Remember, we are honeymooners in love.”

Her head tilts to one side. “Shouldn’t we be doing more than just pretending we’re honeymooners in love?”

I grab her hips and push up. She moans at the contact and I groan low in my throat. “What did you have in mind?”

Her hands come between us to cup her breasts, teasing me as she pushes them together. “I was thinking of trying out the shower. I always feel so dirty after travelling.”

My hands join hers, my thumbs rubbing over her nipples and making them hard. “What if I make you even dirtier in the shower?”

She lowers her head to mine and sucks on my bottom lip. “Then it’s a good thing we have a lot of soap.”

Letting go of her breasts, I grab her hips and lift her as I stand. She wraps her legs around my waist, helping me carry her to the bathroom. I nibble on her neck and ear, earning a giggle from her.

“Prepare to get very dirty, love.”

B
en is already
seated by the time we arrive at the café.
And
chatting up a waitress. The redhead giggles as he pulls out his phone, probably texting her his number.

I roll my eyes and place my hand on Everly’s lower back. The dress she has on dips low and my palm comes in direct contact with her skin. Skin that only minutes ago, I had the pleasure to kiss, bite, and suck. Wash. We had spent nearly the entire time in the large tub, exploring one another as jets sent streams of water everywhere.

Everly had refused to believe that I could hold my breath under the water long enough to make her come with my tongue, but I changed her mind. Repeatedly.

Ben spots us, that goofy grin never leaving his face as he waves us over. The waitress blows him a kiss and saunters off.

“For someone that might be trying to kill us, he looks pretty happy to see us,” Everly points out as we move to the table.

“He’s not the brightest Romanov,” I say and she snorts. “It took me forever to teach him how to ride a bike properly.”

“You taught him how to ride?”

“And shave. And tie a proper bowtie. Helpless, that one.” I try to make a joke of it, but I know the truth. Ben is like a little brother to me.

“That’s sweet,” Everly says as we reach the table.

Ben stands, greeting Everly first with a kiss on the cheek, and then me with a slap to the shoulder. “What took the two of you so long?”

“—I was hungry.”

“—Nap.”

He gives us a curious look. “You ate while you were sleeping, or you slept while you ate?”

I wave away his question. “We need to talk.”

His shoulders fall. “I know.” He watches as I take out my gun and hold it under the table. “Put it away,
Kolya
. I’ve not betrayed you.”

“That is for me to decide.”

Everly clears her throat and nods to her left, indicating that we are not alone. The server smiles, ready to take our orders. I have no idea what I tell him, because everything inside of me is focused on Ben.

“Vladimir is the one behind the attacks.”

I blink. “He wants me dead?”

Ben nods slowly, as if he knows what his confession is doing to me. Though I’m not sure if I do know. For years, I felt nothing for the man, but now…

“Why?”

Ben takes a sip of his coffee. “Because you are the natural choice to take over. He wants to live in order to seize power…and protect Sebastian. There will be no trade. He lied.”

They will come after you first.
Vladimir had spoken those very words to me. Had I known he meant himself, I would have shot him then and there.

“Who’s Vladimir?” Everly asks, her gaze bouncing between us.

“The most egotistical, selfish man in existence,” Ben replies. “And he’s Grandfather’s firstborn.”

Her brow wrinkles as she looks at me. “Who does your grandfather want to be in charge?”

I know the answer, but I’m afraid by admitting it, that I’ll lose her forever. I’ll never have the pleasure of her company again. Never again be able to hold her hand simply because I feel like doing so. I give myself a mental shake. No matter what I want, she deserves normality. As soon as possible, I have to find a way to get her inside the American embassy.

Ben makes a noise, a cross between a snort and a grunt. “Anyone but Vladimir.”

“Working with family is never easy,” she says.

“That’s one way of putting things.” My cousin grins. “I’m really glad Viktor didn’t kill you.”

I smack the back of his head.

Wincing, he gives me a look. “Well, I am. I like her.”

“It’s okay, Roman,” Everly says, taking my hand and squeezing it. “I’m really glad I’m alive, too.”

Warmth flows through me at her touch. The softness she brings to my life…I will never be able to repay. “What about the house in Berlin?”

“Vladimir hired Gustav to burn it down. Gustav also hired some local skinheads to help out.”

“No wonder they went down so quickly.” Letting go of her hand, I quickly put my gun away. “Professionals wouldn’t have spent their bullets so quickly.”

Everly grabs a roll and begins to tear at it. “How do you know all this, Benjamin?”

“I hacked into Vladimir’s personal email accounts,” he says with no small amount of pride. “No one in the
Bratva
trusts him anymore, and there’s a huge lack of trust among the organization as it is.”

“
Bratva
?”

Looking around, I lean into her. “Mafia. Mob.”

“That’s your family
business
?” she squeaks.

I’m amused by the horrified expression on her face. “Assassin is okay with you, but not crime lord?”

“Yes. Well, no.” She looks at me, and then at Ben, before her gaze returns to me. “But you said you only, ah…bring the bad guys to justice. Does that mean you’re the nice mafia?”

My cousin laughs so hard that his face turns red and it seems as though everyone in the entire café stops eating to look at him. I rub the bridge of my nose. So much for circumspection. But I have to admit it’s my fault for ordering him to meet us here, instead of the privacy of a hotel room.