Weather the Storm (Security Specialists International #3) (21 page)

After working his way through the infernal voice mail box and after the effing beep, he said, “Yeah, that Mall shooting and the deputies that got shot in Virginia? Both deals were ordered by Captain Sydney MacLean. He works for General Higgins in DIA. MacLean is a traitor.” Crocker powered off and ground the phone beneath his heel. “Run fast and hard, MacLean.”

“Bert!” he yelled as he left the room.

“Yo!” His team’s geek looked up from his iPad at the kitchen counter.

“We’re moving out. Start hacking U.S. Customs and all airline flights coming from Europe over the last twenty-four hours. Look for three Russians—Alek, Oleg, and Dima Chernov. They’ll be flying into the D.C. area. Keep an eye out for any flights they book within the States.”

Stevens nodded. “This have something to do with Petriv and the librarian?”

“Yeah, they’re her uncles. Interpol agents. We follow them, we find her.”

Stevens grinned. “I’m on it.”

Crocker slapped Stevens on the back and noted Jones had come up as they’d talked. “I just outed our former boss, Syd-fucking-asshole-MacLean, to Homeland.”

Jones mumbled, “Bet that frosts the FBI’s ass.” Crocker and Stevens laughed.

Crocker scanned the two men. Neither of them were idiots like Dillman, thank God. “Remember Joe Peters?”

Both men nodded and smiled.

“Joe’s gotten us a new gig. Instead of killing the librarian, we’re retrieving her and taking her to a man who wants her. We’ll be paid ten million dollars. Shares are the same as the old job. I’ll transfer a down payment to your accounts as soon as the money’s in mine.”

His men murmured and he heard relief in their voices. Neither had really wanted to kill a woman or deal with SSI, but they would’ve done it. A job was a job.

Stevens asked, “Who’s our new employer?”

“Sergei Demidas.” Crocker watched each man’s face. He found recognition and distaste. “If you want out now, take your share of the old job’s down payment and leave. No hard feelings.”

Crocker’s lips twisted into a sly smile. “But if you want to help Joe’s team and me take the Russian down, then you’ll share in the monies we’ll liberate from the bastard’s South American accounts.”

After several seconds of silence, Stevens said, “I’m in.”

Jones nodded. “Me, too.”

Crocker nodded. “Then let’s move out. We’ll drive west until Stevens does his thing and gets us specific directions. Petriv and the lady have almost a day on us.”

Sunday, December 4th, 5:30 P.M. (EST), Somewhere in Southern Pennsylvania

“Vanko?” Elana murmured.

He turned his head. His lips turned up in a weary smile. “What is it,
dushka
?”

His gray-green eyes were dull and the lines on his face seemed deeper, more pronounced. He had to be running on fumes. Their stay at a Hampton Inn near the Ronald Reagan National Airport had been brief, only until the early afternoon when they’d hit the road in another Hummer a rental agency had delivered.

Because of super-primo drugs and exhaustion, she’d managed to rest during the short stay, but Vanko hadn’t slept at all. Through her drowsy state, she’d been peripherally aware of him sitting next to her on the bed. His warmth and closeness had soothed her; his protectiveness had made her feel safe and cared for. As he guarded her, he’d used her laptop and made calls on the burner phones. His low voice had been ever-present, like a lulling white noise in the background of her semi-conscious state.

Since their departure from the airport hotel, Vanko had driven in blowing snow, almost blizzard conditions, through the Allegheny Mountains. He’d driven as fast as he could, but several times had to pull off the road and wait out the blinding wall of snow. When he was able to continue, the winds jabbed at the Hummer like a prizefighter hoping for a knockout. What normally would have been a four-and-a-half hour drive from D.C. to this part of Pennsylvania had turned into almost a six-plus hours’ drive.

During the worst of the storm, she’d tensed a few times, but Vanko’s demeanor never changed. He was as steady as a rock as he manhandled the heavy vehicle and fought back against Mother Nature. Only the taut muscles in his neck, hands, and forearms showed her what an effort he made to keep them safe by putting as much distance between them and D.C. as he could.

“
Dushka
, what is it?”

His neutral facial expression changed as he looked at her. If she had to describe his mood, she’d call it affectionate. His voice was pitched low and gentle. And the endearment he used sounded real—from the heart—and not in the way most men casually peppered endearments in their conversation. Her heart raced each time he used one.

“You’re frowning.” He let go of the wheel to sweep a thumb over her cheek. “Are you in pain?”

“I’m stiff…and a little uncomfortable.”

At a late lunch stop, he’d made her take more pain meds from the miraculous, and seemingly bottomless, field medical kit. As a result, her pain was more of a dull throb—okay, she’d admit it, but only to herself—and an occasional sharp pain when she turned the wrong way.

“I spotted a sign for an outlet mall ahead…near Washington, Pennsylvania.” She deliberately changed the subject, wanting to distract him from pressing her on her pain levels. “The weather’s bad and not getting better.”

To underline her point, a heavy wind gust tried to shove the vehicle toward the center line. Vanko handled the recalcitrant wind easily.

She exhaled with relief and continued, “And it’ll be dark soon. Could we stop for the night? Take a break…maybe do some shopping?”

Vanko dealt with some sharp S-curves made even more treacherous by ice and snow before addressing her questions. “Shopping?” He threw her a quick glance, a grin on his lips. “Women and their shopping.”

Even though she was aware he was teasing her, she explained her reasoning anyway. “I need more practical clothing.” She shivered in the wool cardigan, her only outer wear. Even with the vehicle’s heater, her feet felt like chunks of ice in the thin, supple Italian leather half-boots meant for a temperate autumn day and not a freezing, snowy December.

Vanko’s smile and playful eyes turned serious in a split second. “Yes, we can stop. But are you well enough to shop?” His visual scan pierced her. “You’re in pain. This isn’t acceptable. I will take your sizes and—”

She cut him off by placing her hand on his right thigh and squeezing the solid muscle under her fingers. His nostrils flared, and she noted desire in his eyes before he blinked.

Oh my.

A pleasurable ache between her thighs pulsed in response. She swallowed past a sudden tightness in her throat. “Um…uh…I couldn’t walk a whole outdoor mall. But I could handle one store. There was a Gap Outlet advertised. We both should be able to get enough clothes to last us until our final destination.” She looked over the seat back to his duffle on the floor behind the driver’s seat. “Your bag doesn’t look like it could hold much winter weather gear.”

“It doesn’t. We’ll stop.” Vanko yawned, a sign of his exhaustion. “We both could use a good night’s sleep.”

He crooked a finger. “Come closer. Look me in the eye and tell me what really put the frown on your lips and the faraway look in your eyes. It wasn’t our lack of winter clothing.”

Elana turned and leaned toward him. The movement pulled her wound, but it was bearable. Even if it had hurt more, she couldn’t resist getting closer to him. His scent calmed her. “Tired. Worried about the future.”

Vanko’s long-lashed eyes narrowed with concern. “I’ll accept those reasons. But you’re in pain and are trying to hide it from me. Don’t do that. I wish to take care of you,
zaychik
, and I can’t do so properly if you aren’t open with me.”

“I don’t want to be more of a burden…”

“Hush. You are not a burden.” He stroked a finger along her jaw where the muscles were taut. “But I think that isn’t all that’s on your mind,
angel moy
. Once you realize you can trust me with anything…you’ll tell me what’s really bothering you, yes?”

I care for you. So much so, I don’t want you to leave me after all this is over. How needy is that?

Elana slowly pulled away from his light and very disturbing touch. “I trust you…never, ever doubt that. It’s…me…” she trailed off. She had to shut her mouth or all her deeper feelings for this wonderful man would come out. She leaned back in her seat. “…um, I’m not sure what I’m feeling.”

Liar. You love him.
Her little voice chided.

He’s not ready to hear that.

He’s attracted to you. You aren’t scared of him. You can build on that. Be a whole woman for once.

That’s sex. It doesn’t mean happy-ever-after.
God, now she was arguing with the little voice in her head. She must be more tired than she’d thought or the drugs had driven her slightly batty.

Vanko, both hands on the wheel again, shot her another quick glance. “I’m pleased you trust me. Once I’m sure you’re safe, I’d like to get to know you better. Maybe—”

At his words, Elana burst into tears.

“Elana,
dushka
! What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. Words that couldn’t be unsaid stuck in her throat and fought to get out. It was too soon. If she told him of her love, of wanting a happy-ever-after, she’d scare him away. So she bit her lip and forced the words back into her heart.

He’d like to get to know her better wasn’t a declaration of undying love. But she wanted it to be.

Yeah, she was needy, pathetic and selfish, selfish, selfish to think a strong, handsome, and wholly sane man like Vanko would want the mess that was her. She sobbed and covered her mouth with a hand as she tried to stop crying.

“Elana, talk to me.”

Talk to the man, already.

She was afraid.

So, get unafraid.

Swearing under his breath, Vanko looked in all the mirrors, slowed the large vehicle, and pulled off onto the slush-and ice-covered berm. Once the Hummer was in Park, he released his seat belt and leaned over the center console. He pulled her hand away from her mouth and kissed the palm, with his other hand he turned her to face him. “
Angel moy
…what’s wrong? Am I assuming too much? Moving too fast?” He kissed the knuckles on the hand he held.

Not for me, he isn’t.

God, she loved this man. He deserved so much better than her.

Plu-u-eeze. There’s nothing wrong with you…us. Talk to him.

“No…I want…want y-y-you…want a chance at…an u-u-us. I kn-know it’s crazy…it’s too…too soon.” Elana sniffed. Despite her earlier resolve, she’d gone ahead and opened the lid to the Pandora’s Box of emotions inside her, opened herself up to a potential world of hurt when he realized just how damaged she was. It was a long way from Vanko’s light kisses and touches to handling sexual intimacy with a strong dominant male.

“You want me also? Good.” Vanko’s eyes glittered. He kissed her lips lightly and then whispered against them, “So, once we’ve eliminated all danger to you, you will be in my life.”

It wasn’t a question, but an order. It also wasn’t a declaration of love, but it was more than she deserved—and God help her, she was going to grab the opportunity and hold on for as long as she could.

About damn time.

Elana nodded since she couldn’t stop crying. It was as if the years of being alone were washed away with Vanko’s words. She had the promise of a future with him, however long it might last.

“Good, that’s good,” he whispered over her lips. “I’ve never felt this way about any other woman.”

That couldn’t be right. Elana frowned and pulled away so she could see his expression. “You must have had other women, um, lovers, you’ve cared for.”

“I’ve had many over the years. I’m almost thirty-five, after all.” Vanko let go of her hand and combed his fingers through her hair and then cupped the back of her head to pull her closer to his mouth once more. “But I’ve never…ever…wanted a woman as much as I want you. You,
angel moy
, I want as a permanent part of my life…forever.”

Forever? He loved her…he hadn’t used the word, but he had said forever.

Yay! Told you.

More tears flowed down her face. Her soul, her heart, felt lighter. Maybe, with him, she could open up and share all of herself. Then…maybe not, but she was damn going to try…for him. “I’m afraid I’ll disappoint—”

“Shh.” Vanko brushed his lips over hers. “None of that kind of talk.” He gently nipped her lower lip with his teeth before licking the slight sting. “We’ll go at
your
pace, Elana
moy
. I’m a very patient man when I want something.” He then took her mouth with a deeper, more sensual kiss, his tongue caressing hers until she responded.

Lost in the sensual wonder of his lips and needing to get closer, she leaned further over the console and reached for his neck. She couldn’t hold back the gasp of pain when she pulled on her wound.

At her sharp inhale, Vanko released her mouth and settled her back into her seat. “Elana,
dushka
, are you all right?” Concern in his eyes, he examined her face, then checked the area over her wound. “Good. No blood,” he said on a harsh exhale.

He stroked her shoulders and kneaded her tense muscles. “Damn me for an idiot.” He grimaced. “I meant to be so careful with you.”

“Now you shush.” She inhaled and shoved the pain away. “The pain is nothing. I wanted that kiss just as much as you.” Probably more so. “And I want other kisses from you. I want it all…with you…only you.”

Elana stroked his thigh which flexed under her touch and then boldly covered the noticeable bulge in his jeans. His erection was hard, large, and pulsing against her palm. Her sex ached and her clit throbbed as she imagined all his hot strength plunging into her depths…over and over…and over again.

He groaned and covered the hand she’d placed on his erection. “Never doubt I want you…all of you. But you were shot yesterday and are still a bit afraid of me, I think.”