Red Alpha: A BWWM Russian Alpha Billionaire Romance (19 page)

But, perhaps, if she played her cards right, Osip would give her the pleasure.

And
oh
would it be a pleasure.

**

Thankfully The Czech Republic was warmer than Russia. At least, that’s what Cadence told herself. As she didn’t speak Czech, she had to let Demyan lead her around the city.

It was a slight matter of inconvenience that their train to Berlin had been cancelled, thus delaying their arrival in the UK by two days, but Cresseda, when contacted, simply told her to keep her ass moving in whatever way she could.

Cadence was doing her best to fight her exhaustion. They’d been travelling for three days straight. She was tired of trains, cars and any other form of transportation, but forced herself to endure in stolid silence. After all, she wasn’t going to let Demyan see how weary she was. She was supposed to be the man’s salvation…or something like that.

Ever since the man told her his story on the train to Minsk, they’d all but tip-toed around one another; at least, Cadence tried to be careful about what she said to him. It was strange – even though he’d told her that he’d committed a list of crimes several volumes long, she still couldn’t look at him as a criminal.

The man had kept his head down and worked since he was a
child
to stay alive. Horrible things had been done to him and, in turn, he’d done horrible things.

Instead of judging him, Cadence found herself waking at all odd hours of the night to watch him sleep. She never knew what drew her out of sleep, but more often than not, Demyan would be sleeping too – and when he was asleep, the weight of the world fled his shoulders. Even if it was just for a little while.

He was, Cadence was hard-pressed to forget – absolutely gorgeous. A body honed by years of physical training, dark hair that, now, was badly in need of a cut, and a devastatingly attracting growing beard. In her opinion, very few men could carry off beards well – but Demyan was a monolith. His size, build, and the structure of his face ensured that he could probably shave his head and face and still be utterly mouthwatering.

She was sure a fair amount of women must have thrown themselves at him in Russia…and none of them had known the hell he was going through.

The thought made her frown.

Demyan Boykov was, without a doubt, one of the strongest men that she had ever met. In his own way, he was trying to make the world a better place – despite dealing with the devastating loss dealt to him. When Cadence and her sister were young, they were carefree and idealistic. They’d known they wanted to change the world, but they’d never known how.

Demyan had been forced to learn from a very young age – he’d had his childhood all but stolen from him, in much the same way his sister had. She had utterly lost her mind, but somehow, he’d managed to hang onto his sanity.

Unlike the men she worked with back stateside, he hadn’t slung his title around. Rather, he bided his time and went all in on an opportunity that could quite possibly end in his death. Her coworkers liked to boast that they were always on the cusp of death, dodging bullets and exposing illegal smuggling rings…but this was real world trauma.

How, Cadence wondered, had Alessia ever been able to bear it?

The prospect of meeting people like this, assignment after assignment…Demyan in and of itself was enough to break her heart.

“You should rest.” She jumped when he spoke softly in English, his eyes still closed. His breathing was even and deep and she could have sworn the man was asleep.

Apparently not.

Flushing slightly, she lay back down, rolling onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. “I can’t.”

“You’re exhausted,” he rebutted, green eyes sliding open to stare at her. “Just close your eyes.”

“I can’t.” She finally managed. That much was true. They were in a small hotel room in Prague, every door secured. They slept fully clothed in the same big bed with pistols under their pillows and, still, she was restless. “I’ll sleep when this is all over.”

For at least a minute, silence stretched between them. She thought that Demyan had gone back to sleep before he spoke again. “Who is Alessia?”

Cadence stiffened immediately, every muscle in her body tense. She forced herself to take a deep breath. “Where did you hear that name?”

Demyan’s eyes were still very much open, his long form stretched out not a foot from hers. “When we fought in the penthouse. It was the last thing you said before you lost consciousness.”

Fuck
.

Cadence’s eyes slid closed. Was she really going to talk about this? All that time in Russia and she hadn’t been able to find out a thing about her sister. The intelligence had been the real aim, she tried to remind herself, but she couldn’t help feeling like she’d done the deceased woman some type of disservice. She still had no idea how Alessia had died…
who
had killed her.

And now she never would.

“She was my sister.” She finally answered him lowly, turning back onto her side to face him with a solemn expression. “My only sister.”

He made the connection in his mind instantly, his brow knitting together. “I see.”

Cadence swallowed thickly, forcing herself to continue. After all Demyan had told her, it was only right that he knew who she was as well. “She was an agent too. In Russia…but not like me. She wanted to go from the moment she studied abroad when she was in college. You might have thought she was obsessed.” A small smile crossed her lips as she remembered her sister’s unquenchable enthusiasm for her new home. Then, slowly, that smile faded. “She was barely gone for a year before she was killed. In Kiev. I was hoping…if I got sent to Russia that maybe I could look into her death but I…” The young woman paused at Demyan’s stricken expression. “What?” She sat up immediately, reaching under her pillow as she came instantly alert. “Demyan, what is it?”

But he didn’t move, only staring up at her. “
Demyan
?”

Slowly, the man pushed up on his forearms until he was in a sitting position, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He exhaled a long breath. “Five years ago, in Kiev?” He paused. “An American girl…twenty seven years old? Dark-skinned…killed in a car accident, yes?”

Cadence couldn’t breathe.

A car accident. That was what Alessia’s
official
cause of death was. But, of course, no one believed that. Not when her body had been so…

The mere memory was enough to make her squeeze her eyes shut as she struggled against emotions that threatened to consume her. “Please…tell me what you know.”

“I…wasn’t there.” Demyan’s voice seemed to come from far away. “I was in St. Petersburg, on an errand for Osip. He sent Lichakov to Kiev in order to make nice with the Ukrainian government, and while she was there…she claimed to have found a few cells plotting against the Russian government. Osip gave her leave to do what she wished…She interrogated the three she captured and when none of them gave her the information, she wanted, she executed them.”

She was going to throw up. “It wasn’t until after that she realized that one of them was American. Osip was angry at her for being callous enough that he had to concoct a cover story but, of course, he played nice for the camera.”

Lichakov.

Roksana Lichakov
had killed her sister in cold blood.

At the time, she would hardly have been older than Alessia herself…She had looked another young woman in the eye and done God knows what to her…and still, Alessia had told her nothing.

It made her proud…even as Cadence trembled in rage, she’d never been more thankful to call Alessia her sister.

“I’ll kill her.” The words left her on the barest whisper. “
I’ll fucking kill her
.” Before she could stop herself, Cadence had snatched her gun out from under her pillow and risen to her feet. For two long months she had stared into Lichakov’s smug, disgusting face. She had let her insult her, demean her and berate her, all the while knowing the woman was a torturer and a murderer.

But for her to have taken Alessia from her…it was too much for her to bear.

Before she had taken five steps, however, a powerful arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her back against a rock-hard chest.

“
Where are you going
?” Demyan demanded lowly in Russian, his grip on her like steel.

“Let me
go!”
Cadence demanded, her voice an incensed shriek. “
Let me go!
I swear to fucking
God
I’m going to
kill
her!”

“Cadence, calm yourself.” Demyan pried her gun from her fingers to toss onto a nearby table before dragging her back towards the bed. “Your anger will only make you stupid.”

But the young woman could hardly hear him. She was too busy bucking and squirming as she tried to escape his grip. “Fucking
Lichakov!
” She seethed, too enraged to see straight. “Goddamn it!
Goddamn it!
”

“
Shhh
.” Demyan turned her in his arms until her face was pressed against his chest. “
Shhhh,
kukla. Calm.” When he held her so tightly that she couldn’t move, there was no way for Cadence to express her rage. A wrenching, gasping sob escaped her as her entire body shuddered and she finally went limp against Demyan, tears welling in her eyes. She was too
pissed
to be upset, she told herself. She wanted to crush Lichakov’s throat with her bare hands, with Osip Danshov next in line…but she
was
upset.

Her sister had been murdered and the person responsible had been
right
under her nose.

Her arms wound tightly around Demyan’s neck as she shook, sobbing almost desperately. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t goddamn
fair.

Bending, Demyan lifted her into his arms to lay her back in bed, following her down as she continued to cling to him. He held her tightly, stroking her hair softly until she cried herself to into utter exhaustion. If Cadence thought she had been tired before, it was nothing compared to the fatigue she felt in the wake of the grief that escaped her.

She didn’t even realize when she fell asleep – only that the darkness took her and that, blessedly, not a single dream visited her.

When the young woman awoke the next morning, it was to a dry throat and intense grogginess. When she reached for Demyan only to find him absent, she sat up sleepily.

The shower was running.

For a long moment, the young woman leaned back against the headboard, working over the details of the previous night in her mind.

Lichakov had killed her sister…and she would never see the woman again. Not if she could help it. At the very most, she could hope to have her arrested for her crimes, but to have her punished for Alessia’s murder in particular?

She couldn’t hold her breath.

It hurt more than she was willing to address at the current moment.

Taking a deep breath, Cadence did as she’d been taught and swallowed her emotions. She could deal with all this when they were home safe and sound. For now, she needed to keep moving – to put one foot in front of the other.

Christ…when she remembered the way she’d wept the previous night, she reddened. She was supposed to be protecting Boykov. She had to get him to the UK in one piece, and she herself had fallen to hundreds of them in the man’s arms. She was only complicating things for herself.

And yet…Demyan hadn’t pushed her away. He’d held her when she needed comforting. He didn’t
have
to, and yet he did.

Tugging her lower lip between her teeth, Cadence stood to pull her t-shirt up and off over her head. She shed her shorts and underwear on her way to the bathroom, where a pane of frosted glass separated her from Demyan’s wet, nude form.

She took a moment to admire him – tall, strong and powerfully built – still standing after a life determined to shove him into a mold that would steal his sense of self. If she
were
to fall in love with someone – not that her career choice would allow such a thing – but, if she were…it would be a man like Demyan. He let his actions speak for him and was willing to risk everything for what he believed in.

Slowly, she opened the shower door, inhaling sharply at the lean, taut lines of muscle exposed to her. Demyan raised his head, dark, wet hair plastered to his neck and shoulders, his pupils dilating at the sight of her naked body. His body reacted immediately, and Cadence’s nipples perked as warmth zinged to pool low in her belly.

“Thank you,” she finally murmured, “for last night.”

“Cadence,” his tone was low and rough with desire when he responded. “Don’t tempt me with what I can’t have.”

Her throat tightened at the prospect. True, in a few days, they would be separated. He would be taken in for debriefing and she would probably be verbally reamed to within an inch of her life…but for a moment…just a single moment, they could pretend, couldn’t they?

“Then you’d better take me while you can.” She stepped into the shower, closing the door behind her. Water sluiced hotly over her body and Demyan groaned lowly, his arms enfolding her as his mouth lowered to hers.

She would never get enough of him.

As the man’s mouth devoured hers hungrily, she moaned, clinging to him as if her very life depended on it. She whispered his name as he sucked droplets of water from her throat and shoulders, arching against him as a need so acute it was almost pain assaulted her. “Demyan,
please…
I need you.”

His hands fell to her hips to press her even flusher against his water slick body. His erection was scalding against her belly and she reached down to encircle it with her fingers, stroking slowly. The dark-haired man uttered a Russian epithet, his mouth dropping to her chest to take a nipple between his teeth. A low whimper escaped her as he teased the sensitive nub for the briefest of moments before lifting her into his arms.

Demyan didn’t bother shutting the shower off. He merely stepped from it and carried her dripping form the two or three steps across the bathroom to set on the counter. Cadence took his lower lip between her lips to draw on, vowing to remember the way he tasted for as long as she lived. He palmed her breasts firmly before spreading her legs, pulling her to the very edge of the counter.