Hitman's Captive: A Bad Boy Romance (2 page)

Chapter Two

Leo

What the hell was Viktor
Kovalski doing in Martin Feber’s hotel room?!

The faint unease that had
warned me something was wrong quickly shifted to full-fledged turmoil. My mind raced,
trying to work out what had gone wrong - and how - as everything I thought I’d
known about the last couple of days was turned on its head.

As I was processing that,
a slight movement made my gaze snap up…bringing me face to face with sudden,
breathtaking beauty.

Despite all my training
and experience - despite everything that had just gone fucking wrong - for one
long moment I was simply stunned as I looked at her.

Large dark eyes stared
back at me from a face framed by thick, lustrous hair. The dark locks curved
and waved as they fell, lightly caressing the top of tempting cleavage and
offering glimpses of delicate sun-kissed skin that momentarily threatened to
undo me. She was wearing a skin-tight dress skimpy enough to reveal more than
it covered, showing off the natural curves of her body in a way that
challenged
you to look.

I’d enjoyed a lot of
pretty women, but no one had ever managed to disarm me like she did in that
brief moment. Then again, I’d never looked up to find a woman staring at me
from over a dead Russian mafia boss, either.

And with that thought, I
was jerked back to reality, the sudden confusion of the situation breaking
through my fog of disbelief at how badly my luck had turned. The beginning of
panic frayed my nerves, and I felt myself perilously out of control - something
I’d
never
allowed before. But I’d never had a hit go so fucking wrong.

The whiskey glass she was
carrying fell as shock and horror flickered over her face - a sudden motion
that finally had my hard-won instincts returning in a flash, just in time to
see her mouth start to open.

I leapt over Viktor’s
body and landed lightly on my feet next to her, spinning her around before she
could blink and clamping a hand over her mouth, my body firm behind hers. One
second later the concealed 9mm I carried beneath my belt was at her temple,
cocked and ready.

My stomach flipped
unpleasantly, rebelling against the action and taking me by surprise.

What the hell?! I
suddenly had a fucking problem with killing someone?!

I’d killed men all my
life, but somehow this woman had me hesitating.

She squirmed in my tight
hold, making little noises muffled by my gloved hand - until I pressed the gun
more firmly against her and she got the hint, subsiding as my heart beat at a
mile-a-minute rate.

I didn’t believe in
chivalry. Any form of
protect the weak and innocent
went against
everything my whole life had taught me. Or at least I’d been
damn sure
that
it did.

But I’d never actually
threatened a woman before. I simply didn’t deal with them in my line of work.
Hell, I’d never even been around one for longer than a fun, forgettable night.
And it seemed to be screwing with my head.

You should kill her. You
know you should. Just do it and get out of here.

Dozens of options flitted
through my mind. She was a witness - she was the only one who could tie this
suddenly
very
dangerous crime to me. I couldn’t let her go. The right
answer was to kill her. It would be a messy, terrible job, but it would solve
the big problem that had just emerged. If it had been a guy walking in on me,
they’d already be dead.

Kill her.

Instead, I found myself
growling into her ear.

“Do you want to get out
of here alive?”

I turned her head so I
could look into those wide, dark eyes as I said it, wanting her to know how
serious I was.

She froze against me
before nodding, that terrified gaze giving me another moment of discomfort
before I forced myself to focus on getting out of here. I simply didn’t have time
for whatever fucked-up unease this was giving me - especially
now I’d
set us on a far more complicated course.

“Then do exactly what I
say. Understand?” I asked, my voice gruffer than usual from the stress.

She nodded again, eyes
never leaving mine. I could feel a slight tremor in her body, and wondered
whether she was strong enough to go through with this. But whatever distress
signs her body was giving, those deep eyes were clear - scared, emotional, but
not panicking. And it wasn’t like I had much choice, not if I wasn’t going to
kill her.

“We’re going to walk out
of here together - as if nothing has happened.” I waited a breath, but with the
way she was fixated on me, there was no doubt she was paying attention. “I’m
going to let you go now. Don’t make a sound.”

Slowly, I lifted my hand
from her mouth - but kept the gun pressed against her head. She seemed to take
a deep breath, but she didn’t say or do anything.

Some small part of me
eased a little at that. At least she’d understood.

I took a quick breath
myself and glanced around the room. With everything that had gone wrong, I
didn’t trust any of my assumptions and plans for how this was going to play
out. I could admit that I didn’t know what the hell was going on here - and
worse, I felt
played
.

But I could deal with
that later. Right now, I just had to get out of here - with the girl.

Good thing you’ve always
been good at improvising.

I gave her a quick once
over, frowning as the skimpy dress she was wearing struck me again. It was the
sort of thing that had been made for private enjoyment, not public display -
and despite far more pressing concerns, the idea of taking her out like that
bothered me.

“Do you have a jacket or
coat?” I asked without thinking.

There was a brief flicker
of confusion on her face before she shook her head
no
.

Running on instinct, I
had mine off before I’d realized I was doing it - and then held it out to her.
“Go ahead, cover up.”

For a moment it looked
like she was going to refuse me, before obviously thinking better of it. She
let it hang from the top of her shoulders instead of slipping her arms inside,
but it seemed secure enough and at least it covered most of the sheer outfit
she had on. I felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed that those gorgeous
curves were covered up, and then let the flare of irritation at my obvious
distraction refocus my attention again.

I gestured her out of the
room ahead of me, watching as she took careful steps forward. It was obvious
she was resisting both the urge to glance over her shoulder at me, and down at
the body behind her.

As I watched her, I noted
the strappy silver heels that shortened her stride a little, which would make
us slower - but also meant a dash to escape was less likely. I could sense the
way her hips would be moving under my jacket and even if I couldn’t see that
gentle, seductive sway, it was hard as hell not to think about it.

Despite the adrenaline
and pounding rhythm of the blood still rushing through my veins from the hit, I
could feel my body becoming interested, and it was all I could do not to curse
out loud. I had to be in control here, and acting like something was going
wrong was certainly not the right way to do it.

Even if everything was
going wrong.

This is why you don’t mix
women and business. It’s fucking confusing.

I stepped up to join her,
glancing briefly around the main suite and feeling relieved that
it
at
least held no surprises for me tonight.

Noticing the way the
jacket flowed against her body, covering her from shoulder to ass, another idea
struck me. I slipped my arm in between it and her skin, curling around her
waist and pulling her close to my body.

I felt the shudder run
through her, but tried to ignore it - just as I tried to ignore how rich and
soft her body felt against mine. Instead, I pressed a small gun to her side.
She started against me, giving a small cry before her hands shot up to cover
her mouth.

My eyes narrowed, but the
way she tried to stop the natural cry reassured me a little. I was sure I could
feel her racing heart against me, and it wasn’t doing anything to keep me calm
and controlled at all.

When it was obvious she’d
gotten herself under control again, I nodded. Tucked up close together like
this, the small gun I pressed to her side was almost impossible to see, and
we’d appear to be any high class couple leaving for the evening.

“We’ll leave the hotel
like this. Just walk next to me - don’t say or do anything. And keep your eyes
down. Understood?”

She hesitated a moment,
then nodded again, glancing up at me once with those big, hurt eyes of hers
before looking down at the floor. That was probably the instruction she was
most likely to slip up on, but there was no way I could let anyone meet that
gaze - her devastating eyes were far too expressive, and terrified, for that.

We started moving
together, and after I gestured her through the door I flicked it to
Do Not
Disturb.
I didn’t know if it would make a difference, but it couldn’t hurt,
and hopefully it would give us enough time to get out of here.

And if no one missed
Viktor Kovalski then I’d have some breathing room until tomorrow - even if the
chances of no one noticing
his
disappearance were vastly different from
Martin Feber’s.

There was no one in the
hallway as we headed towards the elevator, and we made it into one without
issue. The woman next to me was breathing hard from the stress, and I could
feel the tension pouring off her - probably similar to the controlled ferocity
that had my muscles tight and ready. But she didn’t say or do anything, and as
the elevator descended I let myself hope that I might make it out of here after
all.

Then my body noticed just
how close we were in this tight space, and the way her sweet scent curled
around us had me reacting in all sorts of inappropriate ways. The insane urge
to press her against the wall of the elevator and take her mouth in mine surged
up within me, and it was all I could do to push away thoughts of tasting her
full red lips and feeling her go breathless at my touch.

It was completely fucked
up, and I didn’t understand any of it. Self-sabotage of the highest form. I
shouldn’t have even taken her with me, let alone allowed her to distract my
usual laser-sharp focus.

Stress. People react in
unexpected ways to intense stress. That’s why you’re fucking up.

Except that my whole life
had been intense stress - and I was used to the stress from hits. Though
kidnapping a witness…that was something else entirely.

The elevator
dinged
and
the sliding doors combined with the sudden noise of people and activity brought
me back to reality. The woman beside me didn’t seem to have noticed my
distraction - or if she had, she’d kept quiet about it. I squeezed her waist
slightly and started forward out of the elevator, using action to refocus
myself again.

This was the real test,
and my body was immediately on full alert. I kept myself relaxed and casual,
sweeping my eyes around the place almost absently while noting the different
clusters of people. The lobby area wasn’t too busy, and everyone was - as
always - distracted with their own business, but I knew this part was the big
risk.

I could feel the tension
and anxiety radiating off the captive woman beside me, and it was obvious she
wanted nothing more than to scream and yell and make a scene. Her eyes stayed
on the floor, but they darted around as she wracked her mind for some
advantage. My pulse sped up and I nudged her again with the gun, leaning in to
growl against her ear.

“Don’t even think about
it, baby.”

The tension in her body
increased, but after a moment she gave a jerky nod and we continued moving. The
pace was maddeningly slow and sedate, and I could tell she was feeling that far
more than me - I was used to it by now. Acting calm and casual despite intense
inner tension was part of the job.

Pressed up close to her,
I felt it when she started to tremble, and that earlier disquiet stabbed
through me again. I resisted the urge to reassure her - tell her that
everything was going to be okay.

God knew, everything was
not
fucking okay.

As we approached the exit
without incident, my mind started turning to the next part - where the hell I
was going to take us. I’d had a plan in mind, but I needed to re-evaluate fast.
I was no longer safe - whatever had just happened, there was going to be far
more than the relatively incompetent police force after me.

And the Russian
bratva
would have a much better idea of how to find out who had done this.

Not to mention, I
couldn’t go back to my apartment with
her
anyway. In fact, I didn’t have
anywhere that was equipped to hold a hostage. I wasn’t in the damn kidnapping
business.