Hitman's Captive: A Bad Boy Romance (3 page)

Fuck.

I needed somewhere safe
to regroup and work out what the hell was going on with Viktor’s murder. Then
I’d try and clear everything up.

And if not…you’d been
planning on leaving NYC anyway.

We moved up to the wide,
elegant doors of the hotel and I nodded at the doorman with a smile as he
opened them for us - making my life a lot easier as I continued holding onto
her while we stepped out onto the sidewalk.

By the time we’d made it
a few paces down the road, several taxis had already passed and my chest
started to ease as I worked out what I needed to do. When we were a little way
away from the hotel, I flagged a taxi, ignoring the furtive glances the woman
kept giving me.

I was just glad I’d
convinced her well enough to be quiet and acquiescing. She got into the taxi at
my gesture and I pressed close to her again as I directed the driver to Central
Park, near the Metropolitan Museum, trying to ignore her obvious repulsion at
my constant close presence.

I’d go through with the
evasion I’d already planned, and then hole up in the safe house I’d prepped
months before. I hadn’t needed it yet, but the rent and arrangement were worth
it to keep it available for exactly this kind of situation.

Or, this situation sans
woman.

She didn’t say anything
on the stop-and-start drive in New York’s unforgiving traffic, and instead we
sat there in a tense silence. That expectant quiet continued as we left the
taxi, then headed down the street and hailed another - this time to Broadway. I
could feel her nerves and tension increasing with every move we made, and I was
pretty sure it was only the gun that I still held which kept her compliant.

Unlike any job I’d ever
done, this was starting to get to me. The last thing I wanted was to kidnap
someone. I
knew
I didn’t have a clue how to do that - and even more, I
didn’t like how it was making me feel.

I’d lived alone my whole
life, and having her here attached to me like this was probably unnerving me
just as much as it was her.

Okay, maybe not quite as
much.

We left the taxi on
Broadway, and I kept a tight grip on her among the crowds just starting to come
out of the theater.

Perfectly timed, as
always.

They were leaving the
performance that I’d supposedly been at all evening - the tickets were bought,
I’d used my credit card to buy the requisite food and keepsakes, and I’d been
caught on camera there. And now I’d made it back in time to head out at the
same time as the rest of the audience.

That would have given me
some satisfaction if the crowds didn’t feel far more dangerous with her here. I
walked quickly and tried to avoid most of the hordes of people - not easy on a
Friday night - keeping the woman tucked into me. She could no doubt sense my tension
as I hurried her along, and I felt her eyes on my face more than a few times.

After a few tense
moments, I turned my head to catch those soulful eyes - and almost stopped as
the intensity of our gazes meeting shot through me.

Fucking stop it.

A similar shudder seemed
to go through her, but I forced myself to ignore it and keep my expression
stern and unforgiving. The desperate calculation I’d caught turned quickly to
fear and she bit her lip to keep from saying something.

“Eyes down.”

She swallowed and, after
a moment’s hesitation, obeyed. My eyes swept over the people around us, but
there were too many rapt conversations about the evening’s performance for us
to attract any attention.

I navigated us through the
swarm of people, managing to keep us far enough away from anyone else that she
couldn’t reach out to anyone. As we finally entered the parking lot, I started
to breathe just a little bit easier.

It only took moments to
locate the dark Mercedes I’d left there hours before, and as we headed in its
direction, I could feel her tension increase. Her steps became smaller, and the
hesitation was obvious. I guessed this was the most terrifying part for her -
leaving the public to be taken away somewhere unknown.

I had a moment’s stab of
sympathy for her, but I couldn’t provide any reassurances. Not that she’d
believe me anyway.

I unlocked the car with a
press of a button, and stepped around to the driver’s side, opening the door.

“Get in.” I gestured at
her, withdrawing the gun I’d held at her waist, but keeping it discreetly
trained on her.

She looked back at me,
wide-eyed, and bit her lip again as the trembling in her limbs increased.

That small gesture had me
overcome with the sudden desire to press her up against the door, take those
full, delicate lips in mine and join our mouths with some of my unexpected
heat.

Fuck. Stop it.

I had to be on top of
everything here - and I couldn’t afford crazy fantasies sneaking up on me like
that.

I shook myself and indicated
the car again, eyes narrowing at her.

She took one last look
around the parking lot, but as she sensed the last of my patience wearing away,
she slipped into the drivers seat, looking back at me with a slight confusion.
I gestured again, indicating the passenger side, and for the first time
irritation crossed her soft features as I watched her clamber over to the other
side.

I had to bite back a
little smile at the indication that she still had enough left in her to be
annoyed by that little inconvenience - it was somehow reassuring to know the
terror I’d caused wasn’t completely overwhelming. At least, not quite.

I slipped in beside her,
keeping the gun resting on my knee and pointed in her direction. She glanced at
it warily, but the shock of having it there had obviously started to wear off.
Instead, as I started the car and slowly maneuvered us out into the traffic,
her eyes roamed over the sights passing outside.

She hadn’t been that
interested in staring outside the taxis, but then I guessed she’d known from my
direction where we’d been going. Now she had no idea, and I could hear her
breathing quicken as that hit her. Her hands were clenched against the seat
despite the relatively slow pace, and I worried for a moment that she was
starting to panic.

She’d held it together
for all of the critical moments so far, and I could hardly blame her now, but
unease gnawed at me as I watched her out of the corner of my eye. I had no idea
what to do with a woman in the midst of a panic attack.

To my relief, a few
minutes later she seemed to have herself back under control, and she looked
over at me.

“Where are you taking
me?” Her voice quavered a little, but there was a strength there that I found
myself respecting.

It didn’t change that I
stayed silent, ignoring the question that had probably taken some guts to ask.

She didn’t seriously
expect me to tell her, did she?

If she was observant
enough - which I thought she might be - she could probably work it out as we drove,
but I didn’t have a way to stop that. When we eventually left the safehouse, I
wouldn’t use it again anyway. And there was nothing about it that could lead
anyone back to me, so I had to be satisfied with that.

“What…what are you going
to do with me?” She tried again, and despite the initial hesitation, her voice
was clearer this time.

Who the hell knows.

I didn’t have an answer
to that question for myself, let alone for her. So I stayed silent and
concentrated on the traffic.

She looked at me expectantly
for a few minutes, fear and uncertainty in her eyes, before eventually
realizing I wasn’t going to answer. Her shoulders slumped and she slouched down
in the seat, bringing her knees up and clasping her hands around them as she
stared out at the passing lights of NYC at night.

“Fine. Ignore me.
Bastard.”

It was muttered, but the
irate tone of voice stirred something else inside me. I fought the way my mouth
tried to lift into a smile, and the desire to gesture with the gun again to
make a point.

But I wasn’t an
intimidation kind of guy, and if she could rail at me a little bit maybe it
would help with some of that fear. She’d been silent and obedient the whole
time, but now that we were alone and she’d obviously realized her silence
wasn’t a life-or-death situation for me anymore, she seemed to be confident
that I wouldn’t do anything if she started to speak.

And she was right.

I glanced at her out of
the corner of my eye, taking in the attractive curl of her hair around that
soft face, and the way that even while she was scrunched up with my jacket over
her, she still looked stunning. My cock reacted instinctively and I tried not
to stiffen obviously.

Fuck.

I was in way over my head
with this. And I couldn’t let
that
get in the way of everything else I
needed to work out.

The rest of the journey
passed in relative silence as I tried to focus on what I needed to accomplish
tonight. Getting us to safety was just the first part - the night was young and
I needed to make the most of every moment to work out what had gone wrong. My
first stop would need to be the source who had given me so much information
about Martin, including exact locations and timings. My second would need to be
my client - if he really existed.

This didn’t seem like a
simple case of mistaken identity and getting the wrong man. The room had been
Martin Feber’s. And everything about it had been too neat and easy - until it
all fell apart.

This had to be
deliberate. A hit on Viktor Kovalski.

And no one casually
arranged for a Kovalski to be killed - especially the
bratva
boss.

I let my mind twist on
that, and just how badly I’d been played, for the remainder of the journey. The
woman next to me didn’t try to say anything more, and as we slipped through traffic
laden streets, it seemed like her constant terror had slipped a little, into
exhaustion. I couldn’t blame her - being this tense and on edge did that to
someone. At least if they weren’t used to it.

By the time we eventually
pulled into the safehouse in Union City and came to a stop, she jerked upwards
in surprise, looking around with wide eyes.

From the dazed and
slightly guilty look on her face, I guessed I might have been lucky enough that
she hadn’t been keeping track of where we’d gone.

I switched off the engine
and pulled out the key, opening my door and giving her a quick glance as I got
out.

“Stay there.”

She scowled but didn’t
move as I went around to the other side and opened the door for her. Giving me
a wary glance, she stood up and looked around at the empty streets and
nondescript, identical houses. It wasn’t a bad area, but she shivered anyway,
hugging herself as she moved away from the car.

Now that we’d made it
here, I didn’t insist on standing pressed up against her, instead gesturing her
up to the front porch and using my greater reach to open the door from behind.

“Go ahead, girl.”

She stepped nervously
inside, but as reluctant as she was to be trapped alone in the house with me,
she seemed more jumpy about having me behind her than the thought of whatever
she’d find inside.

With a couple of grunts I
directed her down the corridor, then left into the main room. She paused just
inside it, looking around at the bare furnishings - sofa, armchair, TV - while
I went straight to one of the cupboards at the side. It should have what I
needed.

Most of the other
equipment, weapons and documents I might want were downstairs in the basement,
but I always kept a large duffel bag full of the most useful items here for
quick access. I unlocked the cupboard with one of the smaller keys on a large
keyring that I almost never used - everything in this place was lockable.

Thank god.

Once I’d pulled out the
bag I was looking for I turned and nodded at her.

Her eyes narrowed on the
duffel bag, and I could see her swallow even from across the room.

“What—”

“Turn around, back out
and to the left.” I interrupted her with the directions before she could say
anything more.

She watched me for a few
quiet moments, as if weighing her chances and options, before biting her lip
again and turning to do as I’d insisted.

If I stopped to think
about it, I would probably feel unbearably awkward about with her around, but
as it was I was focusing purely on getting this done, and my mind was occupied
with a simple list of tasks to complete.

I’d already worked out
the safest place to keep her here, and I wanted that done and her out of my way
so I could focus on more important matters. It had already been too distracting
having those large, dark eyes looking up at me - her questions and thoughts and
fears so obvious that they interfered with my concentration.