Weather the Storm (Security Specialists International #3) (22 page)

“I trust you. I’m not afraid of you.”
Just afraid of freezing at the wrong moment and disgusting you.

Elana moved her hand from under his and caressed his suddenly very stubborn Slavic jaw line. “So,
sladkie
, you’ll have to figure a way to make love to me without hurting me.” She swept her thumb into his mouth and he nipped the pad gently. “Because I ache for you and that has never happened with any other man…just you.”

Vanko’s eyes blazed green and gold. “I’m glad. But there’ll be no sexual intercourse until I’m sure I won’t cause you pain…or fear.”

“It won’t—”

“
Zaychik moy
, no. We’ll wait. We’ll have many years to make love to one another.”

Vanko’s autocratic stubbornness was etched into every line on his face. Well, they’d just see about that. She’d pit her Russian-Italian passion against his bullheadedness any day and win.

Elana didn’t want to wait to know Vanko’s intimate caress and to touch him in return. There had to be a way. Because her sex was aching in a counter-rhythm to her wound, and both caused her pain. While drugs could help with her wound pain, only Vanko could take away the sensual pain.

She sighed and proposed a compromise. “Will you hold me all night? I’ll rest easier with you near.”

“Nothing and no one will keep me from sharing your bed.” Vanko leaned back into the driver’s seat and put the vehicle into Drive, then pulled onto the highway in a spray of slush, ice, and gravel.

Sunday, December 4th, 6:00 P.M. (EST), Gap Outlet Store, Washington, Pennsylvania

Vanko leaned a hip against the wall outside of the changing booths at the Gap Outlet store. He scanned and mentally profiled each person entering and leaving the dressing room area. It wasn’t that he thought their enemies could’ve found them so quickly, it was just what he did. He was in protector mode and wouldn’t let up until Elana was within a more secure perimeter.

“Vanko? Are you still there?” Elana’s voice drifted through the slats of the fitting room door. Her voice sounded weak and more strained than a half hour ago. The shopping expedition, while necessary to outfit them, was as he’d predicted, proving too much for Elana’s reserves. While she hadn’t issued a single word of complaint, he knew she was hurting—and he felt helpless to ease her pain. It was a feeling he didn’t like at all.

“Yes?” He moved to the door and tried the handle. It was locked. “Let me in,
dushka.”

The door opened a crack. Tired, gray eyes peered out at him. She was far too pale. The sooner they bought the clothing, the sooner he could put her to bed. She needed rest.

“Move,
milaya moya
.” After she stepped back, Vanko entered the small cubicle and shut the door behind him. He looked her up and down. He wanted to howl. She was in pain and hiding it. He leaned closer and whispered next to her ear. “Do you need another pain pill?”

“Yes. But not now…later with food.” She stepped back and turned to face the mirror. “I need you to tell me if my butt looks too big in these jeans.” She looked over her shoulder, a glimmer of mischief twinkled briefly in the cloudy gray of her eyes.

There was that sense of humor he adored. He looked forward to years of teasing and laughing.

“Your sweet ass looks perfect in those jeans.” He swept his hand over her tight round bottom and then leisurely trailed it over the rest of her. Her looks, while not pin-up material, appealed to him on a primal level. This was his mate. “The whole outfit looks good. Are you almost done? You need to rest.”

“Just need to pick out a few more things, and then we can go.” She winced as she turned her face back toward the mirror.

“I say you’re finished.” Vanko rubbed his hands up and down her arms as he delivered the edict to her reflection. “You’re in no condition to try on more clothing. What you have will have to do.”

Elana turned slowly and put her arms around his waist. He watched for signs of pain on her face, but she had herself back under control. His Elana was indomitable.

“Okay. I’ll change back to my other clothes. While I do that, would you take these jeans,” she indicated the ones she wore, “and get me another pair in a darker wash?” She stepped back, unzipped the jeans, and then gingerly shimmied out of them. She inhaled and then bit her lip, but kept going.

Despite the knowledge she was in pain, the unveiling of her long, toned legs was a pleasurable sight. Vanko would have to have been dead not to notice how sexy she looked half-dressed. He wanted to watch her undress every night for the rest of his life.

When she began to bend over to pick up the jeans, he stopped her with a hand to her shoulder. “Don’t strain yourself. You’re moving around too much. I’ll get them.” He retrieved the jeans and put them over his arm. “Anything else I can get you?”

She leaned into him and kissed his chin. “Yeah…that.” She laid her head on his chest and rubbed her cheek over his thermal turtleneck through the opening in his bomber jacket.

His willful cock grew within the confines of his now much tighter jeans. He swallowed his groan of desire. Cupping the back of her head, he stroked her long, silky hair and imagined it brushing over his body as she kissed her way to his cock.

“I also want more of
that
later.” He brushed her hair away from one side of her neck and kissed the pulse threatening to beat its way through her delicate skin.

“Yes-s-s, please,” she breathed her response into the base of his throat and then stepped back.

She kept her eyes lowered as she unbuttoned the denim shirt she wore. Her high Slavic cheek bones were delicately tinged with color as if she were embarrassed or…aroused.

“Would you see if they have this style of shirt in white?” Elana slipped out of the shirt on the left side and then pulled it off her injured side with more care. Vanko noted she wasn’t able to lift her right arm much above waist level.

He made an instantaneous decision. They’d stay for more than one night near the outlet mall. Elana needed to regain her strength and heal. Plus, the extra day would allow the weather system with its strong winds and snow to blow through.

It was only Sunday. They were, at most, a two days’ drive from Vanko’s goal of Chicago. Ren wouldn’t be able to get the SSI jet to them anywhere until late Wednesday at the earliest or Thursday. He and Elana could afford the extra night on the road. By paying cash, they’d remain off the grid.

Vanko took the blouse from Elana and added it to the jeans on his arm. For a single second, he allowed himself to gaze at her body covered only in the black lacy bra and matching panties he’d chosen for her. The bandage over her wound was an abomination, marring her natural beauty, and the wound it covered was the only thing keeping him from taking her against the wall in this semi-public place.

Control, Vanko.

He fought the primal need to claim her and show her she was his. After several slow, long breaths, he’d harnessed his sexual urges. No woman had ever reached his primitive side so strongly. For now, he would keep his baser instincts under control for Elana’s sake. But later, when they were settled in for the night, he’d allow himself the pleasure of removing her clothing and the delicate underwear. All under the guise of helping her avoid further strain on her wound, of course. He might not be able to make love to his woman, but he could touch her in other ways, get her used to him being intimate with her body.

“Vanko?” Elana touched his arm. “Are you okay? You looked as if you were somewhere else for a second.”

Yeah, he’d been away. He’d fast-forwarded to a future when he could examine, touch, kiss, and love every satiny inch of her. He ignored his cock as it twitched and demanded to be released. He manfully avoided adjusting his member.

“Just thinking we should take our time going to Chicago. How about we spend a couple of nights near this mall before hitting the road?”

Elana’s whole face lit up. “That would be great.” Then her smile disappeared and a line of worry etched her brow. “What about the men after us? What about Demidas?”

“We’ll be fine.” Vanko wouldn’t allow it to be any other way. He caressed her face, smoothing the distress from her forehead with his thumbs. He couldn’t stand the strained look on her face; she was meant to smile. It would be his life’s goal to make her happy. “Now, I’m to find jeans and a blouse. What about the sweaters?”

He glanced at two pullovers on a seat and wondered how she’d tried them on since she couldn’t lift her right arm without pulling on the wound.

She followed his line of sight. “Don’t worry. I didn’t try them on. They’re mediums, my usual size. I only needed to try on the jeans to make sure they wouldn’t rub my wound.” She let out a sigh. “I’ll be happier when I can move again.”

“Give it time,
angel moy
.” He took the clothes over his arm and placed them on the bench seat with the sweaters. “Let me help you into your clothes. Then we’ll go together to pick out any other items you require. That way you can lean on me. When you’re tired, the pain is always worse.”

“I expect you’d know that from past experience.” Elana grimaced and wove slightly from side to side.

Vanko grabbed her shoulders until he was sure she wouldn’t fall over. “Yes, I know from past experience. Stand very still. I’ll dress you.” Which wouldn’t be as nearly as much fun as undressing her, but it was a close second.

He picked up the designer jeans she’d worn into the store and bent down. “Hold onto me, Elana
moy
.” She placed her left hand on his shoulder. “Now, lift the right foot.” Her breath hitched as she raised the leg on her wounded side.

Vanko growled under his breath. He was causing her pain.

“Stop growling.” She rubbed his shoulder. “I’m okay, but I’ll want that pain pill. It does seem to even out the sharper pangs.”

“God, you slay me. Such a brave
zaychik
.” He slipped the pants over her foot and cleared the material past her heel. “Now, the left.”

Once he had the jeans over her feet, he pulled them up her long legs, stopping only long enough to place a reverent kiss over her mound through the lace and silk. It was a bold move, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Vanko,” Elana moaned his name and sunk her nails into his shoulder. “Don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing. I’m very serious about my feelings for you.” Vanko stood and kissed the top of her head as he zipped and fastened the jeans. Then he checked her bandage and made sure it was undisturbed by the low-rider waistband. “I’m trying to be good,
milaya moya.
Everything about you does it for me—and God knows, you’re not up to what I’d like to do to your body.”

She inhaled sharply and buried her face in his chest once again. He gathered her gently against his body, one arm around her naked upper back and the other around her sweet bottom. Her body trembled against his as she allowed him to support her. Finally, she angled her head so he could see her face. He inhaled sharply at the desire flashing in her eyes. His angel wanted him, too. He loved the flush of arousal on her cheekbones, it wiped away the pale exhaustion and pain, even if only for a moment.

“Tonight, you’ll sleep in my arms—skin against skin.” He kissed her and then swallowed her low moan, taking her breath as his and returning it.

After several all-too-short seconds, he released her lips.

Elana, her words breathy, murmured, “Sounds wonderful.” She nuzzled his jaw. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“
Lyubushka
, it’s my pleasure.” He kissed a spot right under her ear and noted her shiver. She was so responsive to his every kiss and touch. He reined in the urge to caress her breasts in their sheer lacy covering and take their kissing to another level. Later, there was always later.

Elana moved away from his body, and he reluctantly released his hold on her. She seemed steadier than mere seconds ago. She had an inner strength he admired; neither pain nor her enemies would ever keep this woman down for long.

“Let’s finish our shopping and get something to eat and take it to the hotel,” Elana said. “You have to be tired, too.” She looked him over as if she wanted to memorize him. When her gaze paused briefly just below his belt, she blushed. “Um,” she coughed and her cheeks grew redder, “um, did you find more clothing?”

Her voice was strained at the end, and he had to smile. He slid a finger over her heated cheek. “Yes, I’m aroused just being near you. But I have control over my sex drive.” He hoped. “It’ll be difficult, but I can wait to make you fully mine until after you’re healed.”

He leaned down and kissed the spot behind her ear. Again she shivered. He smiled.
Yes, a very sensitive spot
. Then he tipped up her chin so he could see into her eyes. “Do you understand,
dushka
? You’re completely safe. I’ll protect you even from myself.”

“Don’t. Protect me from you, that is.” She captured his hand and rubbed her hot cheek against it. “I’m sure we can find a way to be intimate.”

Vanko smiled. “Elana, you need to know this…where your health and safety are concerned, I call the shots…always. We’ll wait until I’m sure you won’t tear your wound open.”

Elana scrunched her nose and opened her mouth, he was sure to argue with him, so he covered her lips with his and kissed her. When she engaged him with her tongue, it took all his resolve to pull away. When he did, she mewled with disappointment. In apology, he brushed several light kisses over her forehead, cheeks, and on the tip of her very aristocratic nose. “Now, behave, Elana
moy
. I’m hanging onto my control by a frayed thread.”

“We’ll discuss this control of yours later—in bed.”

He chuckled at her words which were delivered in a tone a princess might use to address a peasant. She’d soon find he was the one in control in all things concerning their relationship, not just her health and safety.

Elana pressed a final, biting kiss over his chin and stepped back. “Do we need to shop for you as well as finish my shopping?”