Page 48 of Savage Warrior

“Right. The Manotov brothers. We know their uncle. Or we did.”

“Remind me.”

“Old Eric Manotov used to operate out of Glasgow before he was stupid enough to cross us.”

It all floods back. Manotov actually had the balls to kidnap Cristina, Ethan’s now-wife. My boss declared war, and we took out his entire operation in one go, killing Manotov in the process. “With the Manotov Bratva in tatters, are you thinking the boys decided to try their luck with the Sokolovs?”

“Why not? Makes sense. I don’t suppose they were brought up to live a nice quiet life running a market stall in downtown Vladivostok.”

“Another coincidence?”

Jack takes a while to answer. “Not sure. How could they have known that one of our men would meet up with their escaped prisoner? I do think it’s just the girl they’re after. They may not even know about you.”

I digest that and can’t find a reason to disagree. Yet.

“So, what are your plans, once the weather clears?” Jack asks.

“We’ll head south, back to Glasgow. I can protect Arina at Caembro Ghyll while I sort out a safe route home for her.”

“Fair enough. Let me know when you’re on your way again. And keep in touch.”

I end the call. The sound of running water tells me Arina is still in the shower. I decide to chance my luck.

The bathroom is full of steam when I enter. Arina can be seen, a shimmering silhouette behind the glass screen. She tips up her face to catch the full force of the spray and rakes her hair back with long, slender fingers. I watch for a few moments, drinking in the sight of her.

She was always beautiful. I thought that the first moment I saw her asleep in what should have been my bed. She has one of those bodies that becomes lovelier the more I look at it. Her old bruises have faded, she no longer needs the strapping around her ribs, but the marks I left on her creamy flesh are still vivid.

It had been a while since I last had occasion to discipline a woman. I’m glad I haven’t lost it. I didn’t relish hurting Arina. I never do unless I’ve been asked very nicely. But neither do I regret what happened. I see the incident as a watershed in our relationship, and now is the moment to discover that remains.

I lose my clothes fast.

She whirls on the balls of her feet when I slide the glass door open and step in beside her.

“Oh!” She grabs my shoulder for balance. “I didn’t realise… I won’t be long.”

“No? I think you might be.” I turn her back around so she is facing the tiled wall and reach over her shoulder for the soap.

“What are you doing? Oh…”

I smooth lather across her shoulder blades, using my palms to massage her taut flesh.

“You… you shouldn’t be doing that,” she mutters.

“Do you want me to stop?” Not that I have any intention, but it helps to know the score, to know what I’m up against.

“I just… I don’t think…” Her words die away under a soft sigh. “It does feel good, though.”

I work my thumbs into the knots in her muscles and feel the tension gradually ebb from her. She drops her head forward to rest on the cool porcelain and goes silent but for the occasional appreciative moan.

So, we’re still friends, then.

I work my way down, past contoured ribs where I gentle my touch in deference to her recent experiences, then to her waist. My fingers find their way round to the planes of her abdomen, her slightly rounded stomach. I continue to explore, to work my magic, attuned to every contented groan and murmur, guided by her own cues as I feel my way.

Her feet edge apart with no help from me. Her palms are flat against the wall of the shower cubicle, her streaming wet hair concealing her face from me. But I know she’s smiling. I can feel it.

I slide my right hand down to her mound, then further. I find her clit and pinch it until she flinches. Then, I rub the pain away. She’s thrusting into my hand when I squeeze her again.

“Bad girl,” I whisper. “You need to keep still.”

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