Page 71 of Trapping His Assassin

“Morning, wife,” he rumbled against my hair.

I hadn’t wrapped it the night before, so my curls were matted against my skull. I could feel it sticking like a flat top. Showering would be the first thing I took care of.

As I was about to get out of bed, the door was flung open. Benedikt appeared in the doorway, with a wild expression on his face.

“Get out of bed! Hurry!” He raced down the hallway and I heard the door slam, rattling the small cabin. Then Benedikt yelled for Roman’s men to get armed.

“What the fuck?” Roman rolled out of bed, grabbed his slacks, and threw them on.

He grabbed a gun, and checked the chamber to make sure it was loaded, before tossing it to me. Surprised, I caught it, not flinching under the weight.

“You don’t think I’d shoot you, husband?” I purred, holding the gun up between us, and aimed at him.

Lust shone in Roman’s eyes. “Oh, I have no doubt you’d put a bullet in me, wife.” He grinned, running a hand along the side of his throat near his clavicle, where I shot him the first time.

I raced to my duffle bag and threw on my black pants and shirt. I was smart enough to bring my shoulder harness, so I threw it on in case. I may run out of bullets, but I could pick up someone else’s gun and defend myself if I needed to.

Who could have anticipated what we were walking into, especially with Benedikt breaking into the room like that? Roman and I left the bedroom together, and slowly made our way to the deck of the ship. We cleared the rooms ahead of us slowly.

On the deck, Mateo was ahead, barking orders at his men. They were laying lights on the helicopter deck. Confused, I searched the skies, and in the distance, a dot headed toward us.

It was too far away to see if it was a plane or a helicopter or what. Roman grabbed my hand that didn’t hold the gun, and led me over to the rest of the men where Benedikt stood.

“A helicopter is landing here,” Benedikt told us, as soon as we approached.

“Why?” Mateo hadn’t told me that there was a flight planning on landing while we sailed the sea.

“The more important question is who wants to land here?” Roman pointed out.

“We have no idea. They wouldn’t give us an answer.” Benedikt pulled a suitcase from out of nowhere. It was actually on the ground by his feet; I simply hadn’t seen it, because I was too distracted by the helicopter.

It didn’t take long to start seeing the outline of the helicopter, as it made its way toward us. We were all on high alert. As the helicopter descended towards the ocean, the soldiers scrambled to get into position, hands gripping rifles and grenades.

One soldier, a sniper, peered through his high-powered binoculars, scanning the area for any signs of danger. He passed them down to his comrade, who also scanned the pilot’s features but found no recognition in his face.

“He’s right.” The battle buddy checked as well. “I can’t see anything, either. A pilot I’ve never seen before.”

As the flight approached, Roman whispered to himself. “Is this a friend or foe?”

We held our breaths collectively it seemed. The wind blew, and I remembered my hair was stuck up flat in the back. I never got that shower. I shot a glare at Roman, but he sent me an adorable grin.

Why couldn’t he be ugly? My husband was incredibly attractive, and he was well aware of it.

The helicopter landed successfully. Our eyes were glued to the sky as it descended. The powerful gusts of wind whipped our hair and clothes around, and the deafening roar of the blades made it impossible to hear each other speak, even though we were standing shoulder to shoulder.

The door opened and out climbed a familiar man. Alexie Petrov. I’d memorized everyone in my dossier on the Petrov family. As soon as Alexie was out of the helicopter, he spun around and held a hand out.

A slender hand reached out to clasp his, and I almost gasped at the woman climbing slowly out of the helicopter. Sloane Williams, who was now Mrs. Alexie Petrov, stood next to her husband once he helped her out of the chopper.

“What the fuck are they doing here?” Roman yelled over the blades.

Surprised his voice could reach that loud, I hollered back. “You’re not happy to see your father?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s not that.” Roman started walking toward the couple, so I followed.

“Then what is it?” I asked right before we reached them.

“Where Alexie goes, trouble follows,” Roman yelled over the blades.

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