Page 32 of Taming Mika

“Are you okay?” I murmur, pulling her close as my heart hammers. It feels impossibly good to hold her, to have concrete proof that Mika’s still alive.

“Yeah, I just—what happened? How did you know?—”

She sounds dazed, and I get it. My world isn’t something a person can just wrap their mind around at a glance. Unfortunately, I’ve dragged Mika into the heart of the danger without warning. I have no doubt who’s behind the explosion. Nikolai’s threat was anything but subtle. I just hadn’t anticipated he could move that fast. I thought itwould take him a few hours to come up with a plan, and we could be gone by then.

It strikes me belatedly that he probably came today with the intention of hurting me. He didn’t have a horse in the race—he never gave any indication that he was interested in horses before—but he did know about my new investment. We discussed it during the dinner, where I broke off my engagement. He’s sent plenty of warnings and made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t intend to negotiate. Perhaps he even brought Ana as a last effort to change my mind before he put his plan into action. But then he found a better target after seeing what Mika meant to me.

Movement draws my attention toward the edge of the parking lot, and I spot a black Escalade idling there. The windows are down, and I can just make out the definition of Nikolai’s face from deep within the shadows. A cold sneer curls his lips when our eyes meet, and violent rage rips through my chest.

“You fucking bastard,” I growl.

I’ll kill him for trying to hurt Mika. I’m so furious right now, I could rip him limb from limb. My arm slips from around her waist as I make a beeline for the Russians. Vaguely, I register Mika calling my name, but my blood is boiling, and I charge toward Nikolai with a single-minded intent. My men fall in around me, ready for the confrontation, their hands beneath their suit jackets. If we weren’t in such a public place, I might give the order to open fire. Nikolai comes into sharper focus as I close the distance between us. I catch his smug expression as he watches me, then he turns to say something to the man beside him—Dominik, most likely. Nikolai laughs, and then thepakhan’s face grows serious as he directs a command toward the driver.

I’m feet away when the Escalade starts to roll forward, and I break into a sprint. I draw my gun and debate the rationale behind my decision, but I don’t want him to get away. I want to watch the life drain from his eyes after what he just did—what he tried to take from me. The tires screech across the pavement, and the Kapranovs whip out of the parking lot before speeding away.

I slow to a stop as the dust billows around me. Gritting my teeth, I white-knuckle the grip of my gun as I watch them shrink into the distance.

“Should we go after them?” Vincent asks, stopping beside me.

“No. That’s what he wants. He wouldn’t have stayed so long or made his presence so obvious unless he was trying to bait me.” I glare after the retreating vehicle, my jaw clenching. I’ll have to put a quick end to their vengeful behavior if I want to protect Mika. They’ve marked her as their target, and the longer I let them get away with it, the more likely they’ll try again. Reluctantly, I tuck my gun beneath my suit jacket and turn back toward the barn.

Mika’s at the alley entrance, leading the gray filly back down to her stall. She seems to have regained her balance, though she keeps one hand braced against the young horse’s neck. Releasing a heavy breath, I comb my hair back out of my face. That was far too close for my liking. Striding across the parking lot, I follow Mika back into the barn as Vincent and my men fall in behind me.

As soon as I reach the aisle, I can tell Mika’s not quite right. Her steps are even, but she nearly passes the gray filly’s stall before seeming to notice where she is. The horse backs up willingly and follows her through the right door, but as soon as Mika’s out of my sight, my stomach knots. I quicken my pace, my instinct to protect her taking control.

I reach the stall door in time to watch Mika slip the filly’s halter over her ears and off her face. Her hands are trembling so violently, she almost drops the leather harness. One of the horses down the aisle calls shrilly, and Mika jolts, her head snapping up as her blue-green eyes search for fresh danger. She’s chalk white beneath her golden tan, and I can see the speed of her pulse in the vein that flutters along her throat. Her breathing quickens, growing shallow as she rests her palm over her heart.

“Mika?” I say softly, stepping inside the stall.

“I’m fine,” she says, but her eyes barely meet mine before drifting toward the door, and she looks like she’s lost inside her thoughts. Shetakes a step forward, and now that she’s not bracing against her horse’s neck, she wobbles precariously.

When I reach out to stabilize her, Mika flinches away. Her shoulder hits the metal frame of the stall door, and she grasps it for support. My gut wrenches.Is she scared of me?

She’s clearly in shock—a perfectly normal response from someone who hasn’t been immersed in violence all their life. That doesn’t make it any easier to keep my hands off her.

As Mika steps into the alley, I close the stall door behind us. She stoops, grasping shakily for a bucket that she quickly turns upside down. She collapses onto it as if her knees suddenly gave out. Her breaths turn labored, rushing in and out until she’s hyperventilating. Leaning forward, she braces her elbows against her knees and stares blankly at the floor.

She’s spiraling quickly as the last of the blood drains from her lips. Sagging, she suddenly goes limp like she’s about to pass out.

“Mika!” I call out in alarm, jumping forward.

Deep concern creases my brow as I kneel in the dirt beside her. I don’t want to startle her again by reaching out for her, but she looks so unstable, she could fall if I don’t catch her. She lurches, and I reach out instinctively to grasp her elbow. This time, she doesn’t flinch away.

“Get her some water,” I command Vincent, glancing over my left shoulder, then turn back to Mika. I keep a firm grip on her arm to stabilize her and peer into her eyes.

Her gaze is unfocused as she meets mine without seeing me. She’s trembling hard enough to make her teeth chatter, and her skin is still too white for her usual complexion, but Mika takes a deep breath, and her racing pulse starts to calm.

“I’m fine,” she insists again as I wrap my arm around her waist to keep her upright.

I can’t tell if she’s still on the brink of passing out. I don’t want to take any chances.

“I just—we need to get the horses home,” she insists, her eyes finally finding my face.

“I know,” I say, but first, I need to see for myself that Mika’s okay. Clearly, she’s not in any kind of state to make that call herself. At least she’s not hyperventilating anymore, and though she’s shivering uncontrollably, I think a hint of color is starting to come back to her cheeks.

Vincent returns with a bottle of water, offering it to her. Mika glances up, her lips spreading in a grateful smile, and she takes the water with trembling fingers. She attempts to twist the cap off, but still hasn’t regained her strength. Holding out my hand, I silently offer my assistance, and after a moment’s hesitation, Mika hands the bottle to me. I crack the bottle’s seal and hand it back to her, letting her finish opening it and bring it to her lips.

“We can hire a transporter to get the horses home,” she says after taking a swig. “Joel’s the best there is. It’s short notice, but he shouldn’t be busy since we’re leaving before the races are done.”

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