Page 18 of Frozen Heart

I knew what to do because I’d seen American men do it in movies. I held out my arms and beckoned her in. She collapsed against me; I folded my arms around her and for the second time in a week I was hugging a woman. And after a few seconds, the tears started, big heaving sobs against my chest.

It was nothing like when she’d thrown her arms around me in the back room. That had beenthank youand relief and happiness, and she’d been carefully made up and half naked. This was her clutching at me for support, teary and red-eyed and trusting me to take care of her when she was at her most vulnerable. It made me clutch her so tight that it felt like we were one: each sob hurtmychest. And the pain seeped inward and made something shift and open, deep inside me, something I’dmanaged to keep locked up for years. I’d never had anyone trust me like that.

Behind me, I could hear Yoz grabbing his friend and dragging him to the door. It didn’t matter. This was my city and there was no place they could hide where I wouldn’t find them. However much I wanted to kill them right now, holding her was more important.

I waited while Bronwyn comforted Jen and called her a cab. “Shouldn’t we call the cops?” asked Jen.

Bronwyn looked at me, then turned to her friend. “They’ll never come here again,” she said firmly.

When the cab arrived and they were saying their goodbyes outside, I called Gennadiy. As his phone rang, fear and guilt twisted like snakes in my guts:I nearly didn’t look.I’d been trying so hard to stay in control, to not feel, that I almost drove right past.

Gennadiy finally answered. “Doyle and Yoz,” I said. “They do protection shake-downs on the west side.”

“I know of them.” Gennadiy sounded confused. “They’re strictly small time.”

“Find them. Do whatever you have to, but I want them found by dawn.”

I could hear Gennadiy sitting up, the tone of my voice sending him into attack mode. “It’ll be done. What do you want doing with them?”

I looked at Bronwyn through the glass as she walked back towards the store. “Take them to the warehouse. Break their arms and legs. Then leave them for me. And Gennadiy? Bring pruning shears.”

I ended the call as Bronwyn pushed the door open. “I think she’ll be okay,” she said, looking back over her shoulder at Jen’s cab. “I’ll call her tomorrow.” Then she looked up at me and?—

Something happened.

The rage that had sent me marching in here was dying away. But it had melted the chains that had kept things in check. I looked down into those big green eyes and I was just...overcomeby her. She’d been through hell, and she was still worried about other people. She was honest and good, andI nearly lost her?—

She blinked up at me. “Radimir?”

I took her cheeks in my hands, leaned down and kissed her.

10

BRONWYN

I hadtime for one little mewl of shock as his lips came down on mine. Then the mewl turned to a groan as my brain caught up and heady pink pleasure rolled through me.

He broke the kiss for a second, looked at me and breathed something in Russian, a word so delicate and pretty it sounded like it was made of tinkling, fragile glass. “Krasavitsa.”I didn’t know if it was a nickname or a compliment or both but it made a warm rush of pride flood my body.

Then he was kissing me again. His kiss was warm and surprisingly gentle: it lifted me, comforted me, and his hands on my cheeks anchored me in place and stopped me drifting back to the two men. But there was something else, a trembling undercurrent like the rumble of a massive machine that’s being held at an idle. I couldfeelhow much he wanted me, even if he was only letting one percent of it out, right now. It throbbed down from my lips and raced through my body, turning to raw, liquid heat as it hit my groin.

My lips parted. And everything changed.

His lips spread mine, his tongue tracing them before plunging inside. He twisted our bodies around, the kiss growingand rising. I grabbed for him, my hands climbing his back. I needed handholds because it felt like the bookstore was dissolving around me, leaving me in a hot, dark world where I couldn’t think at all and there was nothing solid except him. His lips pressed and moved, tasting me, while his tongue sought me out. And the instant the tip of my tongue brushed his, I heard him growl, deep in his throat…

He broke the kiss, panting. I opened my eyes, confused. He dropped his hands from my face and grabbed my hands instead, lacing his fingers with mine. He was on the very brink, wrestling for control.

I was still kiss-drunk and I had to swallow and work my lips before I could speak. “You don’t...want to?”

His hands tightened on mine. “I’ve wanted to since the first second I saw you.” His accent carved the words into silky-smooth ice that seared my mind. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “But…” He glanced at the ruined bookstore. The counter where the British guy had tried to?—

He was saying it was okay. He was saying he understood. He was saying he’d wait. “Do you want to stop?” he asked quietly.

I took a deep breath, thinking. What I wanted was to chase the memories away. “Fuck no,” I panted.

His hands squeezed mine and I saw his whole body tense, an animal ready to pounce. His white shirt pulled tight over his pecs, and I saw the shadows of his tattoos.What the fuck did I just do?

Then he tugged me against him and his lips were on mine again. This time, he wasn’t gentle. This time, it was about releasing the pent-up need, kissing me before he burst with it. And I understood because I needed him that much too. I kissed him like he was giving me breath, like I’d die if we disconnected again. He was pressed against me, a wall of warm granite that I crushed my softness to. The brutal energy of him throbbed downinto me with every hard press of his lips, crackling streamers of pleasure arcing down inside me and filling me up. The heat of him soaked into me, washing away the memories until all that existed wasnow.

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