Page 56 of Hostage of the Russian
“Good. I’ll meet you at the airport.”
“Kostya,” Viktor’s voice held a warning note. “You’re injured. Maybe you should sit this one out.”
“Like hell.”
He ended the call and looked up to find Azriel watching him with worried eyes.
“You have to go, don’t you?” she said.
He wanted to lie. To tell her it could wait. But this was their chance to end the threat—to make sure the rivals couldn’tuse Danny’s information against them again. If they let them get established in Miami, they’d be ten times harder to root out.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I have to go.”
She nodded, though he could see the disappointment in her eyes.
“How long?”
“I don’t know. A few days, maybe a week.”
“Will you be safe?”
He stood up, ignoring the sharp protest from his shoulder, and pulled her against him with his good arm. She melted into him, her face pressing against his chest.
“I’ll be careful,” he promised. “And I’ll come back to you.”
She tilted her head up to look at him.
“You better. I didn’t patch up that shoulder just so you could go get yourself shot again.”
Despite everything, he found himself smiling.
“I love it when you get fierce.”
“I love it when you don’t get shot,” she countered.
This time, when he leaned down to kiss her, nothing interrupted them. Her lips were soft and warm under his, tasting faintly of sleep and something uniquely her. He poured everything he couldn’t say into that kiss—his gratitude for her care, his promise to return, his growing need for her that went far beyond physical desire.
When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard.
“I have to pack,” he said reluctantly.
“I know.”
But neither of them moved, content to stand there holding each other as dawn light filtered through the bathroom window.
Finally, reality intruded, and he forced himself to step back.
“I should go.”
She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as if suddenly cold.
“Be careful, Kostya. Whatever this is about, whatever those people did, it’s not worth your life.”
If only she knew.
If only he could tell her that this was about her. About making sure Danny could never hurt her again. About eliminating the last threat to her safety and happiness.
But he couldn’t burden her with that knowledge. He couldn’t let her feel responsible for the violence that was about to unfold.
