Page 10 of Capture Me (Capture Me)

Like I fucking assaulted her in a back alley.

Something inside me twisted and hardened. Curving my lips in a sardonic smile, I said, “It’s too late for regrets, beautiful.” Lowering her to her feet, I forced my hands away from her firm, shapely ass. My cock slipped out of her as I stepped back, and the condom, filled with my seed, began to feel loose.

I pulled it off, dropping it on the floor. Her eyes followed the movement, and I saw a flush creep across her face again. She was embarrassed by what happened, I realized, and my anger intensified.

She invited me in, said she wanted me—her body fucking told me she wanted me—and now she was acting like it was all some big mistake.

Like she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

Well, fuck that, I decided, my blood boiling with a mixture of fury and renewed lust. If she thought I’d let her get away with that shit, she was very much mistaken.

And for the rest of the night, I dedicated myself to showing her just how mistaken she was. I licked her pussy and fucked her until she begged me to stop, until her voice was hoarse from screaming my name and my dick was raw from pounding into her tight flesh. I made her come half a dozen times before I allowed myself my second release, and then I had to restrain myself from taking her for the third time when she woke up to use the restroom.

I had to restrain myself because somehow, impossibly, I wanted more.

I still want more.

Son of a bitch.I told Yulia I might return one day, but if this insane hunger doesn’t go away, I’ll have to come back to Moscow sooner than planned—maybe as soon as we’re done in Tajikistan.

Yes, that’s it, I decide as I get up and start getting dressed.

I’ll do my job, and then, if the Russian girl is still on my mind, I’ll come back for her.

6

Yulia

Ipretendto be asleep as Lucas gets dressed and quietly lets himself out of my apartment. When he closes the door behind him, I hear the automatic lock click into place. I’m grateful that he set it. In Moscow, it’s not safe to leave the door open for even a few minutes. Criminals are bold, resourceful, and seemingly omnipresent.

I lie with my eyes closed for another minute to make sure Lucas is not coming back, and then I jump out of bed, ignoring the twinge of soreness between my legs. Automatically, my thoughts turn to the source of that soreness, and I’m once again cognizant of that strange pang of sadness.

Odds are, I’ll never see Lucas Kent again.

Stop it, I scold myself. There’s no reason to dwell on him. We had sex, nothing more. What I need to do now is find out if Obenko had a chance to strike at Esguerra while Kent was out of the way. If so, my gig here will finally be up. My cover is strong, but once the Russians realize there’s been a leak, I’ll fall under suspicion.

I call Obenko while I’m getting dressed. “Anything new?” I ask when he picks up.

“We have a plan,” he says. “We were able to track down Esguerra’s Boeing C-17—it’s the only private plane of that size scheduled to take off in the next couple of hours. Our contact in Uzbekistan will take care of the rest.”

I pause in the middle of zipping up my boots. “What do you mean?”

“The Uzbekistani military will fire a missile when they fly over their airspace,” Obenko says. “Accidentally, of course. The Russians won’t be pleased, but they won’t go to war over one arms dealer. Our contact will get jail time and a demotion, but his family will be well compensated for his trouble.”

“You’re going to shoot down Esguerra’s plane?” A cold knot forms in my throat. I don’t care what happens to Esguerra, but the thought of Lucas dying in a tangle of crushed metal or being blown into bits...

“Yes. It would be too risky to attack him here. He has four dozen mercenaries with him. There’s no way we can get to him otherwise.”

“I see.” I feel cold all over, as though someone walked over my grave. “So they’ll all die.”

“If everything goes according to plan, yes. We’ll eliminate the threat in one shot and without any casualties on our end.”

“Right.” I try to inject a note of appropriate enthusiasm into my voice, but I don’t know if I succeed. All I can think about is Lucas’s big body burned and broken, his pale eyes staring unseeing at the sky. It shouldn’t matter—he’s nothing to me—but I can’t get that gruesome image out of my mind.

“We need to exfiltrate you,” Obenko says, bringing my attention back to him. “If the Russians begin really digging and our Uzbekistani contact decides to talk, it won’t take them long to figure out how the information got to us. It’s unfortunate, but we always knew this was a risk with this specific assignment.”

“All right.” I squeeze my eyes shut and rub the bridge of my nose. “Where do I meet the team?”

“Take the train to Kon’kovo. We’ll have a car ready for you there.” And the phone goes silent in my hand.

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