Nikolai 2 (Her Russian Protector #6) (42 page)

I couldn't come again, not after two intense back-to-back orgasms, but I enjoyed every second of our coupling. His fingers gripped my hips with enough force that I was certain there were would be small bruises there by sunrise. He restrained the power behind his thrusts though, always mindful of hurting me or the baby.

"Vee." My name left his lips on a long, drawn out groan.

We collapsed onto the bed. Nikolai rolled onto his side and dragged me back against him like a caveman claiming his mate. He draped his leg over both of mine and engulfed me with a warm embrace. His lips danced along the shell of my ear, and I dozed off to Nikolai telling me how much he loved me.

Sometime later, I woke to the sound of a cell phone ringing. I glanced behind me to find Nikolai fast asleep. He seemed to be sleeping much better since leaving London, and I didn't want to wake him unless it was important. I slipped out of bed and back into the nightgown that had been tossed to the floor a few hours earlier.

Early morning sun filled the suite. It took me a moment to realize the ringing wasn't coming from our two phones plugged into their chargers across the bedroom. I followed the ringtone into the living area and over to my purse. The sound perplexed me until I remembered Ten's emergency package.

The burner phones!

I dug through my purse until I found the pair I had tucked away in a pocket. Only one had been powered up and activated, just in case. I retrieved the ringing, vibrating phone and hurried to answer it. "Hello?"

"Vivian, it's Kostya. I need to speak with Nikolai.
Now
."

The tension in his voice scared me. Kostya had a gift for remaining calm even in the worst situations. If he was this anxious, it wasn't good. "Hang on."

I ran back into the bedroom, put my hand on Nikolai's arm and gave him a shake. "Kolya! Wake up."

Making a low, humming noise, he stretched his arms over head and rolled onto his back. He must have seen the look on my face because he quickly sat up and grabbed my hand. "What's wrong?"

"It's Kostya." I thrust the cell phone at him.

"On a burner phone?" He snatched it away from me. "Kostya?"

I left the bed and ventured onto the terrace to grab my robe. From the snatches of conversation I overheard, I could tell it wasn't good. I headed into the living area and dialed up room service for a breakfast order and then inquired about the flight schedule to Tirana. I was making notes when Nikolai came into the living room while shrugging into a shirt.

He blew out a noisy breath and raked his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry, Vee, but we have to leave."

"What's happened?"

"Besian Beciraj has been shot."

I didn't know what to say. Who would be crazy enough to shoot a mob boss? "Is he alive?"

"Yes. Barely."

"Who shot him?"

Nikolai wiped a hand down his face. "The hit man Julio Jimenez hired to kill Mando Fernandez. It seems there was a tape of the hit. The tape was still on a camera that ended up at Kirkwood's."

"Abby Kirkwood's pawn shop?"

He seemed surprised by my interruption. "You know Abby?"

"I know her through her brother Mattie. He attends the classes at Hadley's arts center where I volunteer a few times a month."

His expression turned grim. "Before the meeting where Besian was nearly killed, the hit man took shots at Abby and her brother at the arts center. Finn Connolly saved Hadley."

"Oh my God." I put a hand to my mouth but dropped it fast. "Eddie Rivera is going to be furious."

"He's going to be trouble," Nikolai agreed. "A man with that much money and the political connections he has? It could get very messy." He laughed harshly. "Messier," he corrected. "Besian is in the hospital. Julio is dead. Lorenzo ran back to his cartel stronghold. The Albanians will want to declare war on the cartel now. Of course, they'll have to get in line behind Romero and Hector Salas."

During the time spent together on our getaway, Nikolai had slowly filled me in the friction between the various underworld parties. If Julio was dead, the cartel's Houston dealers would start jockeying for his old position. Knowing my father, he would find a way to exploit Julio's death to his own advantage.

I glanced at Nikolai with apprehension. "My dad? Was he there?"

"He's alive." Nikolai scratched his fingers through his sandy-colored hair. "I need to get back before the whole fucking city catches fire."

"Of course." Though I was saddened our honeymoon had to be ended so abruptly, I understood the stakes were high. "I've ordered breakfast. There is a flight to Tirana leaving in three hours. I assumed that since you came into Europe through Albania, you would want to go back the same way."

"I'll have to, just to be on the safe side. We'll fly straight to Tirana. You'll go back first class on a commercial flight to Houston. I'll make sure one of Luka's men, someone with clean papers, flies with you. I'll be heading back with Zec. I'll be a few hours longer than you because I'll have to land in Mexico and drive up to Houston. Ten, Danny, Boy and Ilya will be waiting for you at the airport."

I didn't like the idea of being separated but knew it was for the best. "Okay."

A flash of guilt crossed his face. He came toward me and cupped my face. "I'm sorry,
solnyshka
."

I placed my hand atop his. "I'm sorry that we have to leave, but I'm glad that we were able to get away, even if it was just for a little while."

"We'll do it again." He embraced me, hauling me in close and burying his face in the curve of my neck. "It's going to be dangerous in Houston, Vee. The next few months will be difficult, but I need you to trust me."

"I do." I wound my arms around him and kissed his temple. "We'll figure a way through this."

"Together," he said firmly. "We'll do it together."

Clinging to him, I pushed aside the fear that made my knees weak. Even though I wished we could stay here and pretend the real world didn't exist, I accepted that was impossible. We had to go back. It was time for Nikolai to make his stand—and I would be right there beside him, holding his hand the entire way.

Chapter Twenty-Three

"You look like shit." Romero gruffly and rudely greeted when he stepped off of one of Zec's private jets nearly twenty-four hours later.

Nikolai coolly appraised his father-in-law. He had bags under his eyes and an arm in a sling. There were cuts and scrapes on his neck and wrist, probably from flying shards of window glass shattered by bullets. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"It's been a long couple of days." Romero's hard gaze softened fractionally. "Vivian made it home safely."

The tightness in his chest eased some. Vivian and the baby were safe. Now he just had to figure out a way to fix this awful fucking mess so he could put himself in a stronger position to keep it that way.

"That was an interesting choice of escort you arranged for her."

Nikolai shrugged. "Luka insisted. It was the best option."

Although Luka had personally volunteered to see her safely home, the boss had ultimately bowed to the concerns of his top men. He had assigned his cousin and uncle to watch over Vivian. Both were battle-hardened men who could be trusted to get her on the ground and into Ten's custody.

Romero glanced at Zec as he descended the plane's stairs. He nodded in the other man's direction, but Zec paid him little attention.

"I'm leaving," the Albanian announced. "I trust you'll be fine on your own."

"This
güero
is family. That means he's safe with me." Romero's dark eyes locked on with Zec's equally black irises. "I would offer you my protection, but I don't think you're going to need it."

"You might need it from me." Zec turned away from Romero and offered his hand. "Good luck."

Nikolai firmly grasped Zec's hand. "Thank you, and good luck to you, too."

He had a bad feeling about what Zec might get up to if left alone to roam the Mexican countryside, but the Albanian wasn't his problem. If he wanted to get revenge on the cartel for hurting his best friend, so be it. The less of them that were fit for fighting when the time came, the better.

Alone with his father-in-law, Nikolai trailed him to a waiting truck. Despite the setting sun, it was still miserably hot. The ice cold interior felt good, and it perked up his weary bones. He leaned heavily against the seat and reached for his seat belt as Romero slid behind the wheel.

"This is a hell of a family reunion," Romero remarked as he punched the gas. A column of motorcycles and SUVs trailed them off the private airstrip. Six of the bikers revved their bikes and sped by to take the lead. Nikolai caught the sunlight glinting off the steel strapped to their leather clad bodies. They were armed for war.

Irritated by the situation, he snapped, "I fucking told you to give Mando to Julio. I warned you something like this would happen. Besian's been shot. Your VP's daughter was nearly killed."

"Stepdaughter," Romero corrected. "Marley is Spider's old lady's kid."

"I've seen Spider around town with Marley. He doesn't seem to make the distinction between blood and not blood. That's his daughter." Nikolai couldn't believe Romero would even pull that line. "You're just damned lucky that Vivian was in London. Julio's hit man would have gone after her next."

Romero's jaw clenched. "I can't change the past. She's safe and that's all that matters."

"She's safe for now." Nikolai's stomach twisted. "Until this shit with the cartel is put to bed, she'll never be safe."

"There's only one way to put this to bed." Romero glanced away from the windshield to Nikolai's face and then back again. "Are you ready to make that call?"

Before Vivian, he wouldn't have hesitated to say yes. His life seemed to be divided into two distinct halves. The life he had led before crossing paths with her had been so violent and brutal. His soul had been forever blackened by the dark deeds he had performed to help Maksim gain more territory back in Moscow. He had come to Houston fully intent on using the same tactics.

Until the night those violent, brutal tactics had nearly cost one innocent little girl her life.

Lorenzo Guzman was becoming a problem. He sat at the top of a pyramid of drugs and money and greed that required a strong hand. His men had to believe that he had everything under control, but this thing with Julio had proved that he didn’t. He was slipping and the way down would be fast and furious.

Lorenzo had to go, but there had to be someone waiting in the shadows to step up and take control. Hector Salas was young, but he was hungry and fucking brilliant. He had made a miscalculation with Bobby Pham, but Nikolai believed that if the girlfriend hadn't been part of the equation, it would have worked. Bobby would have been the perfect shipping conduit for Hector's newer, leaner vision of the cartel.

But that vision was dead. Hector needed a new plan. Romero had already thrown his weight behind Hector and had promised to back him. With the guns Maksim funneled through Romero and into Central America, Vivian's father was in a prime position to be a huge player.

But they couldn't jump the gun. If they pulled the trigger too soon, Hector's coup would fail—and then what? Who would take control? Would there be a civil war? Would two or three cartels fight for the Guzman slice of the pie?

Lorenzo had to go, but Nikolai had to give that order at the perfect moment. He fucking cringed to think of Vivian's crestfallen expression when she learned he had given an order like the one her father wanted. She believed in him. She believed he could be a better man—but fuck. It was getting harder and harder to walk that line.

"Lorenzo didn't hire that hit man. He didn't send a killer to my city. That was Julio's fault—and yours." He made sure that Romero wouldn't escape any blame in this situation. "You knew that Julio was cracking up after his kid was killed. You knew that Mando had slammed into that little boy and ripped him to pieces with his bike. You covered it up and helped him run so Julio did the only thing he could to get justice for his son."

Nikolai stretched out his legs and sighed. "Now Besian is in the hospital, and Lorenzo is watching his power base crumble." He shook his head. "And you and Hector aren't ready yet. The plan you told me about before I left for London isn't even close to completion. You need more time. If this is going to work, you must be patient."

Romero didn’t say anything. He clutched the wheel even tighter with his tattooed fingers and drove in silence. He waited so long to say anything that Nikolai doubted he would receive a reply at all. "My last stretch was ten long years of waiting. I can be patient for a few more months."

Nikolai figured that was the best he was going to get from Romero.

"It's strange, huh?" Romero asked a long while later as they barreled down a dusty road. "You and me? Working together?"

"Strange isn't quite strong enough." Nikolai frowned at the man seated next to him. "You did try to kill me once."

"And you tried to kill my daughter."

"That was an accident! You were going to take me out on a hit contract."