Nikolai 2 (Her Russian Protector #6) (48 page)

The technician had readied all of her equipment and waited for Vivian to pull up her shirt and bare her swollen belly. At five months pregnant, her baby bump had grown impossible to conceal. They had announced the pregnancy to friends not long after returning from Europe at a small, intimate dinner at the house. A few days later, Vivian had attended church and then Sunday dinner at Samovar wearing a dress that highlighted her new curves. The congratulations had poured in for two weeks. His office at Samovar and the living room of their home had been overflowing with flowers and gift baskets.

The most ostentatious display had been sent by Lorenzo. Nikolai had taken the message exactly as intended. Lorenzo was letting him know that Vivian and the baby were on his radar. At the first hint that Nikolai supported the coup that threatened to topple him, Lorenzo would strike out at her.

But not if I hit you first.

"This gel tends to get everywhere." The technician tucked a few paper towels into the waistband of his wife's skirt and under the neat folds her shirt. "I try to be as neat as possible, but just in case."

"Thanks." Vivian did that nervous thing where she rolled her lips under her teeth. He dragged his thumb across her mouth in a soothing gesture and coaxed her to stop. He clasped her hand between both of his. There was nothing to be nervous about, but she worried so much about the baby. She flashed him a grateful smile before turning her attention to the ultrasound screen.

After squirting an obscene amount of the gel onto Vivian's stomach, the technician picked up her wand and began to swirl it in slow circles. The image of his baby coming to life on the screen knocked the air out of his lungs.
I made that.

It was the first purely good thing he had ever done in his life. This sweet, innocent baby—
my baby
—had been created in love. A powerful need to protect this precious life he had made with Vivian gripped his stomach.
I'll do anything. Whatever it takes, I'll keep them safe.

His chest felt unnaturally tight. A ball of emotion clogged his throat. Nikolai tried to swallow around it. Vivian turned her hand and gripped his fingers. She turned her head to smile at him. He gazed at her with love and wonder. Everything that was beautiful and good in his life he had because of her.

Not caring about the technician seeing him, Nikolai leaned forward and kissed Vivian's forehead. She caressed his jaw and smiled shyly. After sharing their tender moment, they focused on the screen where their surprisingly active baby waved its arms and kicked its legs. Nikolai couldn't even imagine what that felt like for Vivian.

In the last three weeks, he had been lucky enough to catch the baby kicking and moving more frequently. He liked to keep his hand on Vivian's stomach while she slept. He tried to stay awake as long as possible so he could enjoy those private, touching moments with the baby.

The technician narrated her exam in a way that kept him interested. She estimated the baby's size and measured its head before checking its legs and arms. She spent more time on the baby's heart and stomach to get the right angles and images. Fascinated by the whole process, Nikolai sat quietly holding Vivian's hand.

"Do you want to know the gender?" The technician tapped away at her keyboard. "Some parents do, but some don't. I can finish the last of the exam without telling you."

"We want to know." Vivian looked giddy with excitement at the prospect of finding out whether she carried a boy or girl. She had held off on buying anything for the nursery until she knew the baby's sex. Now she was finally going to get her chance.

"I can tell you without looking again," the technician said. "I got a clear shot when I was measuring his legs."

"His?" Nikolai seized on the word. "We're having a boy?"

The technician smiled at them. "Yes, you are." She moved the wand low on the curve of Vivian's stomach and then pointed at the screen with her free hand. "There you go. That makes it a boy."

A son. I'm having a son.
Flashes of an imagined future appeared before him. A little boy taking his first unsteady steps in the library. A little boy chasing after dragonflies in the garden. A little boy learning to catch a baseball at the park. A little boy sitting on the corner of his desk at Samovar. A little boy with paint-covered fingers smearing color on a canvas.

He glanced at Vivian who grinned. She looked at him with teary eyes and blinked rapidly. "A boy."

"A boy." He kissed her sweetly. "Thank you."

The rest of the appointment was a blur for Nikolai. They left the hospital and made their way to the parking garage where Ten waited. They got into the backseat of the Land Rover. The enforcer twisted in his seat to speak with Vivian. "The baby is okay?"

"Yes," Vivian said with a bright smile. "
He
is doing great."

"He?" Ten's mouth lifted in a grin. "It's a boy? Congratulations, boss."

"Thank you."

"Hey!" Vivian leaned forward and punched Ten's arm. "I'm the one doing all the work. You should be congratulating me."

"Congratulations, Mrs. Boss."

She rolled her eyes. "You've been talking to Sergei again. Now you're even using his nicknames."

Ten laughed and put the SUV in reverse. "It's a good one." When he was out of the parking spot, he asked, "Where to now?"

"Lunch," Vivian said, rubbing her stomach. "I'm starving."

Nikolai decided not to remind her about the snack of almonds and dried apricots she had devoured in the waiting room. He had never seen one tiny woman eat so much food. He would have expected her to gain more weight than she had, but he suspected her mornings runs, though shorter and only three times a week, and the baby yoga she had started doing every afternoon helped her burn most of those extra calories.

Not that he minded a little extra weight on her. The soft, lush curves of her body drove him fucking crazy. Even now, he couldn’t stop thinking about dragging her into his office at Samovar, lifting her onto his desk and sinking down to his knees to feast between her thighs. Then, maybe, he would tug her over to the chair he kept in front of his desk. The one that didn't have any arms on it. It was the perfect height for her to ride him. Her fuller, heavier breasts would be easy to enjoy that way. She loved having them—

"Kolya?" Vivian lightly pinched his leg. "Are you listening?"

"Sorry." He mentally batted away the tantalizing image of Vivian on her knees, licking him clean and humming enthusiastically. "What were you saying?"

"I asked if you had a preference for lunch."

"No." He brushed his knuckles down her arm. "We can go anywhere you would like."

She chose a steakhouse and insisted that Ten join them. He seemed reluctant to intrude, but Nikolai enjoyed his company. Halfway through their meal, his cell phone vibrated. Nikolai glanced at the text message from Kostya.

Bathroom. Now.

Phone in hand, he excused himself from the table. When he reached the restroom, he found Kostya waiting for him. The cleaner locked the door and leaned against it. "I've cleared the stalls. We're good."

"What is it?" Nikolai pocketed his phone. If Kostya had gone to these lengths to meet, it was serious and couldn't wait.

"I had a call from the Liquidator."

Nikolai's insides went cold. Earlier in the summer, he had instructed Kostya to contact the team of brothers known as the Professionals and to take out a protection contract against Vivian's life. Now that Julio was gone, he hadn't expected to ever hear from them again. "What did he say?"

"He said that Lorenzo Guzman sent one of his cartel cronies for a meet-up. They asked about taking out a contract on a woman."

"Which woman?" His heart pounded against his chest now. He could hardly drag a breath into his lungs.

"The cartel guy didn't give a target to the Liquidator. I asked Hector if he had any information. He knew three things." Kostya held up his fingers and ticked off the details. "It's going to happen soon. The cartel is going to use Finn Connolly since no hit man will come close to Houston after the botched attack that nearly killed Besian." Kostya touched a third finger. "And the target is a daughter."

"A daughter? Whose daughter?" His heart fluttered in a wild panic. "Is it Vivian? She's Romero's daughter. That's a hell of a message for Lorenzo to send."

"It's probably Vivian." Kostya didn't even try to lie or soften the blow. "It could be Hector's little girl."

Nikolai's eyes widened. "Hector has a daughter?"

Kostya nodded. "There aren't many people who know about her. He's not married to her mother. From what I can tell, it may have been a one night stand with lifelong consequences. She's not quite two."

"She's a baby! A two-year-old girl?
E
to piz`dets!
"

"
Da
," Kotya solemnly agreed. "This is fucked up beyond belief."

Nikolai turned his back on his friend and walked to the sink. He placed both hands on the porcelain and leaned forward. His mind raced with possibilities. Finally, he made a decision. "Pick up Finn Connolly tonight. Take him to the barn. It's time for him to pay back a debt his little brother owes me."

Kostya unlocked the door and left without another word. Nikolai took a moment to compose himself. This was a piece of information he had to keep to himself. The stress of hearing that there might be a hit contract out on her life would be too much for Vivian. He couldn't risk her health or the baby's.

No, this was a burden he had to bear alone.

Composed and acting as if he hadn't just heard that someone wanted to kill his wife and baby, Nikolai emerged from the restroom and returned to the table. Ten and Vivian were laughing about something as he joined them. She turned toward him and placed her small hand on top of his. He fought the urge to gather her into his arms and run out of the restaurant with her. He thought of a dozen places where he could hide her, places where no one would ever find her again.

Places where she would wither like a flower at the end of its bloom.

"Is everything okay?"

He squeezed her hand and lied through his fucking teeth. "Everything is fine."

* * *

Finn Connolly wasn't nearly as big or tall as Nikolai had expected. He watched the middle Connolly brother cautiously enter the barn where he sometimes conducted business of a sensitive nature. The man had been out of the Marine Corps for years, but those skills that had kept him alive during countless battles had never left him. He scanned the building with a practiced eye, his gaze lingering on possible weapons, exits and threats.

Nikolai didn't want to be rude so he tried to conceal his interest in Finn's smooth movements. The former sniper's leg had been blown off by an IED, but he had only the slightest hint of a limp as he walked. It was clear Finn had put a great deal of effort into his recovery. Kostya had also told him that Finn was an alcoholic. He had been sober for nearly three years. He didn't know the man, but Nikolai found that admirable.

Wanting to keep Finn on edge, Nikolai tossed his lucky lighter between his palms and glared at him. "You're late."

"Blame it on the invitation I never received." Finn's gaze shifted to the table at Nikolai's side. No doubt, the Marine had deduced what was under the blue tarp. Nonetheless, he asked, "What the fuck is that?"

Nikolai ignored the question and exchanged the lighter in his hand for a jar containing the crunched round that had been pulled from the wall the night of the shooting. "Do you know what this is?"

Finn's expression hardened. "It's the bullet I put between the eyes of the cartel bastard who tried to shoot my brother and his girlfriend." He glared at Kostya. "The one your man there promised Jack he would dig out of the wall and toss."

"To be fair," Kostya said, "I said I would take care of it. I didn't say I would destroy it."

Nikolai moved to the table and yanked back the tarp covering the body-shaped lump. Finn's expression turned to one of disgust as he took in the sight of the frozen corpse. Was he wondering why the body hadn't been destroyed or dumped in the ocean? Was he wondering where Kostya kept his freezers?

"The Ghost." Nikolai named the body. "He's not nearly as terrifying as I had expected." The man's ruthless reputation had created an image of someone who resembled Romero, not this slightly paunchy, overly tanned and freckled middle-aged nobody. "His name was Erwin Goode, in case you care. He was forty-four and lived in Mesa, Arizona when he wasn't killing people for the cartel."

"Is there a point to this?"

Nikolai liked Finn already. He was a straight-shooter—in more ways than one.

"Just one more thing." Nikolai motioned for Boychenko to bring him the rifle. Boy held up the weapon in hands clad with black leather gloves.

The effect on Finn was instantaneous. "You broke into my storage locker to steal my rifle?"

Nikolai waved his hand and Boychenko put the rifle back on the worktable. "I needed you to know the score, Finn. You need to understand your position."

"And what position is that?"

"You're going to be contacted by a representative of the Guzman cartel. He's going to offer you a job as a way of repaying your debt for killing their man here." He tugged the tarp back over the corpse and tucked the bullet back into his pocket. "You're going to take that job."