Russian Hitman's Innocent American (8 page)

Charley crawled out of bed and stretched. His mouth went dry as the sheets fell away and she stood naked in the room. Even though he had explored every inch of her body last night, he wanted nothing more than to do it all over again. She was a drug, and he was addicted to the way she’d cried out and shook in his arms as he gave her more and more pleasure. He was addicted to the way she’d felt wrapped around him.

He was hungry for more.

She must have caught the look in his eyes because she gave him a devilish smile. “For someone who doesn’t want a repeat of last night, you’re doing a piss-poor job of hiding your lust.”

Reluctantly and almost angrily, he turned away. “I’m going to review the documents and try again to get ahold of Kaz. I need to find some place safe to stash you until this is all over.”

“Stash?” she muttered angrily. “I’m not something that just can be shelved, Dmitri.” He didn’t say anything, and she sighed. “Fine. I’m going to take a shower. I hope you’re in a better mood when I get out.”

He kept his back turned until he heard the door close and the shower start. He almost didn’t trust himself not to go in and join her, so he ordered some room service, left her a note to stay in the room, and went down to the lobby. From there, he could safely review his pictures and keep an eye on the entrance to make sure none of Ivan’s men tried to come through.

Ivan would have a hard time tracking him down, but hiding was harder with Charley along. Once Ivan learned that she had disappeared last night, he would suspect that she was with Dmitri. And two were easier to track than one.

His old guardian hadn’t changed much about the home since he’d moved in. Fedor Saiko had impeccable taste, and Veronika had taken virtually nothing with her when she moved out. She’d been so disgusted with everything that she just signed everything over to Ivan like it was nothing. Was she another person he’d duped on his way to the top?

He tried to remind himself that he didn’t have proof of Ivan’s wrongdoings. Until then, he needed to try and keep an open mind. The man had practically raised him.

Raised and molded him into a monster.

He continued to leaf restlessly through the papers. Most of it was transfer information from the companies that Fedor ran. None of it would help him.

Anything truly personal wouldn’t be in this heap of pictures, but Dmitri did have a chance to jimmy into a locked drawer of Ivan’s desk. Inside, he found a bound folder that contained older pages. He’d taken pictures of each page before he realized that his time was up.

He was just about to look at the pictures when he felt like someone was watching him. Looking up, he felt a streak of anger. Charley had left the room and anyone could have grabbed her. But when he looked at her face, his mouth immediately dried.

Her hair was still soaking wet from the shower, and the white tank top she wore was slowly soaking through. If he didn’t get her out of the lobby soon, she was going to give everyone a show.

Hastily, he tucked his phone away and hurried to her. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he said as gruffly as possible. It sounded weak even to him.

“I was going to see if I could get something fresh to wear from the store. Then I remembered that I don’t have my wallet. So I was going to ask to borrow money, and that seemed humiliating, so I guess I thought maybe you’d suggest new clothes if I came down looking like this.” She took a deep breath and looked at him. “Also, I suppose that I wanted to apologize. I know this isn’t easy for you, and I know having me around is just making things harder.”

Something was certainly hard, and it wasn’t exactly the situation. It suddenly occurred to him that when this was all over, he would never see her again. The thought hit him like a brick wall, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

“Go back up to the room,” he said quietly. “I’ll go get you something to wear.”

“Dmitri,” she started softly, but he only lifted an eyebrow. If she thought he was angry with her, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Twenty minutes later, he was back in the room with some bags. She sat on the bed with her wet hair wound to the side, and she looked hesitantly at him. He gave her a gentle smile.

“I’d like to take you out to dinner tonight,” he said gruffly.

She stared blankly at him. “I’m sorry?”

“Have you forgotten what dinner is?” he teased her gently.

“Dmitri, I appreciate the offer, but I can’t go out like this.”

He sat the bags on the bed. “I had to guess your size, but I’m sure one of those will fit you.”

She peered cautiously in the bags, and he watched as her eyes widened. He’d spent a good amount of money on the dresses in that bag, and he hoped they would do her justice. “Is this a date?” she asked cautiously.

Normally he would have shuddered at those words, but tonight, coming from her, they didn’t frighten him. Still, he knew he couldn’t give her more than this. “It’s a nice dinner. A thank you for helping me.”

“Last night wasn’t a thank you?”

He laughed gruffly. “I’ll be in the lobby when you’re ready. Don’t take forever.”

“So romantic,” she muttered, but she was already sorting through the things in the bag.

Half an hour later, Dmitri lost his breath as Charley emerged from the elevator. She was wearing the red dress that cut low at the top and high at the hemline. He knew she was bold enough to wear it, but he’d had no idea she’d be so breathtaking. She’d worn her naturally dark and curly locks down, and she wasn’t wearing a stitch of make-up.

He wanted to hike her dress up and take her right then and there in the lobby. “Sorry,” she said softly. “I would have been here sooner, but the hair dryer really blows, and I didn’t want to get the dress wet.”

“You look beautiful,” he said softly.

“I do clean up nicely, don’t I?” she said with a smile. “Of course, the dress helps. What is the occasion? Is it your birthday?”

His birthday? He didn’t even remember the date of his birth. Instead of answering, he held out his arm to her. She watched him suspiciously as she took it, and he whisked her out of the hotel. “While the food here is superb, I get bored of eating from the same menu night after night.”

“I’m fairly certain there is some symbolism in that,” she muttered, and he grinned.

“If the taste is exotic enough, I’m known to go back for seconds,” he said with a wicked smile.

Charley rolled her eyes. “So I’m all dressed up because you don’t want hotel food anymore? Has anyone told you that you might be bipolar? I mean, you’re chasing after the man you suspect killed your father. You’re trying to keep me alive. You’re trying to hide your identity from the rest of the world. You’re pissed that you have to babysit me, and now you want to take me to dinner. It’s very difficult to keep up with you.”

“Think of this dinner as an apology for my atrocious behavior,” he said as he opened the door to the car.

She bit her bottom lip as she stared at him. “Is this a last meal? Are you planning on feeding me to the wolves tomorrow?”

In a move that surprised even him, he bent down and kissed her. As his lips lingered on hers, his pulse started to race. Never had a woman so frustrated him and turned him on. “Charley,” he said softly. “Get in the damn car.”

Rolling her eyes, she ducked into the car. “It’s a valid question,” she complained as he shut the door.

“You’d think she’d be grateful,” he muttered to himself as he crossed the hood of the car. Realizing that he was now talking to himself, he shook his head regretfully. It looked as though she was rubbing off on him.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate a good dinner,” she said as he started the car. “You just don’t seem to make decisions on a whim.”

“I do like to be in control as much as possible…”

“I noticed,” she interjected.

He slid an annoyed look her way. “But in my line of work, survival is all about being flexible. Besides, I thought you might be feeling cooped up.”

“Cooped up?” she barked in laughter. “You’re the one who paces around the room like a caged animal. It’s like you’ve never spent a minute of your life standing still.” She immediately clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Dmitri asked, although he already knew the answer.

“I know you don’t like it when I probe into your past,” she finally said. “And for the record, I didn’t ask a question. I just made an observation.”

He kept one eye on the road and the other in the mirror. So far, it didn’t look as through anyone was following them. “You do realize that you know more about my life than I know about yours.”

“Like you haven’t probed into every part of my past.”

“Sure. I know what it looks like on paper. But you never talk about your time before school. You never talk about your family or your friends in America. You don’t slip in any high school references or what your undergraduate career was like. You never complain about exes or talk about crushes. You live your life as though you’re all about having fun, but you’re actually quite regimented. It’s all about balance.”

She didn’t say anything, and he dropped the subject. He hadn’t meant to bring it up. Dmitri understood the desperate need to keep the past in the past. Sometimes, there were very good reasons.

But he had looked at her background history, and it didn’t look as though there were anything for her to be ashamed of. She lost her parents as a teenager, and he imagined that probably hurt. But there was nothing in her background to suggest criminal activity. There was nothing to suggest she indulged in anything excessively. And she had obviously worked quite hard to get to where she was now. Still, she took great pains to hide that from everyone, and he wished he knew why.

When he pulled up to the restaurant, her jaw dropped. “Dmitri, this place requires reservations months in advance.”

“I have a standing reservation.” He got out and went around to the side to open her door. Much to his displeasure, she had already opened the door and was climbing out.

“Sorry,” she grimaced when she realized her faux pas. “I’m not used to men opening doors for me.”

“Not all chivalry is dead.” He offered her his arm, and this time there was no hesitation as she took it. As usual, he didn’t even have to give a name at the door. A woman wearing a skintight black dress looked shocked to see him, but she wisely didn’t make a big deal about it. Soon they were seated in a private corner of the dining room. The black leather booth sat plush against the wall but it hid behind several plants. No one would be able to see them without walking completely around the plants, but there were mirrors situated at the corners of the restaurant where he could see everything. Private and secure. Not to mention that the food was delicious.

She asked a few questions about the menu, and he made the order. After the wine was brought to the table and poured, he leaned back and studied her. “I’ll make you a deal. For every question that you answer, I’ll let you ask one in return. If either of us refuses to answer a question, then the interview is over.”

Dmitri watched as she nervously reached for her wine. “I promise you that nothing in my history is interesting enough for you to give up your trade secrets.”

“Let me decided that. I’ll even let you go first.”

She sat the glass of wine down and studied him. “How many lives have you taken?”

“Starting out with a pretty damning question. This night should be interesting. Unfortunately for you, I can’t answer that.”

Sitting back in the booth, Charley crossed her arms. “So the game is over even before we begin?”

“You misunderstand. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s simply that I don’t know the answer. You’re looking for a specific number, and I can’t give it to you. I know how many contracts I’ve taken, but there are casualties of my job that I don’t necessarily keep track of. Any number that I give you would simply be in the ball park range.”

“Is it more than ten?”

Dmitri exhaled slowly. “My dear, if you’re starting at ten, I guarantee that you aren’t ready for my answer.”

“Fine. I get to ask another.” He nodded his head to concede, and she wrinkled her brow in concentration. “Have you ever been married?”

“No.”

“Close?”

“Not so fast. It’s my turn now.” He smiled slowly. “Why Russia?”

She shrugged. “I’m a history major. America is a baby in diapers compared to the rest of the world. Europe is ripe with history, but going to England or Scotland or Ireland seemed too easy. I wanted something challenging. I’d taken a bit of Spanish in high school, so Spain was my first choice. I could have gone, too, but Russia intrigues me. It seems so open and honest. Almost brutally so. And I wanted to be here to scrape at the wound.”

“Interesting. To answer your previous question, no. I’ve never come close to marriage. And so that you’ll bury this line of questioning, I’ll go ahead and answer all the other ones. I’ve never been in a relationship with someone. I’ve never been in love, and I’ve never craved anyone before. My job is to lie to people. Love has nothing to do with it. Why don’t you like to talk about your past?”

Her eyes widened. “I thought the point of this game was to gently ease each other into information.”

“You’re welcome to forfeit the answer and thus the game.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear and shrugged. “This entire thing is based on your assumption that I care enough about your past to be curious. You should probably be working on the assumption that the less I know, the safer I feel.” He waited, and she finally sighed. “Fine. You’re not wrong. I don’t have anything scandalous in my history. I’ve had some bumps, but I’m a fairly well adjusted person. I handle bad things as most people handle them. Sometimes I drink too much or party too much, but I always know what’s important.”

“You haven’t answered the question.”

“The past is a fundamental part of a person. It absolutely shapes who they are in the present and predicts who they will be in the future. That makes the past extremely precious. Anyone with that kind of information will immediately judge a person based on the things that already happened. To have that knowledge is to have power over someone. It should only be given with extreme trust, and I don’t know very many people here well enough to share that power.”