The Deception (13 page)

“You?” My jaw nearly drops, only years of discipline keep my face impassive.
An assassin wears a mask at all times. Not even his eyes can give him away.

Affronted, Vladimir sneers at me. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Yes, you sorry bastard, it is.
Discreetly, I take out my gun and show it to him. “Shall I do it now?”

“No.” His lips thin. “I know how this works. You’ll need to clear it with your contact, first. I have to know Sebastian will be safe.”

“What of Christian?” I put my gun away.

He makes a sound of disgust. “What of him?”

I’m confused at this point. Why not offer the younger son, instead of himself? Vladimir is known for many things, but sacrifice is not one of them. “I will allow you to choose the place, day, time, and method.”

He visibly relaxes. “Morocco, my yacht, in three days, nine am, and explosion. But first, I want something to relax me. I don’t want to feel a thing.”

“Are you positive?”

Instead of answering me, he asks, “How is Katerina?”

My distrust of him grows. He never concerns himself with her. “My mother is well.”

He nods. “This is good. Perhaps I should go see her, before... I love her, you know. You as well, Nikolai. But there are things she couldn’t give me, so I had to make a choice. I had to do what was best for my future.”

Is this his deathbed confession? I stare at him while he takes a sip of his coffee and then continues, “My father won’t live forever, and when he dies, change will happen. There are those who would like to see another in charge, one without the Romanov name.”

“Let them come,” I finally say.

“
Kolya
,” he says in a voice I haven’t heard since I was a small child. “You will be targeted first.”

“I know.” But what I don’t know, is why he appears to care. My life has never mattered to him before, only my status as grandfather’s favorite.

He sighs. “You’ve grown into a proper man, a man worthy to be head of the Romanov family. I wish my other sons were more like you.”

Vladimir has to be joking. Or insane. Possibly, he’s both. “You wish your sons to be killers?”

“
Blyad
.” He slices his hand through the air.  “They are soft and spoiled, the both of them. They’ve no understanding of our ways, though I tried to teach them.”

“Perhaps you should have left them with Grandfather.”
Like you did me.

“Perhaps. But I had different goals in mind for Sebastian and Christian.”

“What were your goals for me?” I have no idea why I ask this. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need his approval. I don’t need him at all.

He smiles. It is neither evil nor sweet and indulgent. His smile is just
there
, a mere movement of muscles forced upwards.  “To survive.”

Setting my coffee down, I rise to my feet. “I’ll let you know.” Without waiting for his reply, I walk away, disappearing into the crowds in case he has an urge to follow.

I glance at my watch. Only thirty minutes passed while we talked, while we decided who lived and died. Cold seeps into my bones. Cold and desolation. I have to kill my father in order to save his son.

Playing God is overrated.

THE DECEPTION

W
hen I return to the hotel, Ben is where I left him. He gets up when he sees me, shoving his phone in the back pocket of his trousers.

“That didn’t take long,” he says cheerfully and nods at the door. “Completely quiet.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “I’m surprised you admitted to feeling anything at all for her.”

Affronted, I turn to him. “I feel things.”

“Hunger and pain don’t count.”

“Why do I engage you?” I run a hand through my hair.

He punches me in the shoulder. “Because I’m your favorite cousin.”

Ben’s not my only cousin, so I can’t reply with that. “You’re tolerable.”

“Admit it,
Kolya
. You love me.”

I grunt in reply.

“That’s caveman for yes,” he says as I produce the hotel key.

“Go home to your mother, boy.”

“
Your
mother has left her home,” Ben says as I open the door.

I pause. “And?”

“She boarded a plane to uh...” He scratches his chin. “Somewhere sunny.”

Somewhere sunny? Jesus. I don’t need this added burden. “Perhaps she needed a holiday.”

“Yeah. Okay, so later, cuz.” He walks away, whistling as he goes. His shoulders are broad, without the weight of the world on them. For some reason, Grandfather has not insisted he be trained as an assassin. Instead, Ben concentrates on computers. Most likely, he’s a hacker.

I shove all thoughts of Ben away as I step inside the suite. I hear water running in the bathroom and make my way there, taking off my clothes as I go.

Just as I suspect, Everly is in the shower. Water and soap run down her body as she washes. My dick gets hard. I step inside, tossing the condom on the shower seat as she turns around. She slaps a hand on her chest, a small squeak escaping her.

“You scared me to death,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck. Her hot, wet body presses into mine. “How is your grandfather?”

“As expected.”

“Which means?”

“No visitors.”

She frowns.

“Yet. Perhaps at the end of the week. Surely, you can stay a bit longer with me.” I dip my head, claiming her mouth for a kiss, not wanting to hear her answer. When I’m with her, I have no thought of the future, of my job, of death, or the past. I’m fully in the present.

“I can stay longer.” She slides her hands down my back and grabs my ass. “I could bounce a quarter off this.”

“This is a good thing?”

Everly laughs. “A very good thing.”

“Are you sore?”

She nods, a fierce blush covering her face. “I had to hobble in here.”

“My poor girl. Shall I run a bath for you?” I reach between us, cupping her. “I could wash you.”

Her breath hitches. “Please, Roman. I’m... I can’t.”

I rub her swollen clit, and she makes a breathy sound. “You can. I’ll be gentle.” Lifting her up, I lean her against the tiled wall of the shower, and then grab the condom I brought with me. In less than thirty seconds, it’s in place, and I’m ready to claim her once more.

“Put your legs around my waist.”

She wraps her legs around me as I work the head of my dick inside of her. Her sweet lips part with a whimper. I won’t lie by saying that the thought her struggling to take me doesn’t turn me on. The erotic resistance against my cock makes me growl low in my throat in complete ecstasy.

“Easy, easy,
sólnishko moyó
, ” I croon in Russian.
My sweetheart
. “Just a little at a time.”

Her fingernails dig into my skin and my hips jerk against her, sending me deep inside. I groan as her hot walls clench at me.

“That’s more than just a little,” she says, breathless and accusing.

Christ, had I hurt her? “I’m sorry, love.” I start to withdraw. “I’ll stop.”

She tightens her legs around me. “No. Don’t stop. Want you inside me.”

“How deep?”

Her eyes darken. “As deep as you can go.”

I thrust hard and her head falls back. I lick a path up her neck. “How’s this?”

I pull out and thrust inside again. “And this?” Over and over, I sink into her, not allowing her time to answer. I want her mindless. I want her screaming my name.

Biting down on her neck, I scrape my teeth against her skin. Her thighs quiver. I groan. Her entire body trembles.

I find the lobe of her ear, licking and sucking on it. “You’ve been so very good, taking all of my cock when your pussy is so sore from fucking. Shall I allow you to come?”

“God, Roman. When you talk like that,” she gasps.

I push the hair that’s fallen out of her beautiful face. “Like what?”

“So honest. So real.” She blinks up at me. “It turns me on and makes me want to be that way with you, too.”

I let my forehead drop to hers as I slow my thrusts, as I force my body to become tender and loving, instead of this savage beast I’ve let out.

This is the only time I can be honest with her. Well, not entirely. She doesn’t know my real name. She doesn’t know I’m a killer. That I’m a filthy monster hiding in plain sight. Why in the hell did I ever allow things to go this far with us?

“Roman?”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Yes, love?”

“Make me come,” she orders, and just like that, I’m out of my head and focused on her once more.

***  ***  ***

A
s I suspected, Everly adores the Astronomical clock. She takes picture after picture with her phone, smiling all the while.

“Roman,” she shouts, waving me over. “Let’s take a picture together.”

Like a dutiful lover, I stride to her and indulge in the pretense of our relationship. It’s not entirely one-sided, but I’m guarding my heart against her.

“Thank you,” she says, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

My heart speeds up from her innocent show of affection. So much for guarding it.

I take her hand, lace our fingers together, and begin to walk with her along the streets. It’s cold, and our breath comes out in little puffs of air.

“Are you enjoying your trip?” I ask, stopping by a street vendor to purchase cups of hot chocolate.

Eyes sparkling in the streetlights, she smiles. “Best trip ever.” Her smile fades. “Well, it would be, if the reason we came here wasn’t because your grandfather had gotten worse.”

“There is nothing wrong with enjoying yourself.” I hate that she feels so guilty over a lie. “In fact, I told him about you. Showed him a picture I had taken.”

“You did?” She takes the hot chocolate from the street vendor. “What did he say?”

“That you are a beautiful woman with a loving spirit.”

Her smile returns. “So, that’s where you get your charm.”

It’s where I learned to lie, learned to kill, and learned to enjoy my solitude. “What about you?”

“My charm comes naturally to me.” She winks. “All southern women are born with it. If you aren’t, then they kick you out and make you go live up north with the Yankees.”

“But you’re a Yankee,” I point out.

Everly makes a face, clearly offended. “I am
not
.”

“But some of my friends are, and the little old ladies I help are from up north, bless their hearts,” she adds quickly. She sighs. “That was ugly.”

“It was?” I have no idea what she means by this.

She nods. “Yes. I shouldn’t be offended, but it’s like taking all of Europe and saying everyone’s German or Polish. I prefer the term American.”

Clearly, I have hit a sore spot that I didn’t know existed. “You prefer Europeans to be called Americans? Aren’t you a little presumptuous.”

Laughing, she lightly smacks my shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

“I do, but you love it when I tease, so...”

She leans against me and sighs one of her adorable sighs. “I do love you—when you tease me, that is.” An uncomfortable silence fills what little space is between us. I can pretend to have only heard the last part and not the first. But at this moment, I can’t pretend at all. I can’t ignore her slip of the tongue. Yet, I remain mute.

After a minute, she clears her throat. “Look. People selling things. I like things.”

She walks away, steaming cup of hot chocolate in her hand. I rub the back of my neck. Take down evil in the world, kill in the morning, and back in the States by the afternoon in order to see her face. Absolutely no problem.

But to acknowledge what lies in Everly’s heart and possibly mine—I’m a bloody rookie.

THE DECEPTION

I
join her on the balcony of our suite. She’s bundled up in a fluffy, white robe. She didn’t say much on the way back, but she had held my hand the entire time.

A good sign, I suppose.

The view of Prague from
Hotel Pariz
is world famous, and the starry night sky is beyond words, but all I see is Everly. The graceful curve of her neck, the way her skin nearly glows in the moonlight, and the small smile on her lips. Does she even know I’m outside with her, or is she so lost in her thoughts that I’m not even a blip on her radar?

I cover her small hand with mine. Her skin is ice cold. “Shall we go to bed?”

“I’m not sleepy,” she says, still not turning my way.

“We don’t have to go to sleep.”

She shakes her head, sending mahogany-colored waves tumbling over her back. “I’m not—”

“We could watch a film.”

Finally, she turns to me and there are tears in her eyes. Shocked and furious, I look for the one who has done this to her. “What’s wrong?”

She shrugs, her lower lip trembling. “I don’t know.”

“Are you hurt?”

“I don’t know,” she repeats, and I start to panic. What does she know? Has Viktor gotten to her? “I’m not sure what’s going on, Roman.”

Fuck me. She does know. “I’m only trying to protect you, Everly. I want you to know that. If you believe nothing else about me, believe that I never want to see you hurt or—”

“Protect me from what—myself?” She sniffs, her spine visibly stiffening. “I’m a stupid romantic who decided to take a chance and fly halfway around the world with a man she’s known for months, yet knows absolutely nothing at all about. And it’s plain as the nose on my face that you don’t feel the way I do.”

Taking her by the shoulders, I bend my knees slightly to get on eye level with her. “I forbid you from calling yourself stupid. There’s not a damn thing wrong with being a romantic, with taking a chance... I’ve—you don’t know what I’ve risked being with you.”

“You’re right. I don’t know, because you don’t share anything about yourself. While I can’t shut up. You know everything about me, from my family to my favorite drink. You know what I like to read, my favorite candy... while I don’t even know how you like your coffee.  Or how you got that scar on your back.”

I take her in my arms, trying to comfort her. “But you do know,” I murmur into her hair. “You know more about me than you think. More than any other person should.”