10. Nadia
10
NADIA
T he man stopped, making me swing. My hair fell down, wetted and messed up from being upside down and carried over his shoulder. Rain continued to streak into my nose and mouth, and I growled at the burn up in my sinuses.
I didn’t care if this bastard was a member of the almighty and fearsome Valkov Bratva. He had no damn right to tote me around like this, like a sack of potatoes.
He cursed, violently and swiftly. I didn’t know what he’d said. The string of profanity was Russian, and I only recognized it because my dad used to let loose with a similar curse when he was pissed off.
“What?” I strained to turn and see, hindered by the rain and from being held over his shoulder like this. Grabbing onto his firm waist, I levered to the side to vainly search past him and see what had stopped him so short. “What’s wrong?”
Many things were wrong. This fucker thought he could capture me and drag me back home. He took the liberty to kiss me without my permission. And…
Something’s wrong with me, that’s for sure. Heat radiated my ass from his spanks. As I replayed the gritty words he told me, that I was being a bad girl, I cringed at the sensation of more arousal.
Something had to be seriously faulty with me to be turned on from this highhanded jerk spanking me. Telling me to behave. Carrying me around like he pleased. And kissing me senseless.
I refused to admit that I wanted this Valkov soldier. But my body didn’t lie. I was aroused. My panties were getting wet. If not from the rain falling on us, then definitely from my cream dripping at his actions and words.
“They stole both of our rentals,” he griped.
“What!” I struggled to get him to turn so I could see. No longer hitting him or demanding that he put me down, I gave up on protesting. He’d made his point clear. He didn’t intend to release me. Not until he delivered me to the fiancé I wanted to avoid.
As he lowered and set me on my feet, I experienced a confusing, stupid sensation of loss. I didn’t want him to let me go, and I hated that I could pull off such a one-eighty.
One kiss, and I was stuck on wanting him? It made no sense.
“They stole my car.”
He deadpanned at me. “I just said that.”
“But…” I furrowed my brow, annoyed with this drenched-to-my-bones feeling. Rain sheeted down without pause, and the low, dark clouds hinted at these conditions continuing for a long while.
“Come on.” He took my hand and stepped away, but I stayed rooted in place.
“For fuck’s sake, Nadia, don’t make me carry you again.”
I glowered at him. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Why do you care?” He rubbed his free hand over his face, swiping the water away. “So you can bitch at me with a personal effect?”
I gave him the finger.
“Or so you can dream about screaming it?” He got into my space, giving me that cocky smirk as he lowered his gaze to my breasts.
“I won’t?—”
A loud boom of thunder cut me off. The vibration from the earth traveled up my legs, trembling me from my feet to my knees.
“I said let’s go.” He shackled his fingers around my wrist and pulled me to walk with him again.
“What’s your name?” I repeated, knowing it wouldn’t change anything. He was determined to do as his boss tasked him. But I hated to realize that I wanted to know.
“Maxim.”
Maxim Valkov. I mentally repeated it to myself, like filing it away for future reference. It suited him. Powerful and direct. A mighty name for a mightier man. Yet, I couldn’t allow myself to admire him. It’d be wrong. Even though he kissed me like I’d always dreamed a man might, he was the enemy. As long as he planned to bring me back home to force me into a marriage with Lev Avilov, he remained my adversary. But…
“Why did you fight that man in London if you intended to bring me to Mr. Avilov?”
He scowled, scrunching his face up as he peered at me in the rain. “What?”
“That man…” I licked my lips, wishing the rain wasn’t so hard that it washed away the lingering, bold taste Maxim had given me with that kiss. I yearned to repeat it. I’d never been kissed before, and the newness of that gesture was addicting. No, he was addicting. I longed for another hit of heat to course through me. I missed the thrill of his tongue exploring my mouth and the flame of wanton need he inspired to flare inside me.
“What about him?” he asked.
“He was Mr. Avilov’s man.”
Stopping short, he faced me directly. That charming, smug smile was gone. Stupefied, he stared at me as the rain fell harder. “He was what?”
“That man in the bar that I was running from.” I dragged my wet hair from my face. “He was an Avilov man.”
He shook his head. “No. He couldn’t have been.”
I smirked. “Oh, you’d know?”
“Yes, I would know. That man didn’t have a mark on him.”
“A branding?” I taunted, laughing.
He tugged down the collar to his wet shirt. The T-shirt stuck to him like a layer I would love to peel off. I’d felt a sample of his hard, muscled physique pressed against me when he slammed my back to the tree. And I wished I could feel all of him.
A tattoo showed on the side of his neck, low and almost hidden under his collar.
“Any Avilov would be marked. Just like the Valkovs are marked.”
“That’s stupid.” I didn’t protest when he got us walking again. “Getting inked to be identified as one of the cult?”
“Not a cult. A family.”
“Sounds close enough.”
“Like you should talk. You’ve got a lot of ink.”
I shrugged. “It’s not to identify myself. It’s… an expression of art.”
“I didn’t ask for an explanation.”
I shot him a dirty glare.
“I saw no marking on that man.” He frowned, seeming pensive. “Then again, maybe he just got his mark somewhere else.”
“Are you Mafia men ‘allowed’ to pick where it goes?”
“Yes. My brother Nickolai got his somewhere private.”
“Well, I know that man worked for Mr. Avilov. He looked like that type.”
He huffed. “And that’s enough for you to jump to a conclusion?”
“I didn’t have to jump to any conclusion. Mr. Avilov made it clear six years ago that he intended to make me his bride. He had similar-looking thugs like that guy with him as backup. Ever since that day, I’ve been running and hiding, always looking over my shoulder for those kinds of creeps to come snatch me and make this wedding happen. No one else would’ve been looking for me like that.”
“Not necessarily.”
I frowned at him. I understood why Maxim was after me. He’d been sent, basically by my father, to retrieve me. “What do you mean?”
“If Avilov made it public knowledge that you were arranged to marry him, another enemy might have planned to kidnap you as leverage to attack him.”
“What, like taking something of his—or something he wants—to ensure he does what they want?”
He nodded. “Exactly that.” When he looked at me, it was with less antagonism. “Have you actually met anyone from the Avilov Family?”
I shook my head. “I ran out of the house when he tried to take me as a child bride.” When I was fifteen fucking years old. “I’ve seen pictures of him. I saw his security guards that night. I’ve always felt like I’d just know when one came for me.”
He remained silent, walking up this remote road. I didn’t know if he had a plan B or any strategy to follow, but it was better than what I was prepared to do. In a twisted, bizarre way, I felt safer with him. But I wasn’t. I wouldn’t be safe as long as he planned to take me home.
“Please, Maxim.”
He chuckled dryly. “As much as I love to hear you begging, sweetheart, you won’t make me change my mind.”
Sweetheart. I got the hunch he said it to tease me. To ridicule me, maybe even belittle me with a reminder that he was older and stronger than me. He had to have at least ten years on me, but that age difference didn’t bother me like the forty-plus years that stood between me and Mr. Avilov.
I bit my lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of backing down or trying my luck with persuasion.
While I was grateful for his protection so far, I couldn’t let myself appreciate him too much. I couldn’t if he was stuck in his decision to bring me home.
“Please understand. Look at it from my point of view.”
“That of a rebellious, stubborn woman who won’t do as she’s told?”
“I want my own life, Maxim. That isn’t too much to ask.”
He grunted. “I’m not the one to ask.”
“My father refuses to stand up for me and break his promise to Mr. Avilov. I can’t ask him.”
“That’s between you and your father.”
I drew in a deep breath as thunder boomed even closer.
“I can’t change anything about your fate.”
“You could let me go.”
He glared at me as he walked toward a vacation house that looked locked up and empty. “No.”
“I’ll run,” I threatened. “As soon as I can, I’ll run. Again and again.”
“Is that so?” He stopped at the front door, hugging me close as he reached in his pocket.
“I’ll never back down,” I promised. He made me a hypocrite as I said it, though. Binding my hands in zip-ties, he forced my arms back. In seconds, he had me secured.
“That should slow you enough to let me have a head start, then.” He winked, cocky and charming as ever, before he approached the door.
I watched as he picked the lock, then once the door to the vacant rental unit was open, he grabbed his gun and held it up to enter. One stern look from him was plenty of direction. He wanted me to walk in after him, and with a heavy exhale, I nodded and rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered.
He hadn’t bound my feet. I could walk or run, but I doubted I could do either well with my hands secured behind my back.
No one was inside, and with the lack of electricity in one room, the layers of dust in the kitchen, and the stillness of quiet, it seemed like this place hadn’t been occupied for a long time.
Tagging along after him, I scanned the small structure and appreciated a break from the constant slickness of rain.
All through the house, he checked for any threats or surprises. And we found none. The place had been abandoned, and I dared to think about falling onto the couches or beds and passing out. I knew better than to be fanciful and wish this were all just a bad dream that I could wake up from.
This was my reality, bound and captured by a soldier ordered to get me home.
“I won’t back down,” I repeated, even though several moments had passed since our last argument when we entered the building.
“No?” He stalked around me, towering over my back as he stepped up behind me. I’d paused near a tall mirror stationed in the corner of the bedroom. It was the last room we’d checked to make sure no one was hiding or waiting here.
I shivered at his proximity. “No.”
“Not even to me?” he taunted.
Something about being alone with him in the dark house made this more exciting than it had any right to be. No one could see us. No one would hear us. In the promise of that privacy, I wanted… more.
I tipped my chin up, matching his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. “No.”
He smiled, arrogant and so sinfully sexy. Like he was a man who knew what he wanted and was counting down the seconds until he got it. “Are you sure about that?” Staring at me as he kissed along my neck, he pushed into my back. With my hands bound just above my ass, my fingers were within perfect reach of his erection. He ground it against me, and I fisted my hands to resist grabbing him.
“How about you just bend over for me, instead?”