Chapter 7
7
Ian McCloud swore as he watched the Antonov 26 lift off of Zaghastani soil carrying his sister and the bastard who’d stabbed him.
He—grudgingly—gave Koronov props for not killing him in cold blood. But the guy was a traitor like his father and seriously needed to die. If he’d needed any more proof of that, the Russian military markings on the plane flying off in the distance confirmed it.
He couldn’t believe Koronov had gotten the jump on him like that. But he probably should have expected it, given that the man had managed to slip out of the Karshan valley alive.
Thankfully, Alex had gotten Katie out of there alive and unhurt, too. He supposed he owed the bastard one for that. He’d been following his little sister as a side gig to his observation mission in the region. He was convinced Katie was in over her head and might need emergency extraction at some point.
But when the Russian Spetznatz team running with the local rebels had gone full-out scorched earth on the Karshan pass and all its inhabitants, even he, a hardened Spec Ops type, had been taken aback at the carnage.
Then, of course, there was his other, off-the-books mission—learning where Alexei Petrovich Koronov’s loyalties lay and taking him out if he did anything to harm the U.S. government. Of course, if Alex harmed his little sister, he would take the bastard out regardless of his loyalties.
Now that he was fucking gutted and Koronov stole his ride, he wasn’t going to be able to re-establish surveillance on the Russian hit team to figure out why they were out here or who was giving them orders.
He wouldn’t be at all surprised if Alex Koronov and his father weren’t pulling the team’s strings. It would explain how Alex kept managing to stay one step ahead of the “rebels” marauding through the region.
What the hell were the Koronovs up to out here?
Frustrated all to hell as the Antonov droned away into the haze obscuring the rising sun, he cranked up his satellite phone and extended its long antenna. Reception out here sucked even on a sat phone, and he prayed to the electronic gods that the cursed thing worked today.
Static crackled, and a tinny voice said, “Identify.”
“It’s Candyman. Current location and authentication to follow. Standby to copy.”
When the guy at the other end indicated he was ready to copy, Ian rattled off the lat-long coordinates from his GPS and the six-letter-code from his one-time use pad. While he waited for verification, he tore the top sheet off the pad and lit it with a match. The flash paper burned brightly and was gone in a puff of ash almost as quickly as it ignited.
“You are authenticated. Go ahead Candyman.”
“I need a secure patch to a land line.”
“Roger. Standby.”
This pause took longer. It was a laborious process to turn a sat phone call into a secured telephone call. But eventually, the voice came back up. “You’ll hear three clicks, then the line will go live and secure.”
The familiar clicks sounded. He dialed a memorized number he’d been given to report completion of that side ‘favor’ involving Alex Koronov. God knew who was on the other end of it.
An anonymous male voice answered the call. “Good evening.”
Evening? That placed the guy in the western hemisphere. North or South America, because it was morning over here.
“Umm, I was told to call this number to report on a…project.”
“I’m familiar with your phone number. I’ll relay your report.”
Well, okay, then. Sounded like somebody official. His report would move up through the layers of someone’s bureaucracy. Some alphabet-named government agency if he had to guess.
“The target is not neutralized. Repeat, not neutralized. Departed this location approximately ten minutes ago in an Antonov 26 aircraft painted in military gray and Russian flagged. No tail numbers displayed. The aircraft was last seen turning northbound.”
“Roger. Will relay.”
“Do you have any further instructions for me?”
“Negative.”
Now he could only pray Alex slipping way didn’t lead to recriminations against him. He had no idea what the fallout would be from Koronov being alive and free and apparently headed for Russia.
As for Katie being with Koronov, he was worried about her. She was totally clueless about the situation she was flying into.
He disconnected that call and placed a second call. “It’s Candyman. You need me to go through the whole authentication process again?”
“Nah, I recognize your voice. Go ahead. Whatchya need?”
“I need medevac from this location.”
“What happened to your wheels?”
“Stolen by the bastard who stabbed me.”
“Are you ambulatory?”
He looked down at the big gauze bandage plastered over his wound. It had a bright crimson stain in the middle of it about the diameter of a quarter. If he was gonna bleed out, he’d have done it by now. Koronov’s internal pressure bandage was holding. “That’s affirmative,” he transmitted. “I can walk.”
“Standby.” Eventually the voice came back with, “Make your way to the following coordinates. Ready to copy?”
He pulled out a small pad of paper and a pen. “Go ahead.”
The Russian aircrew rigged up a cradle for Dawn and took pleasure fussing over the baby until the vibrating drone of the propellers knocked out both Dawn and Katie.
Katie woke groggy enough that she thought she’d been out for a while. About an hour after she woke up, the plane completed a bumpy descent and landed. Nervous to see where Alex had taken her, she looked around as she stepped out of the aircraft.
Whoa. This was definitely not Kansas, Dorothy. The airport terminal was a tired, gray, three-story block of a building with a gently upcurving portico that tried to be modern and failed miserably. The terminal looked at least fifty years old and was showing its age. “Time warp, much?” she muttered.
Alex grimaced like he was none too thrilled to be here—wherever here was—either.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Osh.”
“Sorry. Where?” The only Osh she knew of was Oshkosh. And this was emphatically not Wisconsin.
“Osh. In Kyrgyzstan. Second largest city in the country. Near the Uzbek border.”
Right. And that helped her locate herself.
Alex grinned. “Not big on central Asian geography, are you?”
“Not much.”
“Try this. Kyrgyzstan borders the northwesternmost corner of China. Or, if you fly due north out of Afghanistan or Pakistan, and cross over Tajikistan, you reach Kyrgyzstan. Osh is in the southwestern corner of the country. Located now?”
“More or less. The important question is, where do I get that shower you promised me and proper baby supplies for Dawn?”
“Actually, we have one more hurdle to cross before you get your shower.”
She raised a questioning brow and he replied, “Customs.”
“I have my passport with me,” she responded quickly.
“As do I. But we’ve got to get Dawn through, too.”
Oh. Crap .
“I took the liberty of filling out a birth certificate for her and signing it,” he muttered under his breath. “I listed you as the mother and me as the father. It’ll save us a world of hassles. I hope you don’t mind.”
Her tummy fluttered at the idea of the three of them being a family, but she checked the notion, reminding herself she had no idea who this man was. He wasn’t her type of guy, no matter how good-looking and hot he was.
“I don’t mind,” she whispered back as an official looking man in a uniform strode toward them.
Alex spoke in rapid Russian with the fellow, who duly took their passports and examined them carefully. Katie felt helpless just standing there, but Alex seemed to be having no trouble charming the uniformed man. The discussion went back and forth for several minutes, and then, abruptly, the customs man went to the hood of his pick-up truck, unfolded a small lap desk, and stamped their passports. He handed over three slips of light green paper, as well.
“Temporary visas,” Alex murmured.
She nodded and smiled at the Kyrgyz man, who smiled back and said something that made Alex laugh.
The guy apparently offered them a ride to the terminal, because Alex opened the passenger door for her, helped her inside, and then climbed in the back of the small vehicle. Dawn started to cry, for which Katie was grateful. It gave her an excuse not to have to smile and nod too much at the man beside her.
They piled out at the terminal, and Alex led her through the building, which was even dingier on the inside, and out front to a taxi stand. He helped her into an ancient vehicle of unknown make painted up like a taxi and slid in beside her. He gave the driver directions and the vehicle pulled away from the curb.
“What did the customs guy say that made you laugh?” she asked.
Alex arched one eyebrow at her. “He told me I have good taste in women.”
Was she about to become one of his long string of conquests? Nowhere in their conversation so far about sex had there been any mention of an actual relationship. Clearly, Alex was not interested in commitments…even if he had legally declared himself Dawn’s father. That was merely a ploy to deal with government red tape.
The city sliding past their windows was more modern than she expected, but more run down than any modern city she’d ever seen. Occasional grand structures and a tall statue of Lenin in a big square spoke of the Soviet regime’s time here, and bullet-pocked building facades spoke of more recent political upheavals.
The cab stopped in front of another gray, blocky building, and Alex murmured, “Here’s our hotel.”
He opened her door for her and took Dawn as she climbed out. They walked into the lobby and she asked in sudden dismay, “How are we going to pay for this?”
Alex shrugged, “I have significant financial resources at my disposal.”
Oh, right. Compliments of the mafia casinos—or maybe Mother Russia.
In short order, they were installed in a spacious, room decorated with gorgeous antiques and rich colors. It had tall windows and high ceilings that gave it a grand air. A crib was delivered for Dawn immediately.
Katie had barely finished exploring the room and discovering the big, deep, cast-iron bathtub when Alex said, “I’ll leave you to a nice long soak while I go shopping for Dawn.”
She heard the subtle evasion in his voice.
She frowned. He was obviously planning to do other things while he was out, too, Phone his father, maybe? Report in to his FSB superiors?
He left, and she stared at the telephone on the nightstand. Assuming she could even manage to make an overseas call, who would she contact?
They probably ought to let Doctors Unlimited know what had happened and that they were alive. But Alex seemed in no rush to notify their employer, and after his comments about it not being what it seemed, she was hesitant to do so, either.
For the moment, she got Dawn settled in her first real bed, and headed eagerly for the bathroom and that lovely tub. Grabbing a bottle of what she assumed was shampoo sitting on the counter, she ran a steaming hot bath and slid into it blissfully.
Eventually, when the dirt had soaked out of her pores and she’d shampooed her hair within an inch of its life, she eyed her filthy clothes piled on the floor. She climbed out of the tub and dried off, and then dropped the whole mess of clothes into the soapy bath water. She did her best to scrub them clean.
She wrung out her heavy, sodden clothes and hung them up to dry.
Note to self: hug her washer and dryer when she got back home and tell them how very much she loved them both .
She wrapped herself in one of the big bath towels, turbaned her hair in another towel, and stepped into the main room to check on Dawn.
Alex looked up from the side of the crib and took in her terry cloth décolletage with a thoroughness that left her breathless.
“I washed my clothes,” she mumbled.
“I bought you new ones.”
“Bless you.”
He grinned. “They’re in the bag on the bed.”
A half-dozen bags laid on the bed, and as she headed for the pile, she stared into the crib in surprise. Dawn wore a fuzzy pink onesie-sleeper, and the distinctive bubble of a diaper was visible under it. Alex tucked a pink blanket around the sleeping baby as she looked on.
“She’s adorable,” Katie cried under her breath. “Thank you so much for getting her something warm. I’ve been so worried about her getting chilled.”
He shrugged and actually looked abashed. “She’s been a trooper. It was high time to spoil our little princess a little.”
Was he actually fond of Dawn? Who’d have guessed the big bad bachelor spy would fall for a baby?
Katie rummaged through the bags and pulled out a pair of jeans, a lavender t-shirt, and a hoodie sweatshirt. They looked like they would fit well enough to get her home. But that was about all she could say about their fashion sensibility.
“There’s more,” Alex murmured from behind her.
She dug in the bottom of the bag and came up with a handful of sheer black fabric. It was a bra and matching bikini briefs trimmed with little red bows. Both were see-through and trashy, and her cheeks flamed. But the lingerie was clean, and that outweighed any objections she might have to its taste quotient.
“The only other option was granny panties and matching bras,” he commented dryly. “Given your predilection for skimpy lace, I figured you’d prefer those.”
She retreated to the bathroom, slipped into the bra and panties, and stared at herself in the mirror, shocked. She looked like a…a harlot. All she needed were fishnet stockings and garters to complete the look. But her bare legs topped by that black see-through nylon were pretty dirty all by themselves.
She jumped about a foot in the air when a voice said form the doorway, “I approve.”
“Alex! You can’t just barge in on a lady when she’s dressing!”
“Why not? I’ve already seen you mostly naked, and you’ve seen me naked. I’ve had my hands on your body, and as if that’s not enough, I’m a doctor. I’m used to naked bodies.”
Yeah, and he had a long history with women. The kind of women who had no modesty and were at ease doing naughty things she couldn’t even imagine. This kind of lingerie wouldn’t phase them. But he was decent enough not to bring that up.
Instead she remarked tartly, “Doctors don’t look at their patients in sexy underwear.”
He shrugged. “Most of my patients were male prison inmates. Not much black lace in that crowd.” His lips twitched with humor. “None of them could pull it off like you do, anyway.”
He pushed away from the doorframe and advanced until he stood directly behind her, tall and dark in contrast to her fair skin. He’d changed into a black shirt and black dress slacks that made him look like a mobster. A smoking hot mobster.
Staring over her shoulder at her body with his eyes blazing, she decided he actually looked more like a fallen angel looming behind her waiting to claim her eternal soul.
Her pulse leaped at the raw lust in his expression. An urge to cover herself nearly overcame her, but she suspected he would mock her for false modesty. After all, she’d had a screaming orgasm on his hand only a few hours ago.
As if he was thinking about the exact same thing, he reached out slowly and placed his palm on the back of her neck. His hand felt unnaturally hot. He ran his fingers up under her hair, lifting it off her neck and shoulders. Then, slowly, he dragged his fingertips downward, tracking her spine lower and lower. Past her shoulder blades, past her waist, and to the rising swell of her behind. And then, ohgod ohgod, lower still, down the cleft between her cheeks. She had to force herself not to leap away from his leisurely caress as it slid lower and pressed gently between her legs.
Without his having to ask or urge, she moved her feet apart, opening herself to him.
Her head fell back, coming to rest on his shoulder as her eyes drifted closed. Through the crotch of the panties, his fingers played on her feminine flesh, which was all too eager to respond to his touch.
His left hand touched her ribs. Slid around to her front. Cupped her left breast, lifting it and testing its weight. His thumb circled around her nipple, and it pebbled up beneath the sheer nylon. Above and below, his fingers played with her, circling and stroking, teasing her body. Lust, hot and liquid, speared through her, and her knees went so weak she feared she might collapse.
Her body undulated against his, and she felt like a puddle of molten desire. Something warm touched her neck. His lips. His mouth opened and his teeth closed on her skin.
He didn’t bite her as much as he held her in place. It was primal and raw and sent bolts of electric pleasure zinging through her to gather where his magical thumbs were driving her crazy.
“Put your hands on the counter,” he murmured.
She was standing a few feet from the sink and had to reach forward to splay her fingers on the cold marble.
“Spread your legs wider.”
He moved close behind her, his groin hot and hard against her behind. He reached up with both hands this time to fondle her breasts, which felt heavy and swollen in their nylon confines.
His hands rand down her ribs to clasp her hips and then slid forward and down to grasp her inner thighs. He lifted her up slightly, tilting her hips forward until she was spread completely open to him from behind. And then his magic fingers went to work on her flesh once more, casting their spell of pleasure on her body.
“Look at me,” Alex ordered. “In the mirror.”
She opened her eyes and stared at the tableau. Her hair was disheveled and her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright with lust. She looked nothing like herself.
But then she spied Alex and was mesmerized. That intense fire burned in his eyes, which were black and so very alive as he looked at her body, devouring the sight of her undulating shamelessly on his fingers. The mere sight of him stroking her like this brought her to the brink of release and the pressure built toward an explosion rapidly.
“Don’t come yet,” Alex ordered sharply. “You will do it only when I say so.”
She stared at him, stunned. The explosion retreated slightly as she asked, “How do I stop it?”
“You must discipline yourself. Hold it in. Restrain the impulse to lose control. If you fail, I will have to punish you.”
Something dark and dangerous passed through his eyes when he said that, and a frisson of alarm skittered through her.
Wait a minute. This was Alex. He would never hurt her. And with that comforting realization, her lust expanded ten-fold.
“Ahh, ahh, ahh. No orgasm, yet, pet,” he warned.
She concentrated on the bolts of lust zinging around in her belly. More quickly than she could believe, they were aligning themselves like magnetic charges centered on his fingers playing so cleverly between her legs.
The energy built and built, and she fought like mad to stop it from reaching critical mass. But it was unbelievably hard as his fingers kept coaxing more and more voltage from her body.
“Alex, please,” she pleaded. “I can’t take it anymore.”
“Yes, you can.” His left hand gripped the back of her neck and pushed her head down until her elbows rested the counter and her forehead rested on her forearms. The pose opened her entirely to his plunder, and her need to explode climbed a few more notches.
She groaned with pleasure, and then moaned, and then begged, “Please, God, Alex. I can’t stand it.”
“Almost, Angel. Tell me how bad you want it.”
“I’ll do anything for you. Just let me come.”
He leaned over her, covering her with his hot, hard body. He slipped his left index finger into her mouth and she sucked it mindlessly, desperate to do anything, everything, to gain his permission to explode.
His right index finger slipped inside the lace panty, poised at her convulsing entrance. “Ready?” he murmured in her ear.
She nodded, too overcome by lust to speak.
“Now,” he ordered. “Come for me, now.”
He didn’t even have to penetrate her with his finger. Just the thought of it plunging into her female heat made her detonate. She went up like a rocket, incinerating in a blazing glory that ripped a cry from her throat. On and on it went, tearing her apart from the inside out. She only belatedly realized it was Alex’s name she was sobbing, so overwhelmed was she by wave after shuddering wave of unbearable pleasure.
Her knees did collapse then, but Alex lifted her hips in his strong hands and set her back on her feet and pulled her upright.
He held her in his arms, pressed back tightly against his body. In the mirror, his hands were tanned and strong against the pale flesh of her stomach. She smiled at him and was shocked at how sultry and well pleasured she looked.
“You really must teach me how to do that to you,” she sighed, relaxing back against him.
“You’re proving to be a more apt pupil than I anticipated,” he replied in a detached tone.
“And the absent professor is back,” she murmured drolly.
He frowned at her, and she couldn’t resist grinning back at him. “Never fear. I like both sides of you, Alex.”
Truth be told, she was beginning to suspect there were many sides to this complex man. She probably ought to fear some of them, but mostly she was fascinated at the prospect of unraveling the mystery.
“You’re such an open book,” he commented.
“Is that bad?” She could envision a man like him wanting a complex and challenging woman.
“Lord, no. It’s just unexpected. I’m so used to women with hidden agendas that I find myself not knowing exactly how to react to you.” As she started to frown again, he added, “I like your honesty.”
If only she was being as fully honest as he thought she was. How would he react if he found out her brother had sicced her on him to watch him? Or that she was intentionally trying to get him to let down his guard and tell her all about himself? Or that she had a tracker in her back?
Would he let go of the dark streak he was currently keeping so tightly in check? The notion thrilled her like nothing she’d ever felt before. And it made her nervous. No question, she was playing with fire.
She barely recognized the woman she was becoming, all of a sudden. Since when was she such an adrenaline junkie? Since they’d nearly died on a mountainside and she’d learned how piercingly satisfying the thrill of cheating death could be?
She turned in Alex’s arms and gave him a lopsided smile. “I think I hear the baby.”