Chapter 3 Alison #2
At the next red light, our cars stopped close enough that I could see him glaring at me in his rear-view mirror, his gray eyes absolutely furious.
I smiled sweetly, feeling a little thrill of victory.
I wanted him pissed off and shaken, I wanted him pressured.
Pressured criminals make mistakes, and mistakes are how I catch them.
At first, I thought it wasn’t working. He drove with mechanical precision to the gleaming skyscraper that housed Aristov Incorporated, the massive property company run by his brother.
I waited for him outside, then followed him to the casino.
Then to the docks. Aside from the scowls he gave me each time he climbed out of his car, it was like he was pretending I wasn’t there.
But no criminal can be calm with a cop breathing down their neck. As the day went on, I saw his shoulders start to hunch with tension and his driving becoming jerky. I was getting to him.
And then, just as the sun was setting, it happened.
He turned suddenly down an alley, and I missed the turn and had to reverse. For a second, I thought I’d lost him. Then I saw his car, down at the end. I accelerated...and then had to pull up fast when I realized his car was stopped. Too late, I saw that there was no one inside.
I saw movement in my peripheral vision, twisted around.
..and saw Gennadiy standing next to my car.
He stared at me through the glass, his gray eyes breathtakingly cold.
I swallowed. He was much, much taller than me, even when I was standing.
Sitting down, it was like having a giant towering over me.
He put his hands on my car’s roof, like he was planning to rip it off. His fingers began a slow, deliberate drumbeat on the metal. His expression said, What are we going to do with you?
An iron band tightened around my chest. We were all alone in the alley. No one would see. Suddenly, following him on my own didn’t seem like such a great idea.
Gennadiy’s eyes flicked down to the window controls, then back up to mine. I debated, my heart hammering. If he wanted to, he could punch straight through the window anyway, and wrap those tattooed fingers around my throat again.
I thumbed the switch. The window hummed down, intrusively loud in the silence.
A breeze swept down the alley, toying with his hair, and I caught a hint of his cologne.
It was smooth and subtle, but it had a deep, rich finish of sandalwood and vanilla that was the most primally sexual thing I’d ever smelled.
It was like being wrapped in strips of silk and then hauled in and smooshed against hard male muscle.
My face heated, and a thread of energy corkscrewed down to my groin. Damn, he smelled good.
His eyes raked over me. They seemed to linger on my chest, even though there isn’t exactly much to see there, then carried on down over my gray suit pants.
That magnificent, full lower lip curled.
“So this is what you look like when you’re not all dressed in leather.
” Maybe it was just his accent, but leather sounded teasing.
He leaned in a little closer. “Why are you following me?”
“Why do you think?” I felt the anger rising: everything he was, everything he’d done, everything people like him had done. “Consider yourself put on notice, Mr. Aristov. The FBI is watching you very, very closely.”
He shook his head slowly, his eyes locked on mine. “Don’t try to take me on, Agent Brooks. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
My stomach flipped, fear pushing aside the anger, and I fought to keep my voice level. “That sounds like a threat.”
“Threats are for people who are afraid to take action.”
He glowered down at me, willing me to back off, and I was scared enough that I almost did.
He’d tensed in anger, and as his shoulders pulled back, his tailored shirt had pulled tight across the broad curves of his pecs.
The physical presence of him was intimidating as hell, and coupled with that legendary rage.
.. He could end me without a second thought.
But that stubborn part of me right down at the center of my soul wouldn’t give in. I owed it to my parents. “Better tell that private chef of yours to start cooking you some prison food,” I managed. “Ease the transition.”
He blinked exactly once. Then his jaw set and—
I felt something. Like after years of drifting through space, I’d suddenly collided with my perfect opposite, and we’d just locked together with a firm, magnetic seal, a human yin-yang symbol.
He’s my nemesis. That’s what it was. And as we stared at each other, I saw something change in his eyes. He feels it, too.
Then, without a word, he turned and stalked off towards his car, muscled shoulders swaying from side to side, his suit jacket tight across his broad back. My heart was hammering. It’s the adrenaline.
He started his car, and I threw mine into gear. He glanced in his rear-view mirror and for a second, our eyes locked again. Then he sped away...and I followed.