Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
THORA
“You and animals, I swear,” my best friend, Blair, says as we step out of the store, the door swinging shut behind us. “One day it’s going to get you into trouble.”
“Aww, but look at him.” I stare at my current fixation, a massive Cane Corso tied to the post near the side.
As soon as he gave me those puppy dog eyes, I had to stop. It would be a crime not to.
“I can’t just leave him when he’s staring at me like that. It’s like he’s begging me to come over and give him some love.”
Blair snorts. “That thing definitely wants something, and it ain’t love. It’s probably hungry and wants to eat you.”
“Stop it. He does not.” I swing the handbag higher on my arm and head toward him. “He’s just misunderstood. Aren’t you, sweetie?”
Approaching a random dog on the street is probably not my finest moment, but hey, I wouldn’t be Thora Whitlock if I didn’t at least check on him before I left. I mean, how long has he been here in the sun? When is the owner coming back? These are all very valid questions.
When I grow closer, he growls a little, but his tail starts wagging, which could mean two things: he either does want to eat me…or he’s just lonely and wants a hug.
“You do you, but I’m going to hang back.” She flings her wavy blonde tendrils off her shoulder as she shakes her head at me, which actually sums up our friendship quite well.
I see the good in every creature, while she prefers to damn them all to hell. People especially, but who can blame her? We’re the worst.
Up close, the dog’s neck seems even bigger than I thought, his cropped ears flicking when I take another step. He doesn’t bark or throw himself at the end of the chain. He just stands there glaring, his body drawn tight.
“Thora.” Blair’s voice turns edgier behind me. “You need to back the hell up. I don’t want to have to explain to your father why you got eaten by a dog. He has enough on his plate.”
She’s not wrong. But my father always has a lot on his plate between Blackthorn Ridge Ranch back in Texas, the farm here in New Jersey, and of course all the illegal operations my family handles. But still, a dead daughter would probably rank high on his list.
Yet when it comes to animals, I’m a lost cause.
“We’ll just make sure his owner returns, and then we can go.”
“And you can’t do that from next to me? You have to be all up in that thing’s face?”
Letting out a laugh, I lower myself in front of the dog, lifting my hand slowly and giving him all the space in the world to turn away if he wants to. “He won’t hurt me. Right, handsome?”
He watches me with that same heavy stare, dark eyes fixed on me like he’s deciding what kind of person I am. But the longer I stare back, the more I notice his body loosening bit by bit, so slight I might have missed it if I wasn’t watching him this closely.
“There you go. You’re a good boy.” I take another step and let my fingers brush the side of his face, already prepared to pull back if he gives me any sign I’ve pushed too far.
But he doesn’t bare his teeth or jerk away. Instead, he leans into my touch so willingly it steals a laugh out of me, his eyes growing gentler while his massive head angles for more.
Behind me, Blair makes a loud, incredulous sound. “Okay, no. I don’t like that. I really don’t like that.”
I run my palm along the strong line of his jaw before scratching gently behind his ear, and this time his tail gives a slow, almost hesitant wag.
“Don’t listen to her. She can be very dramatic.”
“I heard that.”
“That was the point.” I laugh just as another wag follows, a little stronger this time.
And then, to my complete shock, a low, needy whimper slips out of him that has my whole chest warming.
“Aww, just look at him now.” I give Blair a quick glance. “Tell me you don’t want to get some of this love.”
A sharp snicker comes from her. “No, thank you. And when his owner comes back, he might not like you being all up in his dog’s business. So if I were you, I’d back the hell up so we can go get some shopping done.”
“I’m sure his owner is just as sweet.” I scratch a bit harder, and he gets closer until his body brushes against my leg. “That was a yes, wasn’t it?”
His tail moves in slow, heavy sweeps, and before I can even process what he’s doing, he lowers himself to the sidewalk and rolls onto his back, one front paw folding toward his chest as he looks up at me with an expression so absurdly trusting it almost hurts.
That’s the thing about dogs: they love with their whole being and they don’t let go.
“Oh, you sweet baby.” Crouching the rest of the way down, I scratch his belly while my friend mutters something about being safe.
“Only you could get a scary-ass dog like that to bow to you. You really are an animal whisperer.”
That’s what they say. I’ve always had a connection to animals, even when I was little and Daddy would let me play with the calves and kids. They all grew attached to me, and I loved every second of it.
“He’s not scary at all.” I glance back at Blair before turning to him again, sliding my hand over the broad stretch of his stomach. “He’s just protecting himself. Aren’t you?”
He releases another soft whine, and one of his back legs gives a faint kick when I find the right spot.
I rub his belly while his tail thumps once against the pavement. “I knew you were just misunderstood.”
As I pet him some more, this strange sensation forms. The one I haven’t been able to shake for the past couple of weeks. The one that creeps over the back of my neck at the most random times and makes me question whether I’ve gone completely mad…or someone is watching me.
My fingers still against his fur as I peer over, scanning the street behind me. Cars pass, people move in and out of shops. Nothing looks off or stands out, yet the feeling refuses to leave.
Maybe I’m losing it. Wouldn’t that be fun?
I ignore the feeling, smoothing my hand over his stomach again.
“Thora!” Blair snaps. “Okay, seriously, I think you’ve made your point.”
“I’m fine,” I say, not even looking back at her. “You worry too much.”
“Yeah, well, someone has to when you’re out here making friends with—”
“Volchok.” A deep, raspy Russian voice cuts in, so sultry I shiver and pause mid-stroke.
I remain where I am, afraid to turn and face the stranger, though I have no idea why. When I feel him move in behind me, I swallow through the thickness in my throat while the heat of his body slides over mine as I get to full height.
“Do you always touch what isn’t yours?” The gruff way he says that sends a shudder through me.
As I whirl to face him, my eyes expand.
Because looking back at me is the same man who’s been haunting my dreams since the first night I saw him.
ANTON
I have no idea what this woman has done to my dog, or if I can undo it. I have spent years training him to be a killer, something people fear. And here he is on his back, getting belly rubs from the woman I’m supposed to kill.
This most definitely will not work, especially the way she’s staring at him like he’s her pet poodle. My fist curls as I stand inside the store where I was watching her like I’m supposed to.
Except I didn’t see this part coming. Sure, I know she’s a vet and all about her work at the farm with the petting zoo and the horses she rehabilitates. But I didn’t foresee her walking up to Volchok and treating him like her new project.
I need to fix this. Now.
I never intended to approach her. My job is to watch and know everything until the order comes. But the more she touches him, the more impatient I grow. She will ruin him until I have no use for him at all, and that would be a pity. He has kind of grown on me.
Fine, Thora Whitlock. Have it your way.
They don’t hear me approach, too invested in their conversation.
“I’m fine,” Thora tells her friend. “You worry too much.”
“Yeah, well, someone has to when you’re out here making friends with—”
“Volchok,” I say, ignoring the friend and marching up right behind her.
I wonder if she’ll recognize me. It hasn’t been long since my brother Kirill’s wedding a couple of weeks ago. Then again, we only looked at one another briefly, though I still have her photo burning in my pocket, her face etched into my subconscious until I saw her in my sleep.
Because that’s what I do when I’m given a job. I think of nothing else until it’s over. And that’s exactly what this is: a job.
I cage her in, and she still doesn’t face me. Her body rocks with quick, shallow inhales, like she’s afraid of me.
She should be. In more ways than one.
My hand lifts, one finger edging closer to her long brown waves. “Do you always touch what isn’t yours?”
She gasps just under her breath, and as she starts to turn, I pull away.
“Oh! Uh, I’m sorry. I…well…” Her cheeks flush as she faces me fully.
I almost laugh.
“You what?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Regularly approach animals that could kill you?”
“That’s what I said,” her friend interjects.
But I continue to pretend she doesn’t exist. It’s better that way for the both of us.
Thora’s eyes bulge as she glares at Blair.
“I’m sorry.” She returns her focus to me. “But I saw him tied up and wasn’t sure if he was alone or thirsty or, you know, abandoned.”
“Well, he’s not.” The brisk way I say that makes her jerk a bit, which is the reaction I was hoping for.
I move toward my dog, my forearm brushing past her, and she draws in a sharp breath.
Women. I don’t get them, and I don’t want to.
All I want is to get my dog away from her so he can go back to being who he has always been: unapproachable. One of the many things we have in common.
As I untie him, his tail wags, his face pushing up into her hand.
Forget what I said. We have nothing in common. In fact, maybe I’ll drop him off at the nearest shelter and find a new one.
But as I look at him, I groan.
Fine. I won’t do it. I’m stuck with this thing.
“Aww. I’m going to miss you too, Volchok,” she says, butchering his name.
But of course, he doesn’t mind. Nope, he eats it right up.
Pathetic. What is wrong with you? A minute with a pretty girl who rubs your belly and you forget your morals? Shameful. You’re no better than my brothers, marrying women they don’t know anything about.
Sometimes I wonder what the hell is wrong with them. Konstantin married a fed. Aleksei, a prosecutor. Kirill at least didn’t marry someone from the law, but she did try to steal from him, so he’s no better.
Thank God I will never have that problem. The best thing my father could’ve done for me was smash that bottle on my head when I was nine and leave me there to rot until I lost all ability to feel shit like this.
He saved me.
“Davay, Volchok.” Come on, little wolf.
I pull his leash, but he refuses to move, pressing his head into her until he’s practically grinning.
“Hvatit pozoritsya.” Stop embarrassing yourself.
“Maybe you can stay another minute.” She saunters up to him, crouching down, her big brown eyes practically begging me.
“No.” I pull him again. “We have things to do.”
Her full pink lips press together as she rises. “Yeah, I get it.” She shifts her weight, still uncomfortable around me. “You’re, uh…” Her fingers scratch her temple. “A Marinov, right? I remember you from the wedding.”
And there it is. My little target remembers me after all. I’m almost touched.
“I don’t know you. Who are you?”
Her face darkens, practically firing up with embarrassment.
“Thora.” She reaches out her hand. “Thora Whitlock.”
I simply stare at the shape of her small, delicate hand, wondering how many different ways I could break it. When she flinches and pulls her arm back, my eyes flick to her attractive face. I can see why my dog likes it.
“Yes. I know your family,” I tell her. “We’re not friends.”
Blair laughs from behind me.
Thora just shrugs. “You’d be surprised at the kind of people who can become friends, even when the circumstances are a bit tricky.
” Her lips snake up at the corner. “Life’s too short, you know?
Sometimes you’ve just gotta take the bull by the horns and find friends where you can, or you’ll end up alone. ”
“I don’t need friends. I like being alone.”
Her gaze sucks me in until there’s nowhere to go, making the world narrow somehow, but I brush the feeling away.
Far, far away.
“Everyone needs friends, Anton. Even you.”
“I don’t remember telling you my name.”
“You didn’t have to.” She struts back a step. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“Good to know. Now, if you’re done with my dog…” I grip the leash tighter, keeping a distance between them. “I’d like to go now.”
“All right.” Her grin widens. “I’ll see you around…friend.”
“You’re crazy, Thora Whitlock.”
She laughs. “A little crazy might do you some good.”
Then she turns, slides her arm through her friend’s, and doesn’t even look back while I track her all the way to her car, wondering what the hell just happened.