An Obsession with Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 3) (18 page)

“Uh, I can . . . come back if you’re busy?” he heard Micha say slowly.

Maks spun his chair to face the intruder, who was standing with one foot still on the stairs leading to the basement, eyebrows raised.

“I was having a private moment with my cock. Do you fucking mind?”

“Nope. Do it all the time, brother.” He came the rest of the way up and pulled the trapdoor closed before strolling for the door. “Our friend is sedated. Won’t be up until late evening. I’ll take care of the other one then, too. Meet you outside.” He walked out and down the hall. Maks heard the outer door slam shut, the system beeping as it reengaged.

“Shit,” he said into the silence, feeling like an ass. He took his phone out and texted his whipping boy.

My apologies.

A reply was almost instant.

Not needed.

It didn’t take long for Maksim to accept it. He’d learned long ago not to fight shit for nothing—probably why he’d excelled at the Academy. It was simply easier, and smarter, to go with the flow. Get what he could out of the done deal and bail when it was all over. Right now? With his Aussie? He was done. He wanted her. Only her. For now anyway. He was roped until he got what he needed from her. How long would it take to be satisfied? Who knew? Didn’t really care at this point. Just wanted to get there. Get this job out of the way so he could reach the place where he could show up at her club, throw open the door to her office, and yell at her for being cooped up with some bouncer she was interviewing, freaking on her beautiful ass because he was jealous, thinking she’d fucked the guy . . .

His face screwed up in confusion. That had come out all wrong, but whatever. He took out his phone and requested updates from the boys stationed outside Apetito. This roadblock had to be taken care of, and then the good times would roll.

The reply was frustrating.

Nothing yet.

His phone went off again almost immediately—a call this time—and he answered.

“How’d it go?” Vasily asked.

“Had to put one down in order to concentrate on the other,” he said. “I’m sending him back to his boss at nightfall.” As he talked, he typed. He needed detailed information guaranteed to wake Luiz Morales the fuck up.

“Good. Alek is needed elsewhere. Are you going back to the safe house to relieve him soon?”

“Yeah. In a few minutes.”

“Micha’s with you?”

“He’s outside waiting for me to finish up.”

“Okay. Take separate vehicles. Bring a laptop and do what you have to do once there. Have Micha stop somewhere to pick up a few things for Sydney. She’ll no doubt be wishing for a change of clothes by now.” He paused, and Maks could hear murmuring in the background. “Eva said to make sure he gets her underthings and something comfortable to sleep in,” he added dryly.

Maks had to smile at the details only a woman would bother with. His humor fled when he pictured Micha standing in Victoria’s Secret choosing panties and a bra for
his
Aussie, wondering what would fit her tiny body, what colors would set off her tawny skin.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I’ll let him know.”

“Tell Alek to call me when he’s leaving.”

“Will do.” He hung up and grabbed a laptop before leaving. Once in the alley, Micha looked at him with a small smirk playing over his features. Until Maks gave him his instructions. His detailed instructions.

“Take your car and find a mall, one with a Victoria’s Secret. Get a couple of everything, all of it in white, panties, bras—garter and stockings if you want to chance a slap—yoga pants and T-shirts. Don’t forget socks and something she can sleep in. Who wears shit to bed? And grab a pair of sneakers, also in white, if they have any. Don’t go near the UGGs or I’ll beat you with them. And see if they’ll sell you a pair of those wings.” He had to raise his voice because Micha was already stalking away.

“I’m sensing a theme here, you weird bastard,” he threw back as he slammed into his Aston Martin to peel out of the alley.

Yeah.
The theme was to make Sydney as untouchable as possible. Hence the religious undertone and virginal white he’d requested.

He should have told Micha to pick up the UGGs after all. And a Snuggie. Together, the train wreck would guarantee he stayed away.

He pictured Sydney cuddled into the corner of the sofa wearing the ugly items and got a hard on.

Or maybe not.

CHAPTER 10

After rising from the very edge of a bloodred velour chaise longue, Sydney resumed her pacing. She was strung out, and she was pretty sure the Tylenol she’d taken shortly after arriving was wearing off already, because her temples were starting to pound in time with her heartbeat. As was her cheek and back. After Maksim had stormed out, the day had actually moved along quite pleasantly. Whereas Maksim was irreverent and antagonistic, Alek was the opposite. He was laid-back and composed, and he soon put her at ease. They’d spent some time playing on the Xbox One, and there had been only one awkward moment when he’d asked why she was so good. She’d balked and had blamed an ex-boyfriend rather than tell him about Andrew. Somehow she knew that telling Alek about her son before she told Maksim would be a big no-no. It wouldn’t be wise to offend the man saving her skin.

About an hour ago, Alek had had some work delivered from his office by a relaxed-looking man he’d introduced as Markus Fane. Related to Lucian and Gheorghe? She’d wondered but hadn’t asked.

More or less left to her own devices, that’s when Sydney had started to worry. She’d tried to distract herself by calling Jerome to make sure he’d gotten a hold of everyone. He had, and had then made her cringe by telling her he’d seen the story of the explosion on the news. As she’d hung up, she could have sworn she heard Emily’s voice in her mind.
Publicity is publicity
, her friend would have said, which made Sydney smile a little around her nausea.

As the sky darkened outside the balcony doors, so did her mood. She sighed in a loud burst, glancing at Alek when he looked over.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I’m not used to doing nothing. I don’t think I’ve had nothing to do since I was seventeen years old. I’m either busy with the club or my so—” She caught herself from saying
son
at the last second. “Social life,” she muttered, looking away.

“Yeah. I can imagine you must have a full calendar.”

She hid a grimace. Now he thought she was conceited.

“You can put some music on or watch TV, if you’d like. It won’t bother me.”

She began twisting her hair around her finger. “That’s okay. My bouncer said we made the news, so I’ll pass. And my choice in music right now would likely make you want to hop out the window.”

He chuckled and placed his pen down on the stack of papers in front of him. “What would you choose right now?”

She shrugged. “I listened to a lot of classical growing up,” she admitted. “Despite my childhood being less than stellar, it still makes me feel good to hear it. But rather than my favorites—Debussy, Bach, or Tchaikovsky—I’d go with Rachmaninoff. His pieces are very intense, and normally I find them disturbing, but I wouldn’t right now.” She chuckled. “I can’t listen to Mozart and Vivaldi without seeing Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd. That’s all my—mother allowed me to watch growing up.”

Thank God she was planning on telling Maksim about Andrew, because it seemed anything she talked about she was tripping over herself not to include his name. She hadn’t realized she spoke of him so often.

“Beethoven’s
Moonlight
Sonata is my go-to when I’m crawling out of my skin.”

She glanced back at the very personal revelation, and looked a little deeper into the man she’d spent the afternoon with. Aside from being David Beckham handsome, there was something about him that came across as tragically sad.

“Is that often?”

“You described your childhood as being ‘less than stellar’?” he said without answering her. “Nothing too tragic, I hope.”

Of course he’d latched on to that. Not much got by these tight-lipped guys. “No. Just the usual rich-kid complaints.”

“Your family is wealthy?”

She nodded, offering nothing else.

“Nice-house wealthy or something more?”

Grr.
“More.”

“I can see that in the way you carry yourself. It might come across as snobby to someone like Maksim, but most of us would see it as good breeding. He’s a little rough around the edges, so try not to give him too hard a time, okay? Where did your family’s wealth stem from?”

Despite his easy tone, Sydney couldn’t help but feel she’d been delivered a warning. “Oh, um, mining,” she answered distractedly. Why would Alek think he needed to warn her off? He’d spoken as though Maksim were fragile when
he
was the dangerous one.

Alek’s phone began ringing, and he gave her an apologetic look before answering it. She left him to it by grabbing her purse and making her way to the spacious sea-green-and-white bathroom. While there, she did her business, washed her face and hands, and gave in and called Andrew for the third time. She made it quick, not wanting to smother him but still needing to know he really was okay. She wanted to cry when he told her he already had a bruise on his hip, but she didn’t because he sounded proud of it. When she came back out, Alek was off the phone but engrossed in his work, so she settled into her own head again.

She wondered if they had a workout room in the building. That would be one way to kill an hour—if she could move around her growing aches. Or she could take a walk to Starbucks. There had to be one around here—if she was allowed out.

She looked at Alek again and knew this safe house business was going to drive her up the wall. But what choice did she have until this situation she’d created was resolved?

Too young to die.

And it was back. The thought she’d been trying to ignore all afternoon. A thought that had more to do with Andrew than herself. She was doing whatever she could to avoid going to jail and leaving her boy to grow up without her. But, today, Luiz Morales had nearly made it much worse. Much more permanent. At least if she were behind bars, she could still write to Andrew, see him on occasion, until she was released. Had she left the loft this morning without her son, rushing as she normally did, that steel door wouldn’t have been there to protect her from the blast. She’d have gone through it, spoken about the weather with Maksim’s guards, and then unlocked her car.

And she’d be dead. Andrew alone, with no one to love and care for him. He could have ended up dead, too, had they done even one thing different.

Sydney swallowed the thickness in her throat and rubbed at her temples. He should have more in his life than just her. She should have settled down. For him, she should have found a man she could get along with and married him. Had another child. That way, if something happened to her, Andrew would have a family to turn to.

But here she was, trying to do it all on her own. Playing the man and woman of the house.

She wilted some more. When had she cut herself off so absolutely? After Emily’s death or before? Because, as she’d thought earlier, there wouldn’t be many people who would miss her if she died. Sure, her staff would be sad for a day or two, and Andrew’s friends’ parents would gasp and shake their heads. But aside from her son, her death wouldn’t really impact anyone. She’d left home but had taken her family’s suspicious, don’t-trust-anybody-they-only-want-you-for-your-money outlook with her. Maybe she should see a shrink.

And speaking of head cases, where was Maksim? He’d been gone for hours. Had he learned anything about where and when Luiz’s men had planted the bomb in her car?

The sound of the apartment door opening and then slamming shut had her whirling away from a painting depicting a Paris street in the rain that she’d ended up in front of. Alek raised his head from his paperwork. With each heavy step of a dress shoe hitting the tile, Sydney’s lower belly tightened.

Until Maksim came into view, and the air released from her lungs in a hot rush.

I shouldn’t feel like this when I see him. I shouldn’t.

That didn’t stop her entire body from singing as she went forward to meet him. She rubbed her suddenly damp palms down the front of her jeans and tried to greet him as normally as she could. But the “hi” that was on the tip of her tongue never made it out. Not after the black glare he aimed at her as he continued on into the kitchen area.

“Call your uncle,” he threw to Alek as he thumped a bag down onto the granite countertop and began taking things out of it. Fruit, cheese, those fancy thin crackers everyone loved, a container of what looked to be . . . tuna salad?

She looked to Alek, but he just shrugged and shook his head as if to say “ignore him” before picking up his phone.
Helpful
, she thought as she inched her way to the kitchen.
And impossible.
She cleared her throat. She wasn’t familiar with this side of her Russian. Sulky? Brooding? And she didn’t mind admitting it made her uneasy. She preferred his irreverent come-ons to this cold shoulder. What was bothering him?

“I’ll put this away, if you’d like,” she offered, shelving all thoughts of telling him about Andrew until he seemed more receptive.

He stood back immediately and waved at her to have at it.

O-kay.
If it was that bad, he should just get it off his chest instead of acting like a child. Taking the large ball of white cheese with the tag hanging off it by a string, she opened the fridge and placed it in the middle drawer.

“Everything okay?” she tried.

“It’s getting there.”

After the clipped answer, he remained smack-dab in the center of the kitchen so that she was forced to step around him to reach the groceries again. And then circle him to get to the sink. She opened a couple of cupboards until she found a stainless-steel bowl she could fill with water, her nerves drawing tight at the feel of his eyes on her. After taking the grapes from their bag, she submerged them and left them to soak. Once again stepping around him, she twisted her mouth and nudged his rock-hard abs with her elbow on her way by.

“Stop sulking.”

He made a surprised sound deep in his throat. “What?”

She gave him a look. “You’re glowering at me like I stepped on your sand castle. Snap out of it. If something’s on your mind, just say it.”

“It would be very inappropriate to say what was on my mind right now, lover.”

His honesty should have unnerved her, which was probably his plan. But it didn’t, because she wouldn’t let it. She took the crackers, continuing her back-and-forth, and went around him to place them next to the fridge. “Never stopped you before.” Thank God Alek was too far away to hear this ridiculous conversation.

“Oh? Do you miss hearing about how badly I want you under me, Australia?” he inquired as she reached for the final items.

And down went the container of tuna salad. It hit the floor and twirled for a moment before coming to a stop. She squatted quickly, cursing her madly beating heart, and snatched it back up, thankful the lid had been secure and the contents hadn’t spilled.

“Dream on,” she scoffed when she straightened, feeling strangely comforted by the familiarity of their banter. Was he right? Could she have actually missed this?

“Oh, I do. In fact, that’s all I’ve been doing lately,” he growled, stepping toward her.

She went around him. “Well, that’s not surprising. They do say opposites attract, and since I’m hot, honest, and cultured . . .” She shrugged and flashed him a saccharine smile before yanking open the fridge and placing the salad on a shelf, glad he couldn’t see the tremor in her arm.

Covering her fingers on the handle, he forcefully shoved the door so he could see her again. The bottles of condiments on it rattled, but he closed it rather quietly. He seemed almost amused—
almost
.

“I dream of what you’ll taste like. What you’ll feel like when I finally have you. If you’re wild and loud. Or quiet and affectionate. I dream about giving you orgasm after orgasm as you scream my name and tear my back to shreds with those nails.”

How was she not moaning and begging him to begin?

Because I have more respect for myself than to be known as another of the Russian’s conquests.

“Keep dreaming then, because that’s the only place you’re going to find out . . . those things.” Her hesitation ruined the delivery, but she didn’t care.

His eyes falling to half-mast, Maksim bent slightly, tightening his hold when she tried to pull her hand free so she could bolt. His body dwarfed hers, and the scent clinging to him had her wanting to lick him like a lollipop.

“I’m tired of all of this fucking around. Reassure me that we’ll happen once Morales is dealt with.”

Gulping, she forced out, “No.”

“Reassure me right now, Australia,” he repeated in that low, sexy voice that had her core pulsing.

She shook her head, not trusting herself enough to attempt anything else.

His jaw rolled beneath his precisely trimmed goatee. “No guarantees, huh? I suppose I could always have my curiosity about you assuaged by asking someone else who’s had you.” His sensuous lips turned down in a severe frown, as though the thought displeased him.

She nearly laughed. “Good luck with that.”

Interest piqued in his expression. “Why ‘good luck’?”

“Because you’ll have a hell of time finding—”
someone I’ve had sex with
. Yeah, like she was really going to admit that to
this
man. “Anyone who’ll talk,” she finished lamely, keeping her voice quiet despite the distance between them and Alek, who was again on the phone. For spite, she added breezily, “My men have more class than that.”

His eyes narrowed to slits, molten fire blazing in their depths. “Your
men
?”

Score one for her. Didn’t feel so good to know there were many more besides him, did it? Not that three were many, but he didn’t know that. “Yes. The ones who know how vocal I am when they’re inside me.” She jerked her arm and slipped free of his hold, tacking on, “The ones who know what kind of kink I like. Alek,” she called, noting he’d hung up from his call, “are you hungry?” She tore her gaze from Maksim’s and turned to see his friend coming over. Which had been her intention.

“No, I’m good. I have to go,” he said, making her stomach drop. He was leaving her alone with Maksim? But he couldn’t! Not now that she’d poked the bear! “I have to stop by the office before I meet up with Vasily.”