Russian Killer's Baby (3 page)

“Feliks!” she shouted as she came undone.

He marveled at the feel of her body climaxing around him. The silky warmth pushed him perilously close to the edge of control. Taking her hips in his hands, he began pumping furiously into her pussy. He fucked her as hard as he dared, and she met him thrust for thrust every time.

Her nails scored his shoulders, and he reveled in the violence of the moment. He watched her face as every muscle in her body prepared for another peak. Still he thrust deeper. He felt the burn of his own orgasm coiling in the muscles of his ass. Finally he could take no more. With a garbled shout of muddled Russian and English, he poured his seed deep into Annika’s welcoming warmth.

She flung her head back against the bed and screamed her own release as she came again and again around him. He was drunk on the sound of her gasps and cries. It was a moment he would never forget.

Rolling to his side, Feliks collapsed onto the thin mattress and panted as though he were about to pass out.

“Damn,” Annika murmured. “Thank you for
that
!”

He laughed. Just about the time he thought he might be figuring her out, she would do something else to surprise him. He tugged her close enough to put her head on his chest. The position was oddly satisfying. He wasn’t typically the cuddly sort. Annika was different. There was no weeping or whining, only the afterglow of spectacular sex.

“You need a bigger bed,” he told her with a grunt.

She poked him in the ribs. “No way. Then guys would think they had an invitation to stay over.”

“Oh I see, so this is a calculated move to maintain your independence?” He could appreciate that.

“Totally.”

“You’re an unusual woman, Annika.”

“And you’re the best lay I’ve had in years.”

Feliks wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “Meaning you frequently take men home for no strings attached sex?”

“Aw, are you
jealous
?”

“No.”

There was a long pause. He could actually feel her thoughts settling into a more serious pattern.

Finally she spoke, and there was no hint of laughter in her tone. “I have occasional one night stands. Yes. But I can say with certainty that being with you is an experience like nothing I’ve ever had before.”

His male pride was assuaged. Although he wasn’t sure why it mattered. In a few minutes he was going to fulfill the contract, and she would no longer have an opinion at all. And yet for some unfathomable reason he cared what she thought of him.

“And I don’t expect I’ll have another one like it,” she added. “You’re one of a kind, Feliks.”

“As are you.”

She gave a big lusty yawn. “Don’t forget to turn the lock on your way out.”

“Are you kicking me out?”

“No, but I’m totally about to go unconscious, so I thought it prudent to make that request.”

He gave her a little squeeze. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

There was no more noise other than the soft, rhythmic sounds of her breathing. Feliks stared down at her in the dim light. He lightly traced the strong features of her face with his fingertips. It was strange to think that he was trying to memorize her, this woman he was never going to see again.

He picked up his clothing and retreated to the bathroom. He dressed quickly. Avoiding the mirror, he delved into the pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a case full of hypodermic needles. One injection in the neck and Annika would fall asleep never to wake again.

There was a sudden pounding on the front door. Feliks pressed his back to the wall and put his hand on the 9mm beneath his coat. He heard Annika grumble as she got out of bed.

“Who is it?” she shouted.

Feliks couldn’t hold back a smile. The disgruntled tone of her voice would discourage even the bravest solicitors. He was going to have to wait another half hour or more for her to go back to sleep. First the club had been too crowded, and now her apartment was equally so. This contract was becoming a regular pain in his ass.

“It’s your father, Annika!”

Feliks froze. Vadir Polzin was here? That was rather inconvenient. Annika hadn’t known Feliks, but Vadir most certainly would.

“Go away!” she shouted. “I’m not letting your criminal ass into my apartment. I don’t want to see you.”

Their loud argument was the perfect cover up for Feliks’s escape. He shoved the case of hypos back in his jacket and turned a slow circle in the tiny bathroom. There was a ventilation shaft, but the window was far preferable.

He pulled the shade and flipped the latch. Fortunately, the fire escape was right there as a handy escape route. Feliks opened the window and got a face full of Boston’s cold night air. Then he thrust his foot through the opening and exited the apartment.

Annika and her father were still shouting inside the apartment. Feliks shut the window and walked away. Orlov would have to wait a little longer for satisfaction on this particular contract, but Feliks would finish the job and earn his place on the council. Of that he was certain.

Chapter Three

Five weeks later...

“I don’t care about your stupid businesses!” Annika shouted at her father. “You’re nothing but a crook, and I want you out of my building. Now.”

“Annika, princess,” her father coaxed. “Don’t be silly. I am your papa, yes?”

She slammed a pot down on the stove. She’d intended to cook herself something quick before running off to class. Then her father had shown up and derailed her carefully balanced schedule.

“Yes. You’re my father. But I sometimes think that was a calculated move on your part.”

“How so?” He looked affronted.

She eyed his rail thin appearance and sallow face. Her father often did not appear well, but how could the man be robust when he was constantly running from the authorities and Boston’s Russian mafia?

She turned the stove on and watched the burner flare to life. “You married my American born mother in Moscow just so you could come to the states.”

“Your mother died in Russia! I never came here with her.”

“No. You came with me. Once I was born there was no way the U.S. government could throw you out of their country,” she said bitterly.

He put his palm over his heart. “You wound me with your suspicion.”

“Really? Because I’d bet good money I don’t have that you’re here because you want something from me.”

“I need a message delivered to the FBI.” His tone was so beseeching that there were practically tears dripping off of it.

“Ha!” She cracked an egg into the pan and listened to it sizzle. “So you can’t deliver this missive yourself because you’re wanted by the Feds. Right?”

“This is a message that will clear up a little misunderstanding.”

The scent of the cooking egg suddenly turned sour in Annika’s nose. She gagged. Her stomach revolted, and she put her hand hastily over her mouth.

Vadir’s manner turned businesslike. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to be sick!”

She pushed past her father and ran to the bathroom. She made it to the toilet just in time. Gripping the porcelain’s edges, she vomited until there was nothing left to come up.

Groping for the handle, she flushed the contents of the toilet and sank to the floor in a heap. As with the last week and a half, she felt better after the brief bouts of violent sickness, though she was still overtired all the time and felt just slightly off.

“Are you all right?” Her father leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms.

“Fine.” She gave him a dirty look. “I’m pretty sure all of this illegal running around you want me to do is making me sick.”

He snorted, choosing to speak in Russian instead of English. “And I’m certain I recall what a woman looks and acts like when she’s in the family way.”

Annika froze. Could the crazy old man be right? She hadn’t even considered such a possibility until he’d mentioned it. Her brain immediately began scanning backwards to search for the last time she’d had her monthly cycle.

“Your expression says it’s a possibility,” he mused. “Who is it that I’ll have to murder for touching my daughter?”

“You don’t get to murder anyone. I’m a grown woman. I make my own choices.”

“Obviously,” he drawled. “But you need to get your ass up off the floor and take my message down to the FBI. Then you can deal with your own problems.”

She struggled to get to her feet, feeling faint and yet angrier than she could remember being in a long time. “I’m in the middle of dealing with personal issues, and you’re still more worried about getting my help with your stupid FBI problems!” She shoved her way past him. “Get out of my apartment and don’t come back. Seriously. I’m so sick of you using me for your shady business dealings. I’m done being your pawn.”

Vadir’s gaze narrowed, and Annika could feel the heat of his anger sizzling over her skin as though it were a physical thing. She didn’t care. She was tired of being part of his illegal dealings. He’d been using her as an accessory to his crimes since she was old enough to smile and look cute. She no longer cared about alienating her father. She wanted her life back.

He stalked toward the front door, glancing at her stove. “Your egg is burning.”

“So why didn’t you do something about it?” She dashed over and snatched the pan off the stove, shoving it into the sink where it smoked and hissed. “Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?”

“I just wanted to see you today, you know?” Vadir’s attitude turned supercilious.

“Why?”

He put his hand on the doorknob, preparing to leave. “The syndicate is gunning for me, princess. I’m almost sure they’ve sent an assassin.”

“And you came
here
? You didn’t think you might be putting me in danger?”

Something in his expression suggested a sense of regret. “I just wanted to see you, princess.”

“You’ve seen me. Now go.”

Annika watched him leave. It worried her a little that he seemed so certain the syndicate was coming for him. Yet at the moment her thoughts were consumed with her own impending drama. If her father’s musings were correct, she needed to pick up a few things at the drugstore and hope she didn’t make a discovery that would change her life forever.

Chapter Four

Annika awkwardly peed on the little white stick. She closed the plastic cap and set it on the bathroom counter. Then she got up and started pacing. She went into the main room of her little studio apartment and began making circuits of the futon. Every few seconds she glanced up at the clock to see how much time had passed. About the time the second hand had passed the twelve for the fifth time, someone knocked on her door.

“Seriously?” she muttered darkly. Then she realized that Wren must have come by. “I told you not to come over. I’m a little busy at the moment!”

Feeling irritated with her friend and not sure exactly what to say about the predicament she was in, Annika turned the knob expecting to see Wren’s familiar face. Instead the door exploded inward. Annika was thrown off her feet. She flung her arms out to try and catch her balance, cartwheeling backwards until she hit the futon.

Heavy bootsteps came through the entry, and then the door slammed shut. Scrambling to get off the futon and back on her feet, Annika couldn’t even see who it was. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and the sound of blood rushing through her ears was almost drowned out by the uneven rasp of her breath.

She rolled off the far side of the mattress and hit the floor. Every instinct in her body was screaming to run, but there was nowhere to go. What was she supposed to do? Try and make it to the fire escape?

Peeking around the edge of the futon’s thick wood frame, Annika craned her neck to see her attacker. “You!” Her heart nearly stopped, and she jumped reflexively to her feet. “What are you
doing
?”

Feliks didn’t even smile when he met her gaze. “I’m sorry, Annika.”

“Wait.” She edged toward the bathroom, the only place that might afford some sort of safety. “You’re here to kidnap me?”

His low chuckle made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. “I wish it were only that.”

“Murder me then?” She was starting to get more than a little pissed off. “Was that why you hit on me at the bar? You actually intended to kill me, but decided to fuck me instead?” Her tone grew harsh with outrage.

“No. What happened between us was pure coincidence.” An expression of remorse touched his face so briefly that she would have thought she imagined it had not one tiny sliver of warmth remained in the way he held his lips. His eyes were colder than the arctic. Then he shrugged with careless nonchalance. “I didn’t know who you were that night.”

Instinct told her he was lying. “And who am I? Why are you doing this?”

“Your father has pissed off the syndicate with his disrespectful behavior,” Feliks said blandly. “We cannot just look the other way when he ignores our rules. One of our council members was killed because of your father’s boldness.”

“So I’m going to die because my father is an imbecile?” Annika couldn’t begin to explain how ironic that was. “How is that fair?”

“It really isn’t,” he murmured. “But the decision was utterly out of my hands.”

She planted her feet, ready to make a bid for the bathroom and safety. “Out of your hands? You’re here to kill me! My life is very much in your hands.”

With those words she sprinted for the bathroom. It was only ten feet or so. Feliks was standing on the opposite side of the apartment. She grabbed the door and slammed it shut just as soon as she made it inside. She heard him just a few steps behind her, cursing in Russian.

“You cannot hide in there forever. I never took you for a coward.”

“I’m not.” His accusation annoyed her. “And I defy anyone who says I am. I’m a survivor.”

“Yes?” He sounded almost amused. What kind of man would play with her like this? It was sick. “And what tools for your survival are in your bathroom?”

Her gaze darted around the tiny, closet-like space before settling on the pregnancy test. She snatched up the box and checked the key. Then she picked up the stick.