Nikolay’s story, Found is now available!
Tatyana is the unluckiest woman on the planet. She never wins anything.
Everyone she touches ends up dead. She wakes up one morning engaged to the crown
prince of a Russian crime family. This will be a temporary engagement
as she’s touched Nikolay Kaerta, all over, condemning him to death.
Tatyana knows his handsome face, arrogant attitude, and fast gun hand
won’t save him.
Nik isn’t worried about dying. He’s worried about killing the brat he’s
engaged to. All he wants is respect. Is that too much to ask for?
Apparently it is… especially from a saucy bad luck charm with curves
that could tempt the Godfather himself. Only when he finds the killer
tracking the brat will Nik set her free and return to his relatively
peaceful life of crime.
Nik shuffled his favorite pack of cards as the car drew up, Maggy requesting both the use of the casino’s private entrance and an emergency meeting with Grandfather. That combination reeked of trouble, which was the reason for Pavel’s burly presence behind him.
Nik split the deck. The Queen of Hearts. He’d pulled that card all night.
“Nikolay.” He tucked the cards back in his inside jacket pocket as Maggy bounced out of the passenger seat.
“Maggy.” They embraced briefly, air kissing cheeks. Maggy preferred not to be touched. Despite that foible, Nik liked Maggy very much. There was even a time he considered her for a wife as she was the only woman he knew with the balls to stand up to Grandfather. Respect, in Nik’s mind, was very close to love.
He waited impatiently while she greeted Pavel, his number one man. The two exchanged niceties, irritating Nik. This wasn’t a social visit. It shouldn’t be treated as one.
Domi, Maggy’s bodyguard, positioned himself by the rear of the car. He looked especially grim. “Who did you bring with you, Maggy?” Nik broke into the conversation.
“I need to see Sergei.”
Why didn’t she answer? “I know that.” Was it a dead body to be disposed of? It shouldn’t have been brought to the casino. Nik opened the back door.
“Nikolay, no,” Maggy squeaked.
He peered inside. Nothing. A pile of clothes in the back. No. The clothes moved. Long frizzy brown hair. A small, curled up body. A child. “No kids in the casino, Maggy.”
“She’s not a kid.” His friend stood close behind him.
A girl, then. Now awake. Her head rose. “Are we there?” She swept back the mass of crazy hair, stretched upward, the layers of fabric falling away, revealing a flat pale stomach.
Nik’s body stirred inappropriately. She was a girl. A girl. Disgusted with himself, he turned away, letting Maggy handle the situation.
“What is it, boss?” Pavel asked.
“A scared little girl.” What did Maggy expect them to do with her? They weren’t running a daycare.
“That’s no little girl.” Pavel’s jaw slackened.
Nik pivoted on his heels. His number one man was right. That was no little girl. Although tiny, the frizzy haired creature leaning back on the car was a woman, the bloodstained cotton pajamas clinging to her curves, her nipples pointed, hard.
As he was fast becoming. He forced his eyes to her face. She wasn’t pretty, not by Vegas standards, but there was fight and determination in that chin. “Who is she?”
“Someone you’re better off not knowing.” Dark eyes flashed. “I was to go to the hotel, straight to the hotel, that was the deal.” The woman’s attention was back on Maggy, ignoring Nik.
Nik didn’t like that. He deserved deference, respect, fear. Couldn’t she see that? He moved toward her.
“You need protection,” Maggy insisted.
“No, you need protection. I tried to warn you. I tried to be nice. But you don’t listen. You don’t know who I am, what you’re dealing with.” Brown eyes, Nik was close enough to see the color now.
“And what is your problem?” the girl-woman snapped at him.
No deference, no respect, no fear. “Mind your manners, Brat.”
No one spoke to him like that. A blaze of red hot rage and his mouth was on her, biting her soft skin with lip-covered teeth where her neck met her shoulders.
“You bastard.” She swung.
He caught her wrist before her palm made impact. “You will behave,” he warned her. They stared at each other. He was wrong. Her eyes weren’t brown. They were green. But not poker table green like Maggy’s, but a muddy green.
“My name is not Tanya.” She whirled on Maggy, bristling with emotion. “My name is Tatyana, Tatyana, get it straight.”