20. Nik

20

Victory has never tasted so bitter.

During my thirty-four years on this planet, I've learned a thing or two about bittersweet wins. I have had more than my fair share of triumphs that have come at a hefty price.

I'm happy I've beaten Kat in her manipulative game, but I can't say I feel any sense of satisfaction. There's no joy in this achievement—just a deep, unshakable feeling of foreboding. Even though I've won this battle, the war between us is far from over. She will keep trying to control me through my foolish, irresponsible attraction to her. And I'm not so sure I have it in me to win the next round.

To make matters even worse, I can now add sexual frustration to the emotional cocktail brewing inside of me. After all, Kat was the only one who found release. She came so hard she is now as soft as a kitten in my arms, every muscle in her body blissfully relaxed. Deep, content sighs have replaced her erratic panting from earlier, and she's the picture of satisfaction and satiety.

While I can't deny I'm very proud of myself for pleasing her, Kat's obvious sexual contentment is a poignant reminder of my almost painful state of non-fulfillment.

Unfortunately, this isn't a problem I am likely to fix soon. In the last twenty-four hours, Kat has made it abundantly clear—she fully intends to have me eating out of the palm of her hand by seducing me. And God damn her, she just might succeed.

If our brief history is any indication, resisting her isn't something that comes to me naturally.

If our circumstances were any different, I'd love nothing more than to let her try—her secretive, untrustworthy ways be damned. But as things stand, it would be a development I can't afford right now. So resist her I must. Somehow.

I don't know how to accomplish this still unprecedented feat, but at least I have the common sense to realize that giving in to my insatiable desire for her isn't the answer, which brings me to my current unfortunate—and physically painful—situation.

It's all well and good to turn the tables on her and give her a little taste of her own medicine, as I did a moment ago. Kat wanted me to submit to her, to beg her to satiate the desperate craving her merciless teasing brought on. But I managed to get the upper hand. In the end, the little thief surrendered to me.

For now.

That's why I can't let Kat return the favor even if she were to offer. The woman isn't giving up on this reckless scheme of hers. I have no doubts she'll continue to try to bend me to her will, and I can't afford the risk that she might succeed. I need to keep my wits about me if my plans are to work out.

To obliterate McGuire, I need to be fully in charge of myself and those I have enlisted to help me. That includes Kat. I can't very well control her or myself if she manages to wrap me around her little finger.

Of course, I'd love to sink deep inside her again or feel her clever little hands—and her maddening mouth—on me, but it just can't happen. I'm not confident about my odds of resisting her. On the contrary, Kat is perfectly capable of succeeding in her devious plan. Unfortunately, I'm not convinced I can get her to stop trying. Threats haven't worked, and retribution hasn't either.

I'm toeing a dangerous line. Kat is only helping me with my plans for McGuire because I have leverage over her. If she realizes how unlikely it is that I would ever cause her pain, my leverage is gone. I may be a fool as far as she's concerned, but I'm not stupid enough to believe she'll stick around and help me unless I have something to hold over her head.

The conclusion is simple, although unfortunate. I have to keep myself in check. I have to deny myself the pleasures I know are to be found in her arms because I'm not strong enough to resist her attempts to control me.

Kat lets out another content sigh, a small smile curving her lips as she stretches out her body. "Mmm. Just what the doctor ordered," she says. "Your turn now."

The little thief wraps her arms around my neck, rubbing her plump ass against my cock. In my current starved state, I barely manage to stifle a groan. Untangling her arms from around my neck, I lift her by the waist and set her down next to me. She's still close enough that I can smell her delicious scent, but at least we aren't touching anymore.

"What's the matter?" she asks, an amused glint in her deep blue eyes.

"We should go back to work," I say, glancing at the surveillance footage on the screen.

Kat blinks twice, her smile faltering slightly. After a brief pause, a calculating look shines in her eyes as her lips curve sensuously. She leans forward and hooks her index finger over the collar of my sweater, pulling me closer until my breath mingles with hers and her nose brushes against mine.

"We can work later. Let me take care of you now," she says. Her soft, lush lips deliciously brush against the corner of my mouth.

Somehow, I find the strength to deny her. "I appreciate the offer, Kat, but there's no need to trouble yourself on my account. I'm good."

Her other hand boldly caresses the uncomfortable bulge straining against my jeans. An erratic breath escapes me, and yet, I curb the urge to moan at her touch. "Liar," Kat says, chuckling against my mouth before running the tip of her tongue along the seam of my lips. "You want me."

Her gaze rushes to connect with mine as if daring me to deny it.

I can't. I don't.

I stare back at her in silence.

"It's okay, Nik," she says, looking into my eyes. "You made me feel so good just now. Let me return the favor. There's no reason to deny us what we want so badly."

Kat slowly rubs me up and down over my jeans, right where I need her the most, while wrapping her other hand around the back of my neck. Her fingernails lightly scratch me there before she tangles her hand in my hair. A shiver runs down my spine. "There are plenty of reasons," I mutter through gritted teeth.

"Well, no good ones," she says.

I laugh at her humorlessly, and she narrows her eyes at me.

"I know you want me, Nik. Will you deny it?"

I sigh.

"No. But that doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean I've forgotten who you are and what you have done. It certainly doesn't mean I'm going to let you control me through my sexual attraction to you."

Kat smiles prettily. "You can't blame a girl for trying."

"No, but I sure can wish she'd stop."

"I don't think you do. I think you like it when I try to seduce you. Actually, I think you love it."

She winks at me. As fast as a whip, she lurches forward, kissing me.

A delicious sigh leaves her lips. Before it's too late, I grab her shoulders and push her away. Unwilling to give her any other opportunities to test my self-restraint, I get up and sit as far away from her as possible, on the opposite side of the couch. I half expect her to follow me right away. She doesn't. Instead, she laughs.

"Back to the footage," I say in my most disapproving tone.

"All work and no play will make you a very dull boy, Nik," she says with another laugh, leaning back on the couch.

"We have all the time in the world to play later. Once the work is done."

Glancing at the TV, I'm reminded of why I'm in this situation in the first place. Maxim's face flashes in my mind as he looked the last time I saw him. He looked so lifeless, his skin shaded by a faint blue tint, his neck marred by the angry ligature marks. It's a sobering memory.

Kat opens her maddening mouth to speak, a playful, flirty light shining in her ocean-blue eyes.

"Kat—" I say, cutting her off before she can suggest anything. "I meant what I said earlier. I hope you won't hate working for me too much, but make no mistake—this job comes first before anything else. It's the only thing that matters to me right now. I won't let you or anyone else keep me from seeing it through."

Frustratingly, I feel a pang in my chest as that teasing look leaves her expression.

"I understand, Nik. And I will help you as best as I can. I promise. But there's no need for things to be so black and white. We can work and let off some steam whenever needed. I can't imagine how much pressure you must be under right now. Why not let me help you with that as well?"

I dare a glance in her direction. The maddening woman is smiling coyly at me.

I sigh again before sternly saying, "We are not going down this path, Kat. And that's my final word on this subject."

"We'll see about that."

I let her challenging reply slide, hoping it will be the end of this subject. Deep down, however, I have a feeling that's nothing but wishful thinking on my part.

I keep my eyes glued to the screen as past Kat discreetly leaves the room where she gave me the most fantastic fuck I've had in years. Maybe ever. Even then, she was already playing games with me. While I was dying to get another chance to have her in my arms, the little thief's only concern had been to disappear with my most valuable possession.

"I've been curious. What made you get into this line of work in the first place?" I ask.

Kat raises her eyebrows. "I'm surprised you even have to ask," she says. "Surely a big, bad bratva pakhan such as yourself would have learned all there is to know about me by now."

I scoff. "I'd never be stupid enough to fool myself into thinking that."

She smiles. "Well, be it as it may, I'm positive you looked me up. I wouldn't be surprised to find a file on me somewhere in this room."

"Maybe. I know you were an orphan for most of your childhood. You were adopted later, during your teen years. And I learned of your stellar reputation as one of the best in your field."

"The best," she corrects me sharply.

I smirk, pleased she took the bait. "Perhaps. But none of that tells me why you chose this…lifestyle. Not all orphans become part of the criminal underworld's elite. So why did you?"

She remains silent for a long moment. Eventually, she says, "I knew I'd be good at it. It seemed foolish not to pursue what I knew I would excel at. And truth be told, I was tired of hoping, wishing, and praying for things that were never offered to me. If no one was going to give me anything, then I was going to take it myself. What can I say? I like the finer things in life." She shrugs. "I was so done with feeling helpless—powerless, victimized. So tired of being at the mercy of others and unable to take care of those I care about."

Dumbstruck, I stare at her, long after she is done talking. I thought she'd brush me off, giving me a non-answer. Whatever I expected her to say in response to my question, it wasn't this heartfelt statement. For a moment, I struggle to reconcile this vulnerable, caring side of her with the untrustworthy woman I've learned she can be.

If anyone can understand what it is like to be utterly alone and have to fend for yourself at a young age, that would be me.

I study her in a way I haven't yet. As always, I see her beautifully wrought face and perfectly sculpted body, but for the first time, I also see her delicate hands and athletic but diminutive build. At fifteen, I probably already outweighed her by at least fifty pounds.

As a child in a similar situation to hers, being alone was always a scary and dangerous experience for me. I can only imagine what it had been like for a creature as fragile as her. I shudder just thinking about it. And to think she somehow found it in herself to worry about others and protect them.

As I unabashedly study her—this confusing, intriguing woman who has turned my orderly life upside down—I can't help but wonder who is taking care of her while she's busy looking out for others. I can't help but wish it could be me.

"That's the guy from last night," she says, interrupting my reverie, blissfully unaware of it.

I glance at the screen and see Vladmir approaching me through the museum gala's guests. It's a much-welcome reminder of why we are here.

Maxim.

The man I failed to protect.

"That's Vladmir Smirnov. He works for me."

"I figured that much."

"He's approaching me to take me to Maxim."

"Oh," she says, straightening. "He came from inside the museum."

"Yes." I clear my throat. "That's where they found the body."

"I see. Where?"

"The room had been closed to the public that evening. It was in the area where they hold their Italian Masters exhibition."

"I know where."

We watch the footage for a few moments longer. Vladmir and I disappear from the frame. Patrick McGuire can be seen the entire time. The Irish bastard is clever like that.

Once the surveillance video ends, Kat turns to me. "I'm sorry." I nod in response.

After a moment, she says, "And you think Patrick McGuire is behind the murder."

"I know he is."

"Sorry, I hate to ask—but how did Maxim die?"

"I believe he was strangled to death. A ligature strangulation. They used a garrote, I'd guess. "

Kat nods for a second, a solemn look on her face. Suddenly, she frowns. "What do you mean, you believe?"

I sigh. I had a feeling she'd catch that.

"Maxim's body…it's missing."