Chapter Two

S aint pinched the bridge of his nose, clenched his jaw and reached into his leather jacket for his pack of cigarettes. Mia Carlisle was driving him up the fucking wall. She hadn’t stopped babbling since the moment he tossed her into the SUV. Currently, his patience was razor-thin and he desperately needed the soothing nicotine before he did or said something he’d later regret.

Like toss her ass out the window.

He plucked a cigarette out, stuck it in his mouth and used his trusty lighter to ignite the end. Inhaling deeply, he rationalized smoking in the car to preserve his sanity now was worth the ass-chewing he’d get from Braxton later.

“Are you smoking?” she demanded from the back seat, sounding completely appalled. She began waving her hands back and forth through the air. “Eww. That’s the most disgusting habit.”

Gritting his teeth, Saint took another pull, turned his head toward his annoying companion, and blew the smoke out the corner of his mouth toward the backseat. Mia coughed dramatically and he smirked as he caught her grimace in the rear view mirror.

“Are you always this uptight?” he asked right back. In the twenty minutes they’d spent together in the car, he’d quickly pegged Mia Carlisle as a daddy’s girl. Of course Chadwick Carlisle, a major player in The Agency—the group of evil people who Saint and his team had vowed to destroy—would have a spoiled brat for a daughter.

“Just because I don’t like smelling like a nasty ashtray doesn’t make me uptight.”

Saint merely grunted in response. Yep, fucking little spoiled-rotten princess. Whatever. She was the daughter of his enemy and he had a feeling she was going to be very useful in the near future. Hence, the kidnapping. Carlisle would probably do whatever it took to get his little girl back unharmed, and Saint liked holding that ace.

Right now, though, he needed to find a place to lay low because he certainly couldn’t take Goldilocks back to the warehouse where his team was living. Brax would blow his carefully-controlled cork at Saint’s unorthodox methods. No, he needed to spirit her away somewhere private where he could interrogate her without interruption or interference. A place where he could intimidate her and wear her down. There was no telling what she knew, or how she might be useful to his team and their quest to destroy The Agency.

“Can you at least crack a window?” she asked.

“Hold your breath.”

Grabbing his phone, he pulled up an old acquaintance who owed him a favor. Even though it was late, Saint knew the man would answer. And, after one ring, he did.

“Slater,” a deep, velvety voice said. Despite it being after midnight, the man sounded wide awake.

Saint purposely kept Dash Slater off speaker to avoid comments from the peanut gallery. “It’s Nik,” he said, exhaling another trail of smoke. “I need a favor.”

Dash Slater, former Delta Force, had led a tier-one counterterrorism unit for fifteen years. Now he ran Slater Security, a private firm with a highly competent crew who specialized in protection, defense and surveillance. He’d also fallen in love, gotten married and welcomed a son with his wife Lake not long ago.

“I figured this call would come sooner or later after you helped me in Russia,” Dash said. “What do you need?”

“A safehouse. I’m in San Francisco.”

“Who’re you talking to?” Mia asked, moving up between the seats, but Saint ignored her.

“There’s a loft in Chinatown you can use,” Dash said and rattled off the address.

Mia leaned in closer, raising her voice. “Does your friend know you kidnapped someone?”

“Who’d you kidnap?” Dash asked without missing a beat, amusement lacing his voice. “She sounds more annoyed than upset.”

Saint turned and blew smoke directly in her face. He figured it was the quickest way to shut her up and get her to move back, but he was wrong. Instead, she reached over, boldly grabbed the cigarette and plucked it out of his mouth.

“Hey,” he growled.

“You shouldn’t smoke. It’s bad for you,” she admonished him as she put the burning butt out on the bottom of her shoe.

Saint was impressed and, quite honestly, a little turned-on. First off, no one ever dared to tell him what to do or had the nerve to physically remove the offending object from his mouth. And second, no one had ever shown concern for his health.

Not that she actually cared. She didn’t even know him.

Still though. He cracked the window for her, allowing some fresh air to circulate.

“She’s right,” Dash agreed. “You really should quit.”

What? Now everyone suddenly cared about his health? Saint turned toward Chinatown as he scoffed, “Yeah, okay. Thanks, and tell Eden I said hi.”

Dash snorted. “Sure, but she still thinks you’re a piece of shit for taking that shot at her.”

Saint chuckled and disconnected the call. It was a running joke, although he was probably the only one who found it funny.

“Who was that?” Mia asked, moving back up and resting her arms on the seat. Her soft vanilla scent filled his nose, but he did his best to ignore it. “Is Eden your girlfriend?”

“What? No.”

“Who is she?”

“None of your business. Now sit back.”

“You weren’t this grumpy at the bar.”

“I’m always grumpy,” he insisted.

“No, you were kind of charming.”

“I’m not charming. I’m an asshole whose patience is running out fast with you, so sit back and shut the fuck up.”

When she didn’t hit him with a comeback, Saint glanced in the rear view mirror. Maybe that had been a little harsh. Her brows were pinched together and he could’ve sworn he saw a wave of hurt wash over her pretty face before she sat back and crossed her arms.

“Wow. That was rude,” she murmured.

“Get used to it,” he grumbled, telling himself he didn’t care if he hurt her feelings. Even so, he met her sky-blue eyes in the mirror and, yep, she was looking at him like he was a bastard. Good. Better that she see the real Nikolai Vasilevsky now rather than create some imaginary man in her head who she mistakenly believed was a good guy. He’d only been nice to her at the bar because he’d needed to trick her into coming with him.

Mission accomplished.

He certainly didn’t care that she was so much prettier than he’d expected. And he wasn’t remembering the soft, almost shy way she’d smiled at him—and how he’d liked it. Nope. Mia Carlisle was nothing but a means to an end. A way to lure Chadwick Carlisle right where they wanted him. Then Saint would pull the trigger without thinking twice.

When the moment came, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her father. And then she would hate him more than she already did.

◆◆◆

Mia had no idea where they were going or why Nik had taken her. Maybe she should be more worried, but something about him felt…familiar. It was the strangest damn thing. They’d never met before the Sip & Spark, and when she’d basically turned him down, he’d picked her up and tossed her into his car. She should be a trembling, freaked-out mess, right? Instead, she was…curious. Intrigued.

Well, until he snapped at her. Now her feelings were hurt. She’d always been far too sensitive, and she knew it. Still though, he didn’t have to be rude.

They reached Chinatown and Nik parked the SUV in a gloomy alley behind a brick building. He climbed out, walked around and opened the back door, but she didn’t move, only sat there, arms still crossed, forcing him to lean down and peer in.

“What’re you waiting for? An engraved invitation?”

“How about an explanation?” she countered.

“How about you get your ass out of the car before I forcibly remove it?”

Narrowing her eyes, she scooted across the seat and slid out. “You could’ve just asked nicely. Manners go a long way.”

He hiked a dark brow and she focused on the scar that slashed through it. It was undeniably but inexplicably sexy, just like his tattoos and the way he wore all black. The smoking, however, she could do without. The obnoxious smell clung to him and she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Would you kindly accompany me into the building, Miss Carlisle?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Do I have a choice?”

“No,” he gritted out.

With a huff, she took a step then abruptly halted. Alarm bells clanged in her head. “Wait a second. How do you know my last name?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Since the moment he’d snatched her from the bar’s parking lot, her mind had gone haywire. At first, she thought he was a serial killer and she’d just become his next victim. Then she worried he might hurt, torture or sexually abuse her. But, he’d kept his distance and didn’t give off pervert vibes. No, he gave off a very mysterious air and oozed danger. But the kind of danger a warrior exuded. She wondered if he’d been in the military or CIA or something equally risky. But his last comment and the fact he knew her last name—this had to have something to do with her father. It was the only explanation that made sense.

“Move it,” he growled, taking her elbow and forcefully escorting her to the building. Once they reached the glass door, Nik glanced down at his phone then punched a number on the keypad beside it. When it buzzed, he shoved it open with one arm, nodding for her to go in first. “After you, Goldilocks.”

Mia gave him an overly sugary smile and swept past. Even though she and her father weren’t close, she knew he dabbled in all sorts of questionable things. His love of money and power eclipsed all, including her. So, if Nik planned on using her to get to her father, he was about to get a rude awakening.

Chadwick Carlisle didn’t give a shit about his daughter. He never had, and Mia didn’t see that changing in the near future.

“Up,” Nik ordered gruffly, nodding to the staircase.

Surrounded by gloom and quiet, they trudged up the dusty stairs, side by side.

“How far up are we going?” she asked, pausing to peek up through the railing and trying to see how many floors were above them.

“Until I say stop.”

“Oh.” God, how had she ever thought this man was charming? He was a prickly SOB, the furthest thing from Prince Charming. If this were a fairytale, he’d be a frog for sure. Or better yet, a toad.

Sneaking a side glance, she studied his stern profile. The firm, angular jaw, stubbornly set and covered in dark stubble. The bump in the middle of his nose which made her think he’d broken it at least once. The black flames inked on his neck licking upward.

A shiver ran through her, but it wasn’t from fear. The idea that she could be attracted to a man who was holding her against her will was a little disturbing.

What the hell is wrong with me? she wondered. Am I so desperate to lose my virginity that this barbarian looks good?

Yes. The answer to that question was a resounding yes. But she wouldn’t dare let herself continue with that line of thought. Nik might possess a dark sex appeal that was making her lonely kitty purr, but she wouldn’t know what to do with all that muscle and ink and surliness. Plus, she had a pretty good feeling he wasn’t a man who took things slow in the bedroom. No, he’d ram and pound and fuck like a piston. Not exactly how she wanted her first time to go. She wouldn’t be able to walk after Mr. Dangerous was done with her. And she certainly wouldn’t be able to run if the opportunity to escape presented itself.

By the time they reached the top floor, Mia was breathing hard. Damn, she really shouldn’t have stopped doing yoga. Once she was out of this mess, she vowed to start working out again. As they walked down the sixth-floor hallway, Nik checked apartment numbers. He stopped in front of apartment six-twelve then pulled a small tool from his pocket. Mia watched closely as he stuck it in the keyhole and worked it around with obvious finesse.

“You’re picking the lock?” She probably shouldn’t be surprised that he possessed such a shady talent.

“Don’t exactly have a key,” he grumbled.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“You don’t wanna know.” She heard a soft click and he pushed the door open. “After you, Miss Carlisle.”

The tight way he said her last name, his teeth clenched around the syllables, practically confirmed her suspicions. This wasn’t about her. Somehow, she’d gotten swept up into some drama that connected back to Chadwick Carlisle.

Once Nik realized she was a useless pawn who wouldn’t help his game, what would he do with her?

Another shiver ran through her body, and this time it was definitely out of fear.