“You have to let me touch you,” he murmurs. “We have to be a united front, remember? How will we convince anyone we’re happily married if you pull away every time I try to kiss you?”
His hand snakes around my throat, and he turns my head until our lips are a whisper apart. A few seconds of us breathing in the same air pass.
It’s pure temptation. Now, I know what a drug addict feels like when she just can’t resist her next hit.
My mouth parts.
It’s all the invitation he needs.
His lips crash onto mine, his tongue invading, fighting, conquering. The world around us blanks out. There’s nothing but him and me, and we’re swept up in a tornado of lust and bad decisions.
His grip on my throat loosens as he turns me to face him and presses me against the counter. I can feel his cock twitch through the fabric of his sweats.
I moan into his mouth.
I shouldn’t like this. It shouldn’t feel like coming home.
And yet it does.
We kiss each other like we’re the last two people left on this entire planet. Like if we stop, the world will end.
His palms slide down my sides and wrap around to cup my ass, tugging me into him. There’s not a sliver of space left between us, and yet it’s not enough. It’s like he wants to absorb me into him. I can’t say I hate the idea.
He breaks the kiss, dragging his lips to my neck, his hot tongue igniting a trail of sparks down to my core. My eyes drift open, and the first thing I see is his gun lying in its holster on the coffee table. The gun he’s used to kill who knows how many people. The haze lifts.
What the hell am I doing? I’ve lost it.
Panic grips me, and I shove at his chest. “Stop.Stop.”
He pulls back with a rough groan. “Baby…”
I slip out from between him and the counter, putting distance between us. My common sense has finally returned. What possessed me just now? He’s not good for me, for a million reasons, including how he makes me lose my mind.
I’m supposed to keep my distance from him, not make out with him in the kitchen, for God’s sake!
My eyes meet his. “This is a mistake. I don’t want this.”
Hurt flashes inside his hazel orbs, and I hate that I caused it. But it’s better if I hurt him now. It’ll be better if I refuse to give him hope.
Because once we get Gino and Vita what they want, I’m getting out of New York.
CHAPTER 15
BLAKE
The next two weeks go by at the speed of light.
Vita comes over at nine each morning, taking care to enter the building through the discreet back entrance where there’s little chance anyone will see her. It’s doubtful the Bratva is watching the penthouse, but she and Gino don’t want to take any risks.
The Bratva can’t have any idea what we’re planning, and seeing the don’s wife coming over here every day of the week would raise questions.
Vita walks me through everything the Ferraros know about the Bratva and how it operates. She shows me pictures of the pakhan, his brigadiers, and his top-ranking vors. She gives me the biography of Maksim Garin and his wife, Ekaterina, also known as Katya. I read this last document over and over until I can practically recite it in my sleep.
Maksim and the pakhan, whose real name I discover is Yaroslav Andreyevich Sokolov, are distant relatives. Their mothers are cousins. According to the information the Ferraros were able togather from the men they captured, there’s been a rift between the two since the pakhan started to have trouble in Boston. Some of the vors think Maksim has been stealing from the pakhan, but there’s never been any proof. The familial connection has protected Maksim so far, but one wrong move could be the end of him.
He’s looking for a way to win back the pakhan’s favor, which is why we need to make contact with him.
“He’ll quickly sense the opportunity to get valuable information from Nero, but you will have to convince him that bringing it to the pakhan is worth the risk,” Vita advises one morning while we’re having coffee in the kitchen. “His wife is well aware of their precarious situation. She will do everything she can to help her husband determine if you are the key to fixing their relationship with the pakhan.”
