AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“More mafia business?”
“Something of the sort, but they’re not as clever as the Bratva. They think I wouldn’t find out about this little shipment, but I have eyes and ears everywhere. Nothing gets past me.”
“But what’s so special about this train?” I ask, still not understanding why he’s so desperate to take it from his Italian opposition.
“It’s not the train itself, but what’s on board,” he says, his eyes flickering over my breasts.
Another chill moves through me, settling in my lower belly. I put my hand there, trying to make it go away so that I can think straight. I can’t allow Jasha to trick me into trusting him again.
Jasha pulls a cigar from the inner pocket of his coat and follows it up with a silver lighter. “My brother’s lighter,” he says, flicking it open and holding it up to the end of his cigar. “A bit of a family heirloom, like what I’m after on the train.”
He puffs smoke into the cabin, causing me to cough. The smoke also gets in my eyes, and I wave it away. “This isn’t good for the baby.”
“Ah, you’re right,” he says, and I think he’s about to put out the cigar, but he stands up and slides the window open, allowing the freezing air to rush into the cabin and wrap around my bones.
I wrap my hands around myself. “Jesus, that’s too cold. Can you close it?”
He jerks his cigar out from his mouth and crumples it in his hand, throwing it out the window and sliding it shut with a loud bang. “You’re hard to please, but I don’t recall you being that way when I first met you,” he says, his anger quickly overshadowed by his incessant need to tease me.
“Well, I’m pregnant now,” I reply as he sits back down.
“Would that change anything?” he asks, leaning forward and clasping his hands together.
I pretend not to know what he’s talking about. “Apparently, I’m pickier.”
“That’s not what I was referring to,” he replies, grinning in that crooked way he did when we first met. Does he really think I’m going to fuck him again after everything that’s happened?
Not in this lifetime.
And probably not in the next, either.
“Maybe you’re just not good at taking hints,” I say, pulling myself as far back into my seat as I can go. The fabric is scratchy, even through my blouse, but I’m starting to shiver from how cold it is in here. Any warmth is better than nothing.
“Cold?” Jasha asks.
I nod.
“Deal with it,” he replies, standing up again. “I have to brief my team on what’s happening next. They’re not the most patient bunch, and to be honest, neither am I.”
I scoff as he leaves me alone in the cabin, sliding the door shut with the same unnecessary force that he used to close the window. I have half a mind to run back to the control room and lock myself inside, but I know that he’d eventually get in. I can’t run from him, much less all the men he’s brought with him.
But I do have to deal with this cold. Jasha might be able to handle it with his wool jacket and muscular build, but I’m not made for the cold. I had the heat cranked up to eleven in the control room, and now I’m freezing my tits off because he opened the window.
The moment I know he’s far enough down the hallway not to see me, I get up and start pacing. It’s the only thing that will keep me warm, aside from cuddling up to him, but I’d rather freeze than do that. He’d get too much satisfaction out of it, and he’s gotten enough of that from me already.
I just hope he feels guilty for what he’s done. Under that ruthless exterior, there must be a heart that’s hurting because of what he’s done. And it is there. I know it is, because he’s spared me and the baby. Maybe it’s only because he’s the father, but it does prove he has a soul.
Asshole or not, maybe I can get to him. I really only have twenty-four hours, if that, but I’ll be damned if I don’t give it my best shot.
5
Jasha
On the outside, I’m calm and collected like I always am, directing my men to take positions at the front, middle, and rear of the train to watch for trouble.
On the inside, though, my entire identity is falling to pieces like snowflakes fluttering down from the sky.
Ican’tbe a father. For one, I’m certain I’d be a terrible one. I don’t even know how to hold a baby. When Nikolai had one with his wife, I almost dropped her the first time I held her, and I was too terrified to touch her again until she got old enough to not to flop around in my arms like a five-pound hunk of rubber.
