The Hitman's Obsession Read online

  “If you trust them so much, then why are you running away?”

  “Dying’s not on top of my bucket-list, baby. Making you mine is.”

  “You’re sick.”

  Dimitri had an answer for that one. “What about you, Sonia? When I held you just now, kissed you, you slammed your lips into mine. You felt it. Don’t deny it.”

  “Felt what?” she whispered.

  “This potential between us.”

  “I teach kindergarten. Marrying a contract killer for the Bratva isn’t on one of my dream boards.”

  “Marry me? Woman, you sure fucking know the way to this cold killer’s heart.”

  Sonia claimed she was a teacher, but the fact she’d stayed strong all this while told him this wasn’t her first brush with danger. With a father like Wyatt, he wasn’t surprised.

  Crimson flushed her cheeks and neck. “I didn’t mean it that way. I never called you cold.”

  “You’re thinking it, but that’s fine. I can change first impressions, show you I can be fire, too.”

  She didn’t seem to notice him crossing the distance between them, until he was inches from her. Sonia jerked, but didn’t push him or tell him off when he ran his fingertips up her left forearm.

  Such soft skin. She was soft all over, he knew. The image of her luscious tits and curves pressed up against his dominated his thoughts. His dick pulsed against his zipper.

  Dimitri couldn’t remember the last time a woman had this much hold on him.

  Trembles ran up and down her arm, as if she struggled with the weight of the metal.

  Fuck, but he never wanted to see her ever hold a weapon of murder again. He gently pried the Beretta off her hands.

  “Safety isn’t even off,” he told her, showing her how.

  She leaned against the car.

  “Can I expect any more escape attempts?” Dimitri drawled. Oh, no matter what her answer was, he’d be on high alert now. He couldn’t risk her hurting herself, driving through the dark out of the woods and back on the highway.

  “Maybe not.” Sonia’s downcast eyes prickled at him. He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.

  “I’m not the worst choice in the universe, baby.” Dimitri never cared about what people thought of him.

  He had a job, did it well, and was proud Vasily counted on him. Purpose gave him fulfillment, but killing left him all hollowed out after, reminded him of death and corpses. Sonia tasted of sweetness and fire, of life.

  “I’m frightened of you.” Sonia peeled herself from the car and began walking to the cabin. Fuck, Dimitri could do nothing but watch the perfect shape of her ass in those tight jeans as she strutted to the doorway. Her four words were at odds with the confidence in her walk.

  “You don’t smell scared,” he stated, trailing after her. His hands were tainted. Dimitri had molded and trained them to take lives, break bones. Still, all he could think about was running his dirty hands all over her pure body. Letting Vlad ruin her wasn’t an option. Dimitri wanted to that himself, and that kiss on the road told him she didn’t resist. Sonia’s words made sense.

  She already knew Dimitri was muscle for the Ivanov family. What she really was frightened of was this attraction between them. The moment he’d saved her, Dimitri doomed them both. Sonia ceased to become a teacher, and Dimitri was now traitor to the only family he’d ever known.

  If he couldn’t make Sonia his, own her body, heart and soul—what else did he have to lose?

  ****

  “I don’t have any women’s clothes,” Dimitri said, huge frame disappearing down a corridor.

  Sonia looked around the surprisingly modern but rustic space. The front door led to wide space with a living room, a dining table, and an open kitchen. Wood lined the walls, but the floors and furniture looked new, hardly used.

  Dimitri returned with a stack of fresh clothes and towels, handing them to her. Sonia looked at them for a couple of moments, uncomprehending.

  A little growl rumbled out of Dimitri’s massive chest, a sound an animal would make as opposed to a man, but she’d gotten over her initial fear of him.

  “I’m sure it’s been a long day. Bathroom’s over there,” Dimitri explained, pointing towards the first door in the corridor. “I’ll make us dinner.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. Sonia could do that. Follow simple instructions.

  After the haze of confusion disappeared, clarity and logic would return to her. In theory at least, but Dimitri’s presence threatened the barriers she placed around herself for protection.

  Chapter Five

  Sonia needed to get out of these clothes. There had been a spot of blood near the hem of her shirt she’d been staring at the entire ride. It wasn’t huge, the size of a quarter, but every time she saw it, she replayed her father’s death in her head.

  Something crashed to the floor. Sonia jumped, but Dimitri had only knocked over a lamp by the living room.

  “Clumsy as hell,” the big man muttered.

  He looked adorable, awkward when he handed her the clothes and towels. Dimitri placed the lamp back, gave a huff and sauntered over to the kitchen. Then he shrugged off his jacket, revealing a crumpled white shirt strained by his shoulder holsters.

  Her gaze lingered on the spots of blood there, too, just like the coin-sized stain on her top. She swallowed. It only then hit her she was in a room with a predator. Dimitri took off the holster. Metal gleamed from his guns. When she’d held one a moment ago, she noticed he had the grips modified. They were worn down in her hands, too, well used.

  Her stomach twisted into knots. Did she just call a killer cute? What the fuck was wrong with her? He set the keys to his Impala with the holster. Sonia could dart forward, grab the keys, and make another run for it, except fleeing was the last thing on her mind.

  She remembered Dimitri brushing his large fingers against her arm, how she’d been stunned he was capable of gentle touches, too. He’d clicked off the safety, challenged her with his eyes to run again while telling her he wasn’t he worst man in the world to be trapped with.

  Dimitri might be a monster in human skin, but he’d saved her when no one else blinked an eye.

  “Do you need something else?” His voice sounded like gravel, rough, laced with barely suppressed need.

  Sonia had seen his hunger every time he looked at her. It should send her running, but she was beginning to realize this might be the safest place on earth. She had to learn to trust one monster to protect herself from others much worse than Dimitri.

  Remembering the way Vlad looked at her, like she was a new toy he could play with then discard after, made her shudder with revulsion, even now.

  “No. I’ll be right out,” she answered, turning away. Sonia practically broke into a sprint, but she forced herself to slow down. Reaching the bathroom, she automatically locked the door behind her. Setting the towel and clothes down, she looked at her reflection in the mirror.

  A stranger looked back at her, her hair disheveled and with dark shadows under her eyes. She’d bitten down her nails, too, when her father had driven up to one of the underground gambling dens the Ivanov family operated.

  The spot on her shirt haunted her, taunted her. With a frustrated snarl, she stripped it off. Her jeans and underwear followed. Her feet were smudged with dirt. Tiny unseen rocks had drawn cuts, too. Stepping in the shower, she turned on the taps and let the hot water pound down her face and body.

  Closing her eyes was a mistake. She saw Vlad’s office again, the smirking bastard pretending to blow smoke off his gun. One moment she sat beside her father, hating him. The next, he was dead, part of his face torn off like some zombie in a horror movie.

  Sonia couldn’t comprehend at first, until a spot of blood hit her.

  “Don’t,” she whispered.

  Only a weak woman rewound the past events in her head and didn’t do a single thing about it. She remembered Dimitri hauling her up to her feet instead, the warm press of him as he held
her, told her to play along.

  Sonia had still been half out of her mind by then, unable to fully process the fact Dimitri had chosen her side. Images of that horrible office fragmented. She used him as her source of strength, recalled how she let herself be swallowed in his strength and embrace.

  And that kiss.

  Sonia had never been kissed that way before. Opening her eyes, she took deep breaths. She could do this. Figure things out. The future seemed so uncertain, but she was certain of Dimitri at least.

  She and Dimitri were marked for death the moment Dimitri had shot Vlad. Oh, she knew who the bastard was.

  Her father had reminded her to be on her behavior, because Vlad was the boss’s brother. Pure perverted scum. She wondered why a man like Dimitri would cast his lot in with them. Sonia couldn’t entirely forget the silent accusation in his eyes, the sense of loss there when he’d admitted he killed for her.

  Dimitri looked a like a man whose soul had been torn in half, and she’d been the cause. Was he regretting his decision now?

  Sonia used the liquid soap and finished off. Wrapping a towel around herself, she stepped out and examined the clothes Dimitri handed her. The shirt was two, three times her size. Sonia lifted the fabric to her nose. It smelled of fabric softener and him.

  She didn’t know why that mattered, why the thought of wearing his clothes and scent made her heart beat a little faster. Fuck. She shouldn’t bother looking good for him, yet she took her time drying her hair, fixing it so she looked semi-presentable, before heading back outside.

  ****

  The table had been set for two, with mismatched pieces of plates and cutlery. The food smelled great, although Sonia wasn’t really hungry.

  “You sure took your time,” Dimitri remarked.

  She noticed he’d changed out of his suit and into a thin white shirt and a worn pair of low slung jeans. When he moved to shift some of the food from the kitchen to the table and set the dishes down, she caught glimpses of his lower abs. Sonia pretended to feign interest in dinner.

  What was wrong with her? Why did she notice every detail about Dimitri? No, she was hungry to know everything about this man. His origins, what made him tick.

  This wasn’t a fucking date.

  “Is that stroganoff?” she asked when he lifted the lift.

  Dimitri grunted and took the chair opposite hers.

  He scooped her a generous heaping and placed the plate in front of her. Sonia was tempted to empty out the contents of her stomach. Too nervous for the meeting with Vlad, she hadn’t eaten since morning.

  Looking at meat made her queasy, reminded her of chunks of her father’s blown-off face.

  “Sorry.” She didn’t know if her refusal to eat would make him made.

  “Fuck.”

  She flinched. He stood and returned with a bowl of soup instead.

  “Better?”

  She nodded. They ate in silence for a couple of moments. “You mentioned this place belonged to your grandfather.”

  “Used to be a family hideout. My grandpa taught me how to hunt, how to hold a gun steady while my father and brothers were away.” Dimitri looked less intense now, as if he were seeing events of the past being played out.

  “Do your father and brothers—” She faltered, wondered if it was too insensitive to ask. Were Dimitri’s family hunting them, too?

  “They’re dead. Ivanov’s not my last name. They took me in.”

  That explained a few things at least, why Vlad seemed so smug in giving Dimitri orders.

  “I’m sorry.” It seemed that was all Sonia could say. She tried the soup, surprised it tasted good.

  “There’s nothing to apologize for. Sonia, I’m a grown man. I’m capable of making my own choices.”

  She met his gaze. “You don’t regret killing Vlad?”

  Do you regret saving me? Sonia didn’t dare voice that out loud though.

  “Someone had to end the bastard, might as well be me. Vlad’s scum, but Vasily and the others aren’t like that.” Dimitri studied her closer, which made her a little uncomfortable. “What made you decide to become a teacher?”

  “My mom taught kindergarten,” she responded. “She stopped teaching after she got sick, but she loved it, teaching kids.”

  “Sick? Then, she’s—” Dimitri paused.

  Sonia nodded in confirmation.

  “She passed away when I started college. She was the only family I had left. My dad…” Sonia let out a bitter laugh. “We weren’t even close. He left us when I was twelve, occasionally wrote me letters. Those stopped, too. Then three days ago he suddenly appeared on my doorstep, asking for my help.”

  Dimitri’s face went rigid with anger. “Scum like that deserves to die.”

  “Don’t say that. I mean, what he did was unforgivable, but he’s still my dad. He used to try harder at fatherhood when I was a kid. I guess he gave up.”

  Sonia said nothing more. Her relationship with her father was complicated. She hated him, and yet loved him all the same.

  Despite her father's desperate actions, he’d given her good memories when she was younger. Her dad had taken her to the movies. They both loved chocolate milkshakes and chili cheese fries. His blood ran in her veins. Part of him lived in her. What Wyatt did was unforgivable, but he was dead now, leaving her to clean up his mess.

  Chapter Six

  Sonia didn’t dare ask what would happen next. The rest of the conversation turned to safer topics, things like what she taught at school, if she had any favorite kids. She asked about what he did for the Ivanov family.

  It felt like an awkward first date, except both their lives hung in the balance. There was no telling what tomorrow brought.

  “Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll have clear heads,” Dimitri said once they finished eating. “Get some sleep. The guest bedroom’s next to the bathroom. It’s yours.”

  “I can’t do that. Let me help. You cooked dinner, I’ll do dishes.”

  Dimitri frowned, but Sonia stood and started bringing the tableware to the sink. They worked side-by-side, with Sonia washing the dishes and Dimitri wiping them dry with a washcloth.

  It made her intently aware of what a large man he was, how he could easily crush porcelain and ceramic with those huge hands. Yet, he handled them with a certain delicacy, careful not to break them.

  “These belonged to my grandmother,” he said.

  Sonia touched the fading floral design on the edge of the plates.

  “You said you lived with your grandfather. Did she pass away early?” Sonia didn’t know what possessed her to dig deeper, why she hungered for any drop of information Dimitri gave her.

  Getting to know Dimitri wouldn’t be wise in the long run. The more she knew about Dimitri, his origins, what made him smile or scowl—the less she’d begun to think of him as her enemy and something else. What could be said of her, if she could take his car keys and walk out of here any time she wanted, but instead she stayed?

  Sonia was his weakness. Dimitri had carved himself a reputation out of violence and bloodshed. He could survive on his own without her to drag him down. In a twisted way, he was her salvation, the only thing standing between her and the Ivanov family.

  Dimitri grunted. She took that as a “yes”. Sonia didn’t press, was about to change the topic, but he opened his mouth.

  “She was the best thing that happened to him, according to my grandpa. With the kind of lifestyle my family chose, it’s easy to drown in all the darkness, be swept away by the violence. She anchored him, even though she didn’t live that long.”

  Sonia didn’t miss the wistfulness in his voice. As a boy, did Dimitri dream of finding a woman like his grandmother?

  “Enough questions. Time for bed,” Dimitri said, after they returned the plates to the glass cabinets above the sink.

  Was he afraid of getting to know her, the way she was of him?

  Exhaustion crept to her bones. Sonia nodded. She headed to the room he i
ndicated, noticed him watching her the way he did when she got out of the car. Before, she had felt like prey being stalked by a predator who meant her harm.

  For all she knew, he might be a beast in bed. The only difference this time, was the fact she wanted to find out—to feel those strong hands pinning her wrists down, his body imprisoning hers and preventing escape. Not that she wanted out.

  How could she hunger for this stranger so much, when she knew so little about him? True, she knew those hands were stained with blood, that he broke men for a living and probably felt nothing after. Sonia remembered the delicate way he handled his grandmother’s china, too. Rough and tender—Dimitri was capable of both, and Sonia wanted to take a ride on the wild side and feel those hands and lips on her body, his dick buried inside her hot sheath.

  Could he see the way her nipples tightened under his shirt? Sonia knew once she shut the door, she would touch herself in bed, her thoughts solely of him.

  Dimitri clenched his fists by his side, hardened his jaw as if he was stifling words he wished to say, words that might break the thin barrier between them. Those steel-grey eyes dared her, challenged her to take the leap. Her heart beat so painfully against her chest, she was terrified he could hear its accelerated pace.

  Not tonight. Never.

  This man would be the death of her, and if she fell, Sonia wasn’t certain he would catch her.

  “Good night, Dimitri,” she whispered.

  “Sweet dreams, Sonia.” His lips curved into a wicked smile, as if he knew she would dream of him.

  Panicked he could read her thoughts on her face, she slammed the door shut, debating on pushing the lock. Dimitri probably had a spare key somewhere. Part of her wanted to wander into his room in the middle of the night and fulfill her fantasies.

  Shaking her head, she crept to the bed. Her skin burned, so she chucked the comforter aside. Something was wrong with her, for wanting this strange killer so much. Sonia had convinced herself so many times she wasn’t like her father.