Make You Mine Page 3

  “No. I don’t. She’s damn good at her job and a total professional.” He allowed himself a smile. “Plus she’s much better looking than any of my other bodyguards and I do like to maintain a certain image.”

  Eva scowled at him. “That’s not the real reason.”

  Alex smiled back. “No, you’re right; it’s not. The real reason is that when I was sixteen I was raped by a guy and ever since then I don’t feel super comfortable in close quarters with men.”

  There was a brief silence. Then Eva snorted. “Sure, use rape as a joke. That’s pretty low, Alex.”

  They thought he was lying. Everyone always did.

  He let the smile sit there. “I am pretty low, Eva. You know this about me.”

  “I imagine,” Zac said, ignoring the sniping, “that she’s returning to Russia because of a colleague of hers.”

  Alex gave his friend a sharp look. “What colleague?”

  “His name is Mikhail Vasin. From the looks of things they were both in a special forces unit of the Russian army. He disappeared a couple of years ago in Chechnya after an anti-terrorist operation and is presumed dead. Or should I say ‘was’ presumed dead.” Zac glanced back at his computer screen. “Apparently there’s evidence he’s still alive.”

  “So she’s returning home for him?”

  “They were both in the same unit for over two years.” Zac looked at him. “She’s ex-army, which means she’ll have a very strong loyalty to her fellow soldiers. If he’s been found alive, I can’t imagine her sitting here on the sidelines.”

  No, she wouldn’t. Katya had told Alex nothing of her life, but from what he’d seen of her in the past three months, she was a soldier through and through. Honorable, loyal, and upright. Pretty much the antithesis of himself, which did make it beautifully ironic that she was his bodyguard.

  Man, did he love a good bit of irony.

  “She told me it was a family emergency,” he said to no one in particular.

  “Perhaps she does consider this Vasin family. Both of their fathers were ex–KGB operatives, and are now pretty high up in the Russian military. A family business from the looks of things. If Vasin is involved in black ops activities no wonder she didn’t tell you anything more.”

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” Eva added.

  “It is when she wants to leave before her contract ends,” Alex said without heat. “I wonder what she’s planning. A rescue mission?”

  “That’s not the real question.” Zac stared at Alex, his gaze unnervingly direct. “The real question is what you’re going to do about those dice.”

  Fuck. Knowing Zac and his loathing of loose ends, he should have expected the question, or at least anticipated it. Alex crossed one ankle over his knee, shifting the tension that had suddenly gripped him. “I’m going to do nothing as yet.”

  “Why not? Tremain is still in a coma and no one knows who’s responsible. Even my sources are finding it difficult to get anything concrete.” He paused. “Considering that all of this appears to be centered on your family, I would have thought you’d have shown more interest than this.”

  Jesus, of course Zac wasn’t going to let this go. He never let anything go.

  “Hey, you know me,” Alex said, going for flippant. “I don’t give a shit about anything.”

  “Sure you do.” Eva folded her arms. “I think you give a shit about this.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “You got all tense the moment Zac mentioned it.” Her gray eyes narrowed. “You know more about this than you’re letting on, Alex. Why not share with the rest of us?”

  Could he say it again? No, he couldn’t. The truth needed to be rationed carefully; otherwise it came off sounding far more real than he could handle.

  “I thought we had a don’t ask, don’t tell policy?” he said instead.

  “When it doesn’t go outside the club,” Zac replied. “But in this case, it’s ending up affecting rather more than just us.”

  “Shouldn’t you be having this little chat with Gabriel instead of me in that case? He was the one who opened this fucking can of worms in the first place.”

  “And you’re the one who was at that casino.” Zac’s voice held a hint of iron. “You were the one who knew your father owned it when the rest of us didn’t.” He paused. “Anyway, we’re on this path now; we may as well continue to walk it.”

  Alex didn’t move. Christ, he’d already given away far too much already, which for a man famous for his poker bluffs was galling in the extreme. Fucking friends. This was why he had so very few of them. He hated being read so damn easily the way Zac and Eva seemed to be able to do.

  “Very Zen,” Alex said. “But we don’t have to walk anything if we don’t want to.”

  Zac leaned back in his chair. “You know where the dice Tremain gave Gabriel came from, don’t you?”

  He willed his muscles to relax. Made himself smile. “You mean your precious sources haven’t figured it out already?”

  “Of course they have. They’re a VIP invitation to an exclusive poker game.”

  “Conrad South,” Alex said. He’d long been able to say the name without inflection, without even feeling anything, something he’d spent long years dedicated to. “He owns a casino in Monte Carlo. The Four Horsemen. Every year he runs what he calls the Apocalypse, a high-stakes poker game by invitation only.”

  “And have you ever been invited?” Eva asked.

  What did he say? More truth or another evasion? “No. But that’s because Conrad knows I’d wipe the floor with him.”

  Zac was frowning. “But why would Tremain have those dice? And why did he give them to Gabriel? What’s his connection to this casino?”

  Alex had an idea. But it wasn’t anything that Zac wouldn’t be able to find out on his own, because he certainly wasn’t going to tell the other man. The conversation had already progressed way beyond what Alex was comfortable with and he didn’t want to be asked yet more questions that he didn’t want to answer.

  You really think it still matters? Haven’t the last nineteen years of your life been about making sure it doesn’t?

  Alex took his hands from behind his head and put them on the arms of the chair. No, it didn’t matter. It really didn’t. “I’ll leave you to work that one out for yourself, Zac.” Alex pushed himself out of the chair. “I know how you love a good mystery.”

  The other man’s amber gaze was impassive. “They’re connected, aren’t they? The Four Horsemen and that casino your father owned.”

  Shit. The guy was far too sharp for his own good. “Don’t you have a proper job to think about? Papers to file or something?”

  “I have a secretary for that kind of thing,” Zac said without any discernable change in inflection. “There were things about that casino I didn’t like.”

  “What? Other than the fact you could buy just about any drug you liked there?”

  “There were a great many female employees. Too many.”

  Alex thrust his hands in his pockets, a ripple of unease moving through him. “Surely you can never have too many female employees?”

  “Don’t be a prick,” Eva said with some disgust. “And stop making everything into a joke. Especially this.”

  Alex glanced at her. There was a small silver spark burning in her gaze, a glimpse of the intensity she normally concealed under biting sarcasm. Jesus. He knew personal when he saw it and he was looking at it right now. Which made it even more imperative he leave it alone. It was either that or he got pissed off, and where that would lead was anyone’s guess. Nowhere good probably.

  “Angel,” Zac murmured before Alex could say anything. “It’s all right.”

  She blinked, then looked away suddenly, untucking her legs and shifting to get off the desk. “You guys stay here and argue about it all you like, but if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get some shit done.”

  “Eva.” Zac’s voice held an edge of command he very rarely used, but i
t stopped Eva in her tracks. “Wait.”

  Interesting. Whatever was going on between those two, Alex had no idea, but he was intrigued. Especially when he’d never heard Zac use that tone with her. And even more interesting, Alex had never seen Eva actually obey.

  She was standing near the desk, a mutinous look on her face. “What?” she demanded, glancing back at Zac.

  “Where are you going?”

  Eva flicked Alex a strange glance, like they were complicit in something, though what Alex had no idea. Then she said, “Someone has to do something. And since you’re too busy thinking and Alex is too busy pretending he doesn’t give a fuck, it has to be me.”

  An unfamiliar feeling turned over inside him, a discomfort he couldn’t immediately identify. “Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of going to Monte Carlo,” he said.

  “Okay, I won’t tell you I’m thinking of going to Monte Carlo.”

  The discomfort increased. Eva only left New York if she was going to Gabriel’s lodge or Zac’s island in the Caribbean. And then only in Zac’s company. “Eva,” he said. “You can’t.”

  “Why not? You’re not doing anything and this is important.”

  “No.” Zac had risen to his feet behind his desk. “Angel, you know you can’t do this.”

  Color had crept into her cheeks, that strange look in her eyes pinning Alex to the spot. As if she’d recognized something in him. As if she knew. “Some people don’t deserve to get away with it, Alex,” she said quietly. “Some people deserve a bullet. And if you won’t do it, I will.”

  Tension gathered in the air, thick and tight, like the tension gathering inside of him.

  He knew what she was talking about. Had she heard the truth when he’d spoken? Had she experienced something similar?

  He didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to see the confirmation in her eyes. He’d never wanted to know her past like he’d never wanted anyone to know his. Because everything he did was about leaving that past behind. Pretending it was over and done with and didn’t matter anymore. But whatever had happened to Eva still resonated for her. Still mattered. A reminder that the past was always there, a ghost that would never ever be exorcised no matter how many drugs you took or people you screwed.

  But maybe it was too much for her as well, because her gaze flickered away from his at the last minute. As if she couldn’t bear too much reality either.

  Conscious of Zac’s attention shifting from sharp to razor-like, Alex said, “You can’t shoot someone without proof, Eva. And you can’t get proof unless you get close to them.”

  “Then give me those dice and I’ll get close.”

  “When you can’t go anywhere without your faithful guard dog?”

  Her color deepened. “I can—”

  “More important, though, unless you can play a good hand of poker, you’re not going to get anywhere near that casino.”

  A silence fell.

  Eva’s gaze shifted from him to Zac.

  “No,” Zac said. “I can do many things, angel, but poker isn’t one of them.”

  Her attention returned to Alex. “Then it has to be you. You have to go to the casino and you have to get in on that game.” The look in her eyes sharpened. “Then you can get that proof. Then you can put a bullet in their head.”

  * * *

  Alex came out of the building, eyes dark as a gathering storm and the smile on his face like a tiger’s. He didn’t often get into tempers, but she could tell he was in one now.

  “Get in the car, darling,” he ordered as she straightened from where she was leaning against the side of the limo. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

  Katya did as she was told. She couldn’t imagine what “bone” he had to pick with her–it couldn’t possibly be about the job, because she knew he had nothing to complain about when it came to her professionalism–but clearly she was going to find out. Regardless, she’d be leaving soon anyway, and then it wouldn’t matter.

  She’d be on her way back to Moscow and Mikhail.

  As the door shut behind Alex and he shifted onto the seat opposite so he was facing her, Katya folded her hands in her lap and met his stormy blue gaze. Obviously his meeting with his friends had not gone well. “What is it, sir?”

  “You’re ex–special forces.”

  That was in her résumé. Not a big secret. “Yes, sir.”

  “But you still feel loyalty to them?”

  Interesting question. Why was he asking? “I’m sorry, sir, but how is this relevant?”

  He leaned back against the seat, stretched his arms along the back of it. “You’re not going back to Moscow for a family emergency. You’re going back to rescue a colleague. Someone by the name of Mikhail Vasin.”

  Shock ran cold fingers down her spine. The information about Mikhail was classified. Extremely classified. No one should know about it, least of all a selfish billionaire playboy with a healthy disregard for his own life.

  He was smiling, that casual smile that hid the sometimes terrifyingly perceptive man underneath. “I know, it’s classified, right?”

  She should say nothing of course, neither confirm nor deny, since she couldn’t afford either when it came to Mikhail. Yet saying nothing seemed pointless. If Alex knew who Mikhail was then he knew everything.

  “How did you find this information?” she asked, trying not to let her shock show.

  Alex lifted a careless shoulder. “A friend.”

  “Mr. Rutherford.”

  When Alex had told her he had a meeting at Black Star that morning, she’d had no idea it would be about her, and yet that was the only explanation. She didn’t know Zac Rutherford personally, but she’d had some contact in conjunction with Alex. Ex-military, that was for certain, and a mercenary too. Had spent some time in a Russian prison from the looks of his tattoos. A dangerous man, she’d always thought, and that was even more certain now, especially if he could get hold of classified information like this at a moment’s notice.

  “Mr. Rutherford, indeed,” Alex agreed. “So there’s no point in denying anything. I know it all already.”

  “That information is—”

  “Classified. Yeah, yeah.” He waved a hand. “I’m not interested in how classified is it or even how Zac got hold of it. All I’m interested in is how it pertains to our little situation here.” His mouth curved. “And we do have a little situation.”

  Katya sat up straighter. “There is no situation.”

  “Sure there is. The situation is that you lied to me.”

  Anger stirred. She ignored it. “I do not lie.”

  “You told me you had a family emergency. But Mikhail Vasin is not a family member.”

  “No, he’s not blood related. But blood ties are not all that makes someone part of your family.”

  An expression she didn’t understand crossed Alex’s features. He looked away for a second, and when he glanced back the expression was gone. “He’s a friend then?”

  No. He was more than that. He was a fellow soldier and the man the General had wanted for her future husband. She didn’t love him, but that didn’t matter. Love was a fickle emotion and played no part in her decision-making processes. Loyalty and respect carried far more weight, were far more enduring.

  But then there had been that mission, the one into Chechnya to take out a potential terrorist threat. The one they both knew had to be done. And Mikhail had disappeared.

  And her father had put his loyalty to his government before his loyalty to his family. Before his loyalty to her.

  Katya looked into Alex St. James’s mocking blue eyes. This man wouldn’t understand loyalty. Or respect. Or faith. He had nothing and no one but himself. What was the point in explaining anything to him? “Yes,” she said levelly. “He is a friend.”

  “Pretty close friend to risk your life saving.”

  “I risk my life for people I don’t know or like every day.”

  “Ah, but let’s not kid ourselves that’s all abo
ut your altruism. You get paid very well for that.”

  No, of course he wouldn’t understand. He didn’t have that drive for purpose. For a life spent in service to the greater good. He didn’t have a God. Like the many Americans she’d worked for, his only god was himself. “Money is not the only reason for living.”

  He gave a short, hard laugh. “No, fuck, you got that right. But you have to admit, it makes things a hell of a lot easier.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. It did. “I do what I do for reasons other than money.”

  Alex tilted his head, the cold white light of winter coming through the windows glossing his black hair. “There are other reasons?” He looked mystified, but she knew he was only pretending. He did a lot of that.

  “You would not understand,” she said.

  Another of those fleeting shadows passed through his eyes, the ones she couldn’t interpret. “You’re right. I don’t.” He shifted restlessly on the seat, lifting one ankle onto the opposite knee, the dark wool of his suit pulling tight over muscular thighs, though why she should notice that she couldn’t imagine. “So tell me more about your boyfriend Mik.”

  Of course he would minimize it. He did that with everything. “His name is Mikhail.” Misha, to her. “And he is not my boyfriend.”

  Alex didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed. “Whatever. I know he’s a Russian special forces agent that went missing on a mission to Chechnya. A mission the Russian government denies all knowledge of. I know he’s been missing for two years, which is approximately the same time you’ve been working as a bodyguard.” He shifted again, pulling his phone out of his pocket and looking down at the screen, his thumb scrolling through what looked like a document. “In fact, not only did you leave the Russian army; you left Russia entirely a couple of weeks after he went missing.”

  “I’m not sure how this is relevant.”

  But his gaze missed nothing. “Why did you leave? You’re a soldier, Katya. The same, apparently, as your father. Soldiers don’t leave their families, their units, or their countries just like that.”

  She’d seen him do this before, focus that blue gaze on someone as if that person were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. As if he wanted to understand them more than he wanted his next breath. It made everyone he turned it on his slave. But she’d never been his object of fascination. And she didn’t find it attractive. She found it threatening.