I kiss the top of her head. “I don’t want you to worry about anything other than getting well. I’ll handle the rest.”
Her pretty blue gaze is open and trusting. “I know.”
For the first time since I took her, she’s giving me her full trust outside the bedroom. She’s looking at me like I’ve always wanted her to—like she’s no longer keeping anything from me, not her feelings, not her fears, not her secrets. And it’s a stunning thing, to have a woman’s intimate trust, to own her respect.
To be the man she trusts with her heart.
I’ll never let her down. I’ll protect her heart and her truths. I’ll give her a safe place to be herself, a place where she’ll never have to doubt her desirability or value. She already had my devotion and admiration, and now I’ll also give her the freedom I promised. The freedom to be herself.
Above all, I’ll always love her. Unconditionally. With everything I’ve got.
“I was going to set you free, you know,” I say, caressing her hair. “After the job.” I want her to understand my distance on that morning. I don’t want her to ever doubt my love.
She smiles. “You have.”
Yes, I have. “The tracker,” I say reluctantly. “We can have it removed.”
“It doesn’t matter. It no longer serves the same purpose.”
I hide a relieved exhale. The possessive, overprotective part of me is glad I’ll still be able to trace her. In our business, that can only be a plus. Leaning in, I kiss her lips. “I’m going to see Adami about this afternoon. Anything in particular you’d like? I’ve organized a priest and a cake. What have I forgotten?”
Her smile turns broader. “Looks like you have it covered.”
“Okay then.” Cupping her head, I sneak in another kiss, this time lingering to part her lips with my tongue. Fuck, she tastes good. All honey and cream. My cock grows hard. I want her so much I ache, but it’s way too soon.
I force myself to pull away. Her bow-shaped lips are a pretty cherry pink from my kiss. Soon. Soon I’ll kiss every inch of her body. As soon as she’s able to walk.
Though the way things are now, I’ll have a hard time walking.
With a last look at her sitting so small and delicate in the white hospital bed, I close the door behind me and return to the basement to tell Anton we need to arrange a nurse and credible deliveries with authentic invoices. He’s bent over his computer, sending an encrypted message to our connection. Ilya has left to take care of the wedding shopping.
I grin to myself, thinking about that. Ilya hates shopping. And for all the grief he’s given me over Mina, it serves him right. Then I grimace. He doesn’t have the best taste. For all I know, he’s at one of those cheap places, renting seventies-style suits with frilly shirts. I shudder at the thought.
Leaving Anton to deal with the logistics, I go in search of Adami to inform her of our wedding plans. It’s her clinic, after all. On the way to her office, I spot a nurse coming in from outside. She catches my attention because she’s unusually tall, almost my height. Her blond hair is twisted into a neat bun and her makeup is done tastefully. Her white pants and tunic are tighter than the other nurses’, deliberately showing off her curves. My mind immediately jumps to Ilya. She’s exactly his type, the type we both used to go for before I found Mina.
Automatically, I nod in greeting when she nears, and offer a stiff smile. She doesn’t shy away or blush like the other nurses here do when they see me.
“Smoke break,” she says in a husky voice, giving me a conspiratorial wink and an answering smile.
I check her nametag. Mariska Molnár. She seems friendly enough. I’ll mention her to Ilya. Maybe he’d like to take her out on a date.
For some reason, that smile sticks with me, even when I round the corner and enter Adami’s office. The way Mariska Molnár looked at me bothers me. She wasn’t flirting. Her manner was rather haughty, like I’m beneath her. Perhaps it’s not such a good idea to play matchmaker.
Adami looks up from her desk. “Can I help you, Yan?”
That smile. It’s familiar, like I’ve seen it before. There’s something else too, something I can’t put a finger on that doesn’t sit right with me. Then I stop dead. She said she’d sneaked in from a smoke break, but there wasn’t a hint of cigarette smoke on her.
Fuck!
Spinning on my heel, I sprint down the hallway. There’s no time to stop and take out my phone to dial Anton. I run for my life.
For Mina’s life.
As I round the corner, I slip on the shiny floor, barely managing to right myself. Yanking the gun from the back of my waistband, I point the barrel in front of me as I race toward our room. From the end of the hallway, I call at the top of my voice, “Mina!”
The door to our room is closed. My senses sharpen. Fear is a monster breathing down my neck as I close the distance.
A loud crash sounds, like metal hitting tiles.
No!
I increase my pace, my lungs burning with the exertion. Two nurses, alarmed by my cry, come running but stop when they see the gun.
“Stay down! Keep the hallway clear.”
My mind is a frenzy of madness when I finally reach the door and grip the handle.
Locked.
I don’t hesitate. I jump back, charge, and kick it down.
What I see isn’t what I expected. The nightstand is overturned, the nurse lying next to it. Mina stands over her, clutching a gun in one hand and her injured side with the other. A red blotch is growing on the hospital gown under Mina’s fingers.
“Mina!”
Gun aimed, I rush into the room. Mina doesn’t look at me, all her attention on the woman on the floor.
