As a result, both Jericho and Killian had no tolerance for any form of physical abuse toward women, for any reason.

  “Take the pilot and copilot too and get these—Leon’s guests, back to the estate,” he instructed Killian with a disgusted curl of his lip. “I’ll join you shortly.”

  “I insist that my men be allowed to look for the shlyu—my wife,” Federov corrected when Jericho gave a warning growl at hearing him call Marisha a whore for the second time.

  “As I can’t trust your men not to attempt to shoot at Marisha again”—Jericho refused to officially link her to this man in any way—“it will be my men who will remain behind to look for her.”

  Sergei took a threatening step forward, bringing him closer to Jericho. “You will regret this.”

  Jericho met his gaze unflinchingly. “I already regret ever having met you. But that’s because even breathing the same air as you is enough to make me feel nauseous, and not because I’m in the least frightened of who or what you are.”

  The Russian’s eyes were glacial. “You should be.”

  He shrugged. The longer he kept this man talking, the more time Marisha had to find a suitable hiding place until he was free to go to her. “I should be a lot of things, but afraid of you will never be one of them,” he scorned.

  Federov snorted. “Brunelli has gone soft if he allows you to talk to his guests this way.”

  “You are no longer a guest, and Leon is a lot more vicious than me when he needs to be.” Jericho’s glance was scathing as it swept over the older man. “Where you’re concerned, I have a feeling he’s going to need to be. I’m not sure if you had the full tour of the estate when you arrived?”

  The other man looked puzzled by the change of subject. “I did not go into the grounds, but that is because I have no interest in walking in the gardens.”

  “Pity,” Jericho drawled. “There’s a bunker-type structure built into the ground about half a mile away from the main house. It’s soundproofed, as well as the entrance being hidden amongst the trees.”

  “I am not frightened of you,” Federov sneered.

  “Leon is the one who will be asking you any further questions,” he taunted before turning to Killian. “Ensure they’re all taken to the bunker when you get back.” He turned to the rest of his men. “Two of you stay behind. The rest of you accompany our guests to more suitable accommodation than they had previously.”

  “Where are you taking her?” Killian prompted softly enough so that only Jericho could hear.

  Jericho kept his gaze fixed on the Federov brothers as they were safely secured in the back seat of two separate SUVs, with two of Jericho’s men sitting either side of them.

  He wasn’t surprised his cousin had guessed his intention. “The mountains.” Jericho’s answer was enough to tell Killian exactly where he was going. “I think it’s best if we keep Marisha safely away from the Federovs until we know who’s telling the truth.” Not that he thought there was any doubt about Marisha’s innocence.

  Killian nodded. “Good choice.”

  The four Irishmen owned a cabin in the woods about an hour’s drive away, near the Catskill mountain range. It was where they all went whenever they had time off or needed to get a respite from the tension and danger in their everyday lives. In the mountains, they could walk the trails, fish, hunt, and swim in the lake a short distance away. The location was really nothing like Ireland, but the woodland and mountains were closer to it than the concrete and steel of New York City. Being able to go to the cabin had always given all of them that same sense of inner peace and freedom.

  Jericho had a feeling Marisha was badly in need of both those things right now.

  His not returning to the estate with the other men would also allow Leon to deny all knowledge regarding the actions and location of his head of security. Not that Leon needed it, because as capo, he was a law unto himself, but Jericho’s loyalty to the older man meant he wanted to give Leon that out anyway.

  “Call me when or if it’s safe to bring Marisha back,” he instructed harshly.

  Killian’s nod was just as grave. “And if it turns out she’s married to Federov after all?”

  Jericho glanced toward the hangars where he hoped Marisha was waiting for him. There was no guarantee of that, of course. She could just be so terrified of being caught and sent back to Russia with Federov that once she’d started running, she hadn’t been able to stop.

  Which was going to make finding her a lot harder.

  He turned back to his cousin. “Then I’d say everything I’ve seen indicates she no longer wants to be and I’m going to do everything I can to help her get away from him.”

  Killian gave his shoulder a brief squeeze. “Take care, okay?”

  He frowned. “I’ve driven to and stayed at the cabin dozens of times.”

  His cousin’s smile was rueful. “I wasn’t referring to the drive or the cabin. This one means something, hm?”

  Jericho frowned. “I’ve only just met her.”

  “And it only takes a minute to lose your heart.”

  He gave his cousin a searching glance for several seconds before shutting down his emotions. “I haven’t lost my fucking heart.” He scowled. “Our history says we’d all help any woman who showed obvious signs of being abused.”

  Killian gave him an impatient glance. “I saw the way you were staring at her earlier as you played the recording of her arrival and afterwards.”

  He sighed heavily. “I was looking for more evidence she was being kept in the suite against her will.”

  “Of course you were.”

  “For fuck’s sake… She’s alone and vulnerable, Killian.”

  “And beautiful.”

  “Yes, she is.” So beautiful, Jericho hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her since they broke into Federov’s suite and found her locked in a bedroom.

  Killian gave him a hard slap on the back. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “I thought you were on your way to a fashion show in Milan?” Jericho teased.

  “I can still call you from Italy,” his cousin drawled.

  “Okay.” Jericho put his gun away in his shoulder holster. “I’ll send the rest of my men back in one of Federov’s SUVs shortly, and I’ll take one of ours.”

  “Giving Leon deniability.” His cousin nodded in understanding before marching over to get in the front passenger seat of one of the departing SUVs.

  Jericho waited until they had pulled away with his men and the Russians inside. As expected, his brothers Kieran and Liam were the ones who had elected to stay behind. “Wait here for ten minutes, and then drive back to the estate.”

  Kieran nodded. “Take care, bro.”

  His shoulders tensed. “I’ve just had this conversation with Killian,” he snapped. “I’m helping Marisha because she needs help, not because she’s beautiful and I want to get in her panties.”

  Kieran’s eyes widened. “Wow, that was more information than I needed. I really was just wishing you a safe journey,” he added dryly. “It’s dark and late and over a two-hour drive to the cabin.”

  Jericho could feel the guilty heat in his cheeks for his previous conversation with Killian having now caused him to make assumptions about his brother’s remark. That, and he actually did want inside Marisha’s panties. Inside any part of her, if he was being honest with himself. Which was totally fucked up, given the circumstances. “Which is where I’m not going.” He wasn’t surprised Kieran had also guessed his destination. No doubt Leon would too, but the Federovs’ actions after Leon left their suite earlier meant that none of them would be sharing that information with the Russians.

  Liam grinned knowingly. “Of course not.”

  Jericho gave a rueful shake of his head before heading over to get in behind the wheel of the SUV. “If you get a chance, give Artur a kick in the balls from me.” He grinned, that grin fading as he closed the door and turned on the engine and lights.

  Now he just needed Marisha to have done as he asked and not keep running, so that the two of them could get the hell out of Dodge.

  Marisha’s heart was still pounding and her chest heaving from exertion as she hid behind some oil drums near one of the hangars.

  From here, the lights inside and outside the plane allowed her to see several of Sergei’s men putting Artur into the back of one of the black vehicles before climbing inside with him at gunpoint.

  Did that mean Artur was the one who had been on the receiving end of that gunshot?

  Remembering the murderous glitter in Jericho’s eyes when he looked at Artur after seeing how sore her wrists were from the tightness of the plastic tie, she had a feeling Jericho was the one responsible for shooting at the other man.

  She wasn’t a naturally vindictive person, but after the way Artur had terrorized and tormented her these past four days, most especially about Toly’s death, she couldn’t feel any sympathy for him if he was in pain or already dead. She’d accepted long ago that some people were just innately cruel and deserved whatever they got. Besides, someone needed to pay for Toly’s death.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Sergei and Vasily being put into different SUVs, also at gunpoint.

  Several of Jericho’s men got in with them, then the man she’d heard called Killian got into another one before the three vehicles moved off in a convoy.

  Now only Jericho remained, and two other men who were built so much like him that she thought they were probably related.

  There was some conversation between the three men, then Jericho climbed into one of the last two SUVs and drove in the direction of the hangars.

  Now came the moment of truth.

  Did she stay hidden, or did she trust him and reveal herself?

  If she’d meant to run, then surely she should have just kept doing that once she was far enough away from the plane and Federov’s men.

  Impossible as it seemed considering the horrific things that had happened the past four days, Marisha instinctively trusted Jericho. Not to physically hurt her, at least.

  Could that have something to do with the fact her heart started beating unevenly and her blood pumped hot and fast through her veins whenever she was close to him?

  She immediately admonished herself. Toly was dead, she had no idea what Boris was doing about their disappearance, and Jericho was the first person to show her any kindness whatsoever in days.

  Plus, in the midst of all this nightmare, I’m attracted to him, she admitted inwardly.

  Jericho was like one of those heroes in the movies she liked to watch. Rough, tough, and totally kick-ass as he moved everyone out of his way so he could save and then claim the heroine.

  Marisha gave a silent snort. She was no heroine. Nor was this the time for romantic fantasies.

  No, this really was a moment of truth.

  Chapter Seven

  Jericho put the SUV in Park but left the engine running and the headlights turned on as he stepped down from the vehicle.

  He reeled a step backward as he was instantly struck by a human missile that almost knocked him off his feet.

  Slender arms wrapped about his neck and slender legs around his waist, and the warmth of a face was buried against the side of his neck.

  The only way for Jericho to maintain his precarious balance was to wrap his arms about Marisha’s waist and hold on to her as tightly as she was holding him.

  She felt…amazing in his arms.

  Warm.

  Soft.

  His.

  Federov could claim what he wanted, but this woman was Jericho’s!

  What the hell…?

  Jericho tensed at the inappropriateness of his thoughts.

  He didn’t care what Federov claimed was the reason for Marisha’s bruises and the visibly fresh marks. He had absolutely no doubt this woman had been abused and starved and God knows what else the past few days.

  Jericho certainly didn’t believe she’d been having kinky sex with a man old enough to be her grandfather but who claimed to be her husband.

  More wishful thinking on his part?

  Considering the filthy things he was imagining the two of them doing together and to each other, he was hardly Marisha’s white knight come to rescue her.

  He snorted in self-disgust. He had maimed and killed to survive in the past, and he had no doubt he would do so again if the need arose. The only reason he hadn’t shot to kill Artur earlier was because he knew Leon would want to question the bodyguard along with the Federov brothers.

  Jericho guarded people; he didn’t rescue them.

  The way Marisha threw herself into my arms just now implied she thinks I do.

  They were false expectations.

  On both sides.

  Oh, Jericho would keep Marisha somewhere safe until after Leon had questioned the Federovs as to who and what she was and why they’d brought her to America with them. But until they knew the answer to those questions, Jericho couldn’t allow his guard to drop where she was concerned.

  Damn it, even after she’d answered those questions, and the answers proved she was as much of a prisoner as she had appeared to be, Jericho couldn’t get involved with her. She belonged in Russia, and his life was here.

  Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the two of us doing filthy things together in the meantime.

  Yes, it does, he immediately came back.

  She was a mystery that needed to be solved, and not a woman he intended to fuck.

  Being head of security for the most powerful man in the Mafia criminal underworld kept Jericho busy, but not so much he didn’t have time to enjoy the benefits that came with the job. Women got off on the power and danger he exuded. So much so that they threw themselves at him wherever he went, and he was never without a willing woman in his bed if he wanted one.

  Damn it, he wanted this one.

  He had since the moment he’d been ensnared by those pale eyes staring straight at the security camera as she asked for help.

  As she seemed to ask him specifically for that help.

  But this whole situation could be a ruse, for all any of them knew. Marisha could be a plant, a hired assassin sent here to kill Leon. Not everyone welcomed or wanted the peace talks he’d arranged between the Italian Mafia, the Russian bratva, and the Irish Mob.

  Jericho straightened, his expression turning harsh as he reached up and removed her arms from about his neck. He placed one of his hands against the hollow of her back so that she didn’t fall when he pushed her legs down from around his waist.

  She looked up at him in the beam of light given off by the SUV’s headlights, and Jericho swore he could feel the reproach in her eyes when he put her firmly away from him.

  “Sorry,” she murmured huskily as she turned away to look over to where the plane now sat abandoned on the grass. The lights were off inside and out, and the door was closed. “Where have your men taken the Federovs and their men?”

  “Back to the estate.”

  “As Mr. Brunelli’s guests?”

  Jericho’s smile lacked humor. “Yes, but not with the same comfortable accommodations they were enjoying before.”

  She winced. “Did you shoot Artur?”

  His smile widened with genuine pleasure. “In the thigh.” He nodded. “The bastard had it coming.”

  She gave a shudder. “I’ll never forget the look of vicious pleasure on Artur’s face after Sergei said he was going to give me to his men for their entertainment during the flight back to Russia.”

  Jericho’s nostrils flared, his hands clenching tightly into fists at his sides. “Exactly who the hell are you? And what are you even doing associating with men like the Federovs and their group of thugs masquerading as bodyguards?”

  Marisha was immensely grateful to Jericho for having saved her from enduring the flight back to Russia with the Federovs and their men. But she wasn’t relieved enough to be sure she could tell him everything about herself. Toly had been with her for so long that she had taken his presence and protection for granted. But there was no Toly to protect her now, and she had no idea where Boris was and what or if he was doing anything to arrange for her freedom. She needed to get to a secure phone and call him before she decided what she could and couldn’t tell Jericho.

  “Don’t bother answering me if you’re just going to lie,” Jericho’s Irish accent had grown stronger at her continued silence. “Better we stick with just me calling you Marisha until you feel like telling me the truth.”

  Tears stung her eyes. “I would tell you—”

  “But then you’d have to kill me,” he bit out impatiently. “I’ve heard that one before.”

  She smiled slightly at his attempt at a joke. “Really?”

  “No.” He grimaced without humor. “But that’s only because I’m usually the one threatening to do the killing.”

  Marisha frowned at the way Jericho spoke so calmly of having killed people. Until her mother and sister died when Marisha was five, she hadn’t even been aware of that whole other world beneath the surface of the happy one she’d grown up in. A dark and dangerous underworld, where predators preyed on the weak and the vulnerable.

  Jericho is part of that world, she now reminded herself. Head of security for the capo dei capi of the Mafia: it couldn’t get much higher than that for an Irish foot soldier in the echelon of the Mafia.

  Except Jericho didn’t look like a killer. Instead, he looked calm and unshakeable.

  That Irish lilt touched something warm inside her.

  His air of earthy sensuality cried out to an echoing one inside her.

  But it was all an illusion. An outer mask of bespoke designer-label suits and expensively styled hair that hid a killer, not a lover.

  A cold shiver passed down the length of Marisha’s spine as she saw the way Jericho was now staring at her with unwavering and steely intent, his eyes currently more greenish-blue than merely hazel.

 

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