Hostile Ground (The Arsenal #7) - Cara Carnes Page 0,78

I assumed so, at first. But Gavriil was thrown in a few months after me. We formed a bond, an alliance of sort. He had the protection of his father’s name.”

Prison. He’d been fighting to survive. That’s why he hadn’t come back for her.

“When I got out, I looked for you,” he said. “Maksim had worked on getting the underground operation started using whatever contacts and resources he had. I added mine and the rest is history, I suppose.”

“Peter took me from the camp,” Addy whispered. “I was too young to be officially on Hive’s records for the first year or so. He…he sent me on off-the-book missions. They were…horrible.”

Kristof tightened against her. Her eyes burned.

“I can’t ever talk about those years. I…” She swallowed. “I need that part of me to remain buried with him.”

“I understand,” he whispered. He peered into her eyes. “Tell me everyone who hurt you back then is dead.”

“Almost all of them are.”

“My father will die. Did he ever…” His lips thinned. “I need to know.”

“No. He had others come to the camp who…” She ran a hand across his face. “We survived. We moved on.”

“We did.”

She pulled back and looked at the turtle in her hand. “Thank you for this. I never expected to see this again.”

“I have the others.”

“You do?”

“I believe I mentioned that earlier,” he said with a grin. “I asked Maksim to bring them here. They’re yours.”

But he’d kept them all these years. Why?

“Come. I have something else to show you.” He took her hand and headed down the stairs leading toward the back of the property.

Lights illuminated a large shed. He opened it up and turned on the interior lights. A large table sat in the center of the space. A cart with equipment sat nearby.

Addy walked forward and ran her hand across the blowtorch. Glass tubing in assorted sizes and colors sat to the left of the machine. Her pulse quickened.

Glass blowing had been a fascination of hers since her formative years at the camp thanks to an elderly man named Pasha. He’d taught her the craft late at night when everyone else was asleep.

She’d continued the hobby after leaving the camp as a reminder of what she’d survived. The craft of making figurines from glass calmed her mind, took her back to the calm she’d once only found in that small shack with Pasha.

And Kristof.

Kristof had stood guard at the door whenever she’d worked with Pasha. He’d kept them both safe from the guards finding out—even going so far as intentionally being caught by them and taking a punishment so she and Pasha wouldn’t be discovered.

“Kristof,” she whispered, turning to face him.

Intensity resonated within his gaze. He cupped her face. “I’m not a good man. I’ll never be half as good as you deserve, but those nights in the shed, watching you with Pasha, seeing you craft something so beautiful despite the hell we endured, that’s when I realized I wanted to be more than the sword of vengeance for Mama.”

God. Addy swallowed and tumbled into the emotion sweeping across Kristof’s face.

“I wanted to be the kind of man who could make you smile the way that old man did. I wanted to give you the happiness and joy you found in that shed. I wanted to make sure you never forgot how to smile and laugh.”

This wasn’t the Kristof she was prepared to handle. She ran her lips across his. The soft glide wasn’t the chaotic claim she wanted. The carnal fusion her body demanded.

He groaned and deepened the kiss. She pushed against his good shoulder. “Your mouth. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’ll take the chance to taste you.” He licked at her lips. “Open for me. Let me have you, even if it’s only one kiss.”

Addy surrendered to the need overpowering her common sense. Nothing mattered beyond sating the desire rolling through her. He licked and nipped at her mouth, teasing her with light sweeps and a quick flick of his tongue across hers. She chased, parried each action with a counter maneuver.

A gasp escaped her as Kristof guided her backward. Anticipation quickened her pulse as he deepened the exploration. He pressed her against the wall and lifted her up.

“Legs around me,” he ordered against her mouth.

She stifled a moan as she wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust against him. His hardened length rubbed against her with just enough friction to heighten the awareness. Need pooled between her legs and her nipples hardened as he ground