your ass to the airport and get on your plane. Go home. You’ll be good there.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What does that mean? Should I be worried?”
“Not unless you crossed him in some way or owe him money,” the dummy answered distractedly. “Fuck. I don’t know. Maybe, fuck, I don’t know, Priss,” he repeated, “Could be he spotted you around my building and wanted to check you out.”
Okay. That wasn’t comforting. “So he broke into your apartment and waited on the off chance that I’d show up this morning? Come on.” She dropped her head to the back of the seat and stared at the stained ceiling as a city bus roared by.
“Let me see what I can find out. Give Nik a hug for me.”
She sighed. “Okay. Be careful.”
“Uh-huh.” He hung up.
Eva tucked her phone away, and for the first time in weeks looked forward to leaving New York.
† † †
Sitting at his desk, Gabriel Moretti lifted his gaze from his laptop screen to stare out his office window. Cloudy skies over a choppy Puget Sound went unseen as Vasily’s voice once again echoed through his head.
I want your word that you’ll see this through for me.
And then his own.
You have it.
That motherfucking affirmative had been a no-brainer. No way could he have refused his friend and mentor’s request.
A daughter.
Vasily’s daughter.
Her captivating image drifted through his mind and his body reacted. He was screwed. Had been from the moment he’d looked at that fucking photograph of her. And it had only gotten worse since he’d seen her in the flesh.
He tipped his head to the side and cracked his neck before settling deeper into his chair. Following his meeting with Vasily, he’d spent a miserable few days watching Eva Jacobs attempt to cope with the staggering loss of her mother. She’d been destroyed at the funeral. But upon returning to New York, he’d glimpsed the Tarasov in her when she’d moved beyond the loss to finish out the semester at Columbia.
Now, she was on her way home.
And Gabriel had to get a grip on this. Had she been anyone else, he’d have long ago approached her and scratched the itch.
But she wasn’t anyone else.
Tossing his pen onto the cluttered desktop, he leaned forward to scrub a weary hand down his face, reminding himself that he couldn’t break number two on the metaphoric list of rules they all abided by. Sisters, cousins, even good family friends…off-limits. Especially when it came to a goddamn daughter. Disregarding the tenet would obliterate the rare, absolute trust between him and Vasily, and the fallout would no doubt extend to the boys, too.
Straightening with a jerk, he pulled back up to his desk. He had work to do. This daily merry-go-round head-fuck wasn’t going anywhere. It’d be back tomorrow. Probably later today, he thought, as he once again read the e-mail he’d been mulling over earlier.
Along with Ms. Jacobs’s, I’ve attached three other resumes. Let me know who you choose. Natalie
He grunted. Since the position had been created especially for his charge, there was no choice to make. Ms. Jacobs it was. As TarMor’s very own associate business manager, whom he’d get to see every day. Up close and personal. Finally get to speak with, every fucking day. Maybe even touch on occasion. Just a casual brushing of their fingers as she handed him a contract to sign. Or maybe her mouthwatering body would sweep against his as he held a door open for her. And she’d smile…
As he backed her up against the nearest wall, peeled away the sexy suit she’d no doubt be wearing, and did every single dirty thing he’d been dreaming of doing to her for the past seven weeks.
A knock sounded before his office door opened to show Jakson Trisko, the left brain of Gabriel’s security team, blocking the view out into the reception area and long hallway.
Over six feet of ex-military badass, Jak had reconnected on his return to the States from his decade-long stint overseas. He’d gone to high school with Gabriel and the boys in Queens. They’d been tight back then and were even tighter now.
“Alek is heading this way.” The light from the window glanced off the scar that started at the top of Jak’s right ear and went in a straight line to the corner of his mouth. No corrective surgery for their soldier. Fuckin’ guy looked like he’d been slashed in a brawl and had only enough time to glue the sides of his