Wild Men of Alaska Collection - By Helmer, Tiffinie Page 0,134

at his lower lip before stepping back. “Don’t get hurt. I have plans for you later.”

He uttered an animalistic promise, yanked her in for another kiss, and lingered longer than he should have. Now he was hard and hungry with the need to kill. A dangerous combination.

The afternoon had been spent fortifying The Edge since he’d demanded Kate call her contact. She was lethally outfitted in knives, Glock, and sheathed all in black, her deep red hair restrained in a tight bun. The woman was a stunning femme fatale, and he was completely ensnared.

Whoever thought he was dead would be arriving on the iced beach in full view of the lodge. The waters were still choppy from the blizzard stirring up the winds the night before. Since they had access to a helicopter, from dropping Kate in behind, he kept his ear attuned to the skies. He wanted this business over with. He’d waited too long already. Kate was within his grasp. This business needed to be finished. He just had to tie up these loose ends in order to secure a life for them. One where they wouldn’t constantly need to watch over their shoulders.

“Do the owners of the lodge know who you really are?” Kate asked.

“Nyet. They think I’m lonely Russian vithout country. Since there is Russian village outside of Homer, vhich I make time to visit vhen in town, it helps vith the pretense.”

“Are you content here?”

Not without you, was on the tip of his tongue. “Dah, I have been content.” By the evening he’d have a better idea where she stood. He heard the repetitive whoop, whoop of chopper blades. “Time,” he said. “Ready?”

She nodded, her face expressionless.

Now the real test.

Would they be allies or enemies? Would she lead with her heart?

Kate took up a stance next to the glass French doors, her back to the log wall. No bullets were getting through those thick walls. He was loath to leave her, but knew from experience she could handle herself. She’d been in dangerous situations before, though none of them with him or because of him.

She glanced over her shoulder and frowned, finding him still rooted in the middle of the great room. “Hide,” she hissed, motioning her hand low by her thigh.

It grated on him to secret away in the deep shadows of the stairs. He never hid. But in order to ferret out the players, he didn’t have much choice. Not since he was supposed to be dead.

Kate glanced out through the glass, her shoulders relaxing. She shared another look with him and then stood in front of the glass and opened the door. There was a hollered “Kate” and then she was scooped up in a burly man’s arms.

Sergei saw red. He wanted to tear the man to shreds. It took everything he had to stay put.

Ivan entered the lodge. His arm casually looped over Kate’s shoulders.

“So where’s the body?” Ivan asked.

Sergei waited for Kate to move away from him, but she didn’t.

“I do my best work in the kitchen.” She pointed that direction, but Ivan stopped her. “I don’t think so.” His hand tightened on her shoulder. “Come out, Sergei.”

“I told you, he’s dead,” Kate said, her voice monotone as though she didn’t give a damn.

“Don’t get me wrong, Kate, you’re good, but Sergei wouldn’t have let that happen,” Ivan said.

Sergei stepped out of the shadows. “Ivan.”

“Comrade.” Ivan let go of Kate and grabbed Sergei in a bear hug. “I was getting worried that she’d actually killed you. You said she wouldn’t, but you don’t know how much she’s wanted your head.”

Sergei glanced at Kate. Her expression confused, the kerambit already palmed. Light slowly dawned.

“Wait a fucking minute.” She turned to Ivan. “You two have been playing me?”

“For reasons you vill understand soon,” Sergei said. “There isn’t time. Are they coming?”

“Yes, brought them myself.”

“Brought who?” Kate asked. “What the hell are you talking about?” She glared at Sergei. “Talk fast.”

“I needed to know, Katja.”

“Needed to know what?” Her voice continued to harden, become deadlier.

“If I was still alive or not,” Perry said, entering the room from the kitchen, a gun pointed at Kate’s head.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Kate stood perfectly still, the barrel of Perry’s Sig pointed at her forehead.

Perry was alive.

He stood before her, a cocky sneer on his modestly attractive face. She used to see that look as confidence, wishing she could be more like him. Average height, and average build, hid his muscled-physique and wrestler-prowess well, making him a formidable weapon. Part