With my instincts on high alert, I scan for every exit point, every potential threat in the thinning crowd.
Mission parameters have shifted.
Retrieving the diamonds is still my ultimate goal, but a new element has entered into the equation. A foreign, unsettling protective instinct that has nothing to do with Roman’s orders and everything to do with the naive woman at my side.
It’s an unprofessional, dangerous vulnerability I can’t afford.
Yet as she walks beside me, chattering nervously about how she’ll need to wash the apples extra carefully, I can’t seem to quarantine my reactions.
For the first time in years, I acted on impulse.
And that’s far more perilous than any knife.
Chapter 4
Chloe
Kolya bends close to my ear and whispers low-pitched words meant only for me. “Let’s go.”
Not a suggestion…a command.
My body obeys before my mind can even form a protest.
His unyielding hand stays on the small of my back, his palm spanning the curve as if he’s staking a claim. My breath catches, a betraying hitch I pray he doesn’t notice. His touch—proprietary, possessive—burns through my yellow sundress as he steers me away from the shattered cheer of the farmers market.
Kolya—a wall of solid muscle—did a much better job of stopping the purse snatchers than I could have.
Like an action star, he downed both would-be thieves in seconds.
We navigate through the market in a cocoon, the crowd parting around us, whispers trailing in our wake like smoke.
Fingers point.
Phones rise.
Someone yells for security.
With Kolya’s presence warning them off, none of it touches us.
I clutch my purse to my chest, heart hammering so loudly, I’m sure Kolya can hear.
One moment, I was talking about my favorite tomato soup recipe. The next, violence erupted. The crack of bone still echoes in my head, along with the memory of that man’s knee bending sideways.
Kolya barely moved, and bodies still dropped like flies.
That should probably terrify me. Instead, heat pools low in my belly, and my skin becomes alive where his palm brands my back.
No romance novel ever prepared me for the way danger smells up close, all expensive cologne and controlled violence. The way it walks calmly beside you, carrying your bruised apples after nearly killing two men.
No freaking way is this guy like any regular kindergarten parent.
Kolya’s clinical, assessing gaze rakes over me. “You’re still shaking.”
True, but not from fear. At least, not entirely.
“I’m okay.” My voice comes out breathy and ridiculous. “Just…processing.”
We reach the parking lot, and he angles me toward my beat-up Volvo. I blink, startled, when he fishes keys from his pocket and the Audi in the adjacent spot chirps.
