Kissing her.
Tasting her.
And what the hell, fucking her for old times’ sake. Only that wasn’t the exact truth. I wanted her with me. Completely and without question.
As dangerous as the thought alone would be, I was finished with being strangled by anyone’s set of chains. I’d gone out of my way to find her, which I had. Walking away wasn’t an option.
Maybe I was clinging to every scrap of my former self since I’d been forced to lose touch with reality. It was funny how much I’d thought about family during my incarceration.
I’d barely had time to suffer what little grief I was capable of with my father’s death before the incident in Italy. I’d also mourned my brother’s loss of innocence, although that had been taken years before.
A slight stench of blood lingered in my nostrils, but my methods of killing hadn’t been lost in the period of nonuse. After watching him follow my little healer, I’d initially been impressed with her immediate reaction, her perceptions spot on.
I might have allowed him to live had he not doubled back to see if she’d reappeared. The same rage I’d felt before had surfaced again and I enjoyed having blood on my hands. His death had been necessary. Not finding any identification had also brought out another wave of protectiveness I hadn’t known existed.
Maybe that was the last line that had been needed before I’d come to terms with my need to possess her.
With no bodyguard, she was still a female in a sea of predators. She was worth potentially millions to a half dozen other crime syndicates. Had she convinced her father she didn’t need a bodyguard, or had he not cared what happened to his only daughter?
Whatever the case, there wasn’t a chance I’d leave the man alive, affording him an opportunity to strike again.
So I’d attacked from behind, cutting his carotid artery cleanly without a drop of blood spilling on my clothes.
Imagine my surprise when Kirill had discovered the would-be thief had other, darker indulgences on his mind. With his private connections, he’d called in a favor utilizing the picture I’d taken of the dead man.
Lo and behold, what did he learn? The man whose throat I’d slit had been an operative likely sent to kill Rafaela. As an independent, he was little more than a mercenary for hire. But he didn’t work alone. Few knew the man called the Ghost was actually two individuals working in tandem.
Now the hunt was on, the goal to discover the other person. There’d been rumors for years, both men sighted individually only once, their mistake used to our benefit. And we’d gottenlucky with Kirill utilizing the right contact. I doubted my luck would hold, which was why time was of the essence.
With the one bastard down, the other man from the duo could soon retreat depending on the terms of the contract. While he likely had no idea who’d killed his partner, by now he was aware of the man’s death. I’d seen it in the news myself, which was the reason I’d been at the scene.
Seeing her for the second time even from a distance had brought a wave of emotions I didn’t want or need.
Desire being the number one.
Anger shadowing almost everything else.
There’d been no denying the electricity even from several yards away.
Or the fact she’d sensed my watchful eyes.
I’d recalled two of the men Kirill had hired to keep a watch on her. The partner would likely try again. Meanwhile, we were sitting outside a bar where an informant Kirill knew had provided an initial tip, paid to confirm the person’s identity.
I glanced at the windshield as twilight gave way to darkness. The hunt for the second individual had taken much longer than if I had been in Russia with my usual contacts at my disposal. With more time ticking, there was a much greater chance that the element of surprise from my return would disappear.
That meant altering my plans. Italy would wait. The old man wasn’t going anywhere.
The necessity of taking control should be first in my mind.
It wasn’t.
While both Kirill and I had driven, minimizing our time in talking with various people before being led to this seedy bar, he returned to my car, sliding into the passenger seat. “We have our confirmation, although the mother upped his price.”
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand dollars. The man’s reputation precedes him. People are frightened.”
“Then the Ghost is here for an elimination.”
