Beautiful Russian Monster (A Vancouver Mafia Romance Book 2)

I woke up feeling hot and thirsty. Our portable AC unit had shut off during the night. The room was swimming in a darkness so thick I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face.

I also needed to pee.

I gingerly sat up and my feet found my flip-flops in the dark. Trying to remain silent and not get shot by Viktor, I shuffled noiselessly to the bathroom. Not wanting to wake him up, I silently shut the door before turning on the light.

Something small and fast zipped up the tiles.

I clenched my throat, strangling the scream that ripped out of me. I tore open the door and staggered back.

From the darkness, Viktor leaped over my bed. He kicked open the door of the bathroom, his weapon drawn, before he spun around.

“Don’t shoot,” I yelped, putting my hands over my head.

“Turn on the light.” He spoke in a calm voice.

With trembling fingers, I found the light switch and flipped it on. Before me, Viktor stood wearing only his cargo pants. My eyes couldn’t seem to look away from his broad muscular shoulders and corded torso. The guy looked like he’d stepped off the cover of a fitness magazine.

I wanted to apologize, but I was struck dumb by the beauty of his half-naked body.

He squinted in the light. His voice was rough from sleep. “What scared you?”

I pointed at the bathroom, shuddering as I remembered the lizard. “It moved so fast.”

I watched as he ducked back into the bathroom. “Are you talking about this tiny gecko on the ceiling?”

“It caught me off guard.”

He rubbed his face and then checked his watch. “It’s quarter after five. We needed to get up in the next fifteen minutes anyway. Get ready.”

He stepped aside so I could use the washroom.

I didn’t move. “What about the lizard?”

“What about him?”

“Aren’t you going to remove him?”

He stared at me for a good four seconds before he spoke. “No.”

“You won’t?” I tried to mask the wounded note in my voice, but it hurt my feelings that he wouldn’t help.

“Have you ever tried to catch a gecko? Just let it be. It will leave you alone.”

The thought of having to shower with the little lizard made my knees weak—my fear of reptiles bordered on a phobia. “Can’t you just shoo him away or something?”

He let out a long, impatient breath. “I can shoot it. Would you like that?”

“No!”

“Is this going to be a thing?”

“Maybe?” I whispered, hoping that would make him help.

He holstered his weapon and then disappeared into the bathroom. A couple swear words and several thuds, and then he reappeared with his hands cupping something. “Get the door.”

I yanked the door open. He crouched down and gently put the gecko down on the concrete floor of the hallway. The gecko sat there, stunned, staring back up at Viktor.

“Go on, boy,” he said in an almost tender voice.

Something visceral inside of me reacted to the sight of his broad, strong shoulders, his messy dark hair and his kindness. Something that made my stomach flutter. My fingers itched to touch his bare skin and see if it was as warm as it looked.

The gecko seemed to break out of his trance, and he raced down the hallway.

I peered around the door frame and watched it disappear. “Thank you for not making me shower with him.”

He stood up and looked down at me with an unfathomable expression before he swung the door shut. “You have five minutes.”

Twenty minutes later, he waited impatiently at the door. “What are you doing?”

I already felt rushed. I had showered and was trying to air dry my hair. I also had trouble deciding which top to wear. My hair was still damp, so I didn’t want to wear my hat, but not wearing it required me to repack my bag. And in the end, it didn’t fit in my bag, so I had been forced to figure out how to tie it to the back of my bag.

“Don’t rush me!”

“Let’s go, or I’m going to pack that bag for you.”

I glowered at him as I swung the bag over my shoulder. “I’m ready.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yup.”

“Where’s your hat?”

“Where’s your hat?” I parroted back at him.

He reached into his back pocket, showed me the borrowed baseball cap and put it on. The brim of the hat, pulled low over his eyes, only added to his mystery—which, for some reason, annoyed me.

“I don’t want to wear my hat yet.”

He stood there, not moving, obviously not buying my protest.

“It’s going to create a crease in my hair, and I don’t even have a flat iron here.”

“Put on the damn hat.”

“Why?”

He crossed his arms. “Just do it.”

I tossed my bag back onto my bed and wrestled with my ties, trying to free my hat.

He stepped forward, swatted my hands away and, within seconds, he held out my hat to me. I tried to imagine him in the dating world. Despite how attractive he looked in a baseball hat, I couldn’t imagine any woman who would put up with his grumpy impatience.

I put the hat on my head and followed him out of the room. “Have you had a relationship with a member of the opposite sex?”

He stopped so short I walked into his back. “Why?”

“I want to know what kind of woman puts up with your attitude.”

He started to walk again. “Haven’t had any complaints so far.”

It shocked me that he was admitting to romance. “You go on actual dates?”

He ignored me as he led me down to the lobby of the hotel. There was no one at the front desk. I watched as Viktor tossed the key on the counter.

He glanced at me, assessing my bag, my footwear, my hat. “Put both bag straps over your shoulders.”

“What do you care how I wear my bag?”

“It’s easier to run if both straps are on.”

“I told you. No more running.”

“Sometimes it happens.”

I frowned as I shrugged the bag onto both of my shoulders. “You know, the world that you live in sucks. You should try a different place—where people aren’t always trying to hunt you down and hurt you.”

He looked down at me with an unreadable expression. “Stick close to me. We’re going to walk alongside buildings, and we’re going to be focused when we cross the streets. You don’t meander or stop. I want you to be within arm’s reach at all times.”

I tried to imagine him walking up to some woman’s front door. Would he carry flowers? Or a case of beer and a pack of condoms? Maybe it was unfair to cast him in that light, but he was the one who claimed he knew how to do the dirty deed better than most. “Do you go on dates?”

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Walk close to you and buildings and don’t wander off or be slow.”

“Let’s move out.”

Viktor walked so fast that I had to hustle to keep up with him. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“What was your question?”

“I want to know if you go on dates.”

He grabbed my arm and hustled me across the street. “Stay focused, Blaire.”

“I’m not only shocked that you’ve been in a relationship, but frankly, it floors me that you find women who want to date you. Where do you find these women?”

He gave me another hard look.

“What?” I protested. “Your dating profile would be so compelling: willing to kidnap, vast knowledge of firearms and the dark underworld of crime. Strong, silent and wants his way all the time. Will put on your seat belt for you.”

He ignored me as he moved through the quiet streets, taking shortcuts between buildings and through small yards. He moved so fast I was starting to get a stitch in my side. I was also really hungry. “Any chance we could hit up a place for a coffee?”

“Your dating profile wouldn’t be much better.” He sounded grumpy.

“Oh, this I have to hear.” I was almost panting. Despite the early hour, the sun burned warm and the air was thick with humidity.

He stopped and stood under a big canopy. He was looking up across the street. “Quiet.”

The tone of his voice made me stop short. I stood there, cowering beside him before finally whispering, “What are we doing? Who’s there?”

“I didn’t see him, but I felt him. I think we lost him.”

“Who’s after us?”

“Don’t know.”

I tried to keep the skepticism out of my voice. “You didn’t see him, but you felt him?”

He grabbed my hand and yanked me across the street. “Call it my sixth sense.”

“Are you a psychic?” I didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm from my voice as I pulled my grasp from his.

He frowned as he looked back at me. “No. When I became a sniper, I learned to feel when eyes were on me. I’m never wrong.”

I stopped walking. “You were a sniper?”

He reached back and grabbed my arm so he could yank me forward. “Keep moving.”

I couldn’t keep the glee out of my voice. “This is my proof that you were in the military.”

“Come on,” he said gruffly. “Enough talk.”

We walked in silence for several more blocks. I didn’t want to think about some shadowy man stalking us. I needed a distraction.

I stared at Viktor’s straight back. “Your posture was your giveaway. All the men in law enforcement move a certain way.”

He ignored me, which made me wonder afresh what type of woman would date him. What type of women was Viktor attracted to? Was she an ultra-feminine woman who contrasted his strength and hardness? Or was she a female version of himself, a hard woman who knew her way around guns and danger?

The smell of fish hit us like a wall. Gulls sounded loudly in the sky, and I could taste the salt in the air as we approached a marina.

He led me down a dock, walking closely behind me while I staggered forward on the moving, uneven boards.

“All the way to the end.”

When we got to an ancient-looking fishing boat, a young blond man appeared on the deck. He looked at Viktor before turning his blue stare toward me.

His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Well, hello. Welcome aboard.”

I stared up at the sun-bleached surfer man-boy. “Thank you.”

He reached down and offered me his hand. “I’ll be your captain for this trip, but if you want, you can call me Skipper.”

Viktor made a low noise in his throat, a sound which made me reach up and allow Skipper to pull me aboard.

“Thank you.” I smiled at him from beneath the brim of my hat.

“Cute hat.” He offered me a flirty arm. “Shall I give you that grand tour, mate?”

Viktor jumped onto the boat with ease and moved up so close behind me he was practically touching me.

Knowing that Viktor was breathing down our necks gave me perverse pleasure. I put my hand on the captain’s arm. “Please do.”

Skipper led me along the port side to the front of the boat. “Up here is the most comfortable place on the boat.”

Viktor towered over us like a third wheel on a date, but the Australian and I ignored him. For the first time since I’d met Viktor, I had a little taste of power in the moment, and I wasn’t going to give it away. I was enjoying that I was provoking some sort of reaction from him. I wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but he wasn’t happy.

My wide smile was genuine as I looked around the front deck of the boat. Someone had built a square frame that was covered in a tarp and bug netting and provided some shelter and shade. Beneath the frame were a table, two chairs, and a hammock. There was also a rudimentary sink and a small fridge. A net bag of fruit hung from one of the beams. Best of all, there would be fresh air and sunshine.

“This is so lovely.” I spoke truthfully.

“There are snacks and refreshments in the mini fridge. Help yourself to whatever is there.”

“So generous of you,” I told him.

Viktor half snorted from behind us.

Skipper continued to focus all his attention on me. “Tour’s not over. Although you won’t be using them—this trip will be too short—why don’t you let me show you the sleeping quarters downstairs?”

“I would appreciate that.”

He led us down narrow stairs and opened the door to a tiny room that had two single beds stacked. “Here’s where you can sleep if you’re not sleeping on the deck.”

I didn’t step in, and shuddered at how small the room was. I would be avoiding this room at all costs.

Directly across the hall, he opened a closet door to a small toilet. “Here’s the loo. Galley is at the end. I have a coffeemaker. Say the word, and I can bring you a cup.”

Viktor seemed unimpressed. “When do we leave?”

“We can leave now.”

“Do it.” Viktor’s voice was cold. He turned and motioned for me to head back up the stairs. I walked to the back of the boat, where the hammock and table beckoned. This reminded me of the cruise I had taken through the south of Germany for my grandmother’s last birthday. We had hired our own chef and crew and spent a week getting drunk on expensive champagne while floating down the Danube. I had found that trip extraordinarily soothing.

“You want to tell me what that was about?” Viktor’s voice cut like a knife from behind me.

His dark tone sent a sharp thrill down my back. I ran my fingers over the edge of the table, avoiding his gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“That little show you were putting on back there.”

I spun on my heels and openly challenged him with my glare. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t think I know what you were doing?”

“I wasn’t doing anything.”

He stepped up close to me, so close I had to tilt my head back to see his face.

“No more bullshit. He’s not your skipper, and you’re not his mate.”

“I was being friendly.”

“Stop it.”

I scoffed a laugh at him. “You’re telling me to not be friendly?”

He gave me a slow blink. “Rule number three: you talk to no one.”

“You can’t add rules all willy-nilly.”

“I just did.”

I made a noise of frustration. “Wow. When you’re not a monster, you morph into the Grinch.”

He put his hands on his hips and stood there looking at me. I flounced away from him and made a big production of hanging up my bag and finding a bottle of water from the fridge. I wasn’t even thirsty, but I carried it to the table and opened it.

He looked pissed as he asked the question. “I know I’ll regret asking this, but what is a Grinch?”

It took everything in me to not laugh. I was finally getting some leverage on this man. “The Grinch stole Christmas.”

“I didn’t steal Christmas.”

“No. You stole me.”

His jaw tightened. “Don’t move from this spot. Don’t talk to him. Don’t leave the netting. And stay out of sight of other boats.”

He turned to leave, ruining the game.

I called after him. “I’m surprised you’re not handcuffing me in some dark closet.”

He sounded tired. “Do what I tell you, Blaire. No more fucking around.”

And then he disappeared from sight.

The entire boat shuddered when Skipper fired up the engine. I chose a seat which gave me the maximum amount of shade and the best view. Above me, Skipper was in the boathouse, concentrating as he navigated his craft through the water.

The river was so wide that in places it felt more like a lake. The landscape felt very safari, with distant mountainous hills that sometimes flattened into vast green plains. It was hard to gauge the depth of the water because of all the riverbed silt that was being stirred up.

At least an hour passed before I heard a noise behind me. I turned, surprised to see Viktor already sitting at the table. He was the largest man I had ever seen who moved with the stealth of a soldier. I watched as he started to methodically clean one of his weapons.

“Do you know how deep the water is here?”

He looked up and squinted. “Average depth of the Mekong is seven feet and average width is around a mile.” He pointed across the river to the other side. “See those raised homes?”

In the distance, there was a row of shacks precariously perched on rickety stilts. “I see them.”

“This whole area is a floodplain. During the rainy season, the water rises so high it covers the stilts, and they are able to boat right up to their homes.”

I turned back to look. “That’s a lot of rain, so this must be their dry season.”

He looked around as he polished. “Water’s pretty low.”

“How do you know all this?” Was it from being in the military?

“The nature channel.”

Laughter punched out of me. “You’re kidding.”

“Lots of people watch nature shows.” He sounded defensive.

“Who knew that kidnappers have this whole secret life where they go on dates and watch television?”

He gave me a mild look, but he didn’t respond.

“What would be on my profile?”

“What profile?”

“You said my dating profile wouldn’t be much better than yours. I already know that’s not true.”

He stood up and peeled off his T-shirt before tossing it on his pack. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. He was just so wonderfully muscular and male. There was a long, faint scar on his right shoulder. Another one under his left ribs. And another one, lower down, almost hidden by his pants. Were these scars from bullets or knives? How did someone get so many scars? My fingers itched to trace along the faint white lines.

His voice cut through my thoughts. “Now I know how the gardener felt.”

“If you must know, it was the gardener’s grandson. And if you don’t want people to look at your body, you should stop flaunting it.”

To my surprise, a deep laugh rumbled out of him. “Slow-walking heiress with a dirty thing for the gardener. She’s never at a loss for words. Requires complete protection from everything bigger than a gecko, but she can shop like a boss.”

I burst out laughing at the truth of his statement. I couldn’t argue a single point.

In response, he gave me a self-satisfied smile. It felt like we had struck a truce—for the time being.

“How long until we reach Vietnam?”

“We should be there before nightfall.”

“And then we meet up with your friend?”

“He’s not my friend, he’s a contact.”

“You know what I mean.”

“That’s the plan.”

The boat jerked hard, and then the engine cut out. I watched as we continued to float in the slow current. Ahead of us was a grove of floating trees, or maybe it was a flooded island bank—it was hard to tell.

Viktor and I made eye contact as we listened to Skipper’s thongs flapping against the boards. He came flying down the stairs and around the side of the boathouse.

Viktor stood up. “Don’t move.”