Dedication
This book is dedicated to my children, who tiptoe around me when ‘mum is writing’ and are so patient and supportive. I love you more than you will ever know.
Copyright
Note from the Author
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Table ofContents
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Sneak Peak
Thank you
Healing Danger
Stolen Dreams
Love Divided
Secret Redemption
Broken Butterfly
Chapter One
Trudging through the deep snow, Roz cursed the hateful stuff. It was an operative’s worst nightmare. Trying to cover your tracks with this shit was impossible. Lifting the binoculars, she watched as the guards patrolled. They were well trained and working in pairs.
This would not be an easy kill, but it would be the most satisfying. If she came out of it alive, great. If she didn’t, she would consider it a sacrifice she was willing to make. Zin was happy now and Celeste was good for him. They would go on to have a good life, with lots of rug-rats running around.
She felt a pang in the region of her long-dead heart as she realised that she would never have that. Some people were not meant to have a happy ever after and she had come to terms with that.
Her job now was to secure the future her brother was building and avenge her friend’s death. She watched as a large black Hummer pulled up to the gate and stopped. The gates opened. The vehicle entered and drove up to the door.
The high powered bino’s allowed her to see Usov get out and stride to the door. He stopped as if sensing her and turned around. He looked directly at her even though she knew he couldn’t see her.
I’m coming for you Usov. Soon, you sick bastard, soon. She watched until he went inside and then grabbing her sleeping bag and the tent she used for shelter, she hiked back to the road and the vehicle she had hidden there.
She stopped short when she saw tracks in the snow leading to her snowmobile. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she realised they were fresh. With lightning speed, Roz ducked for cover behind a tree as a bullet whizzed past her arm nicking the insulation on her jacket.
Her breathing calmed as she looked for a way to her snowmobile. Movement to her left caught her eye and she turned, shooting and
hitting her target with deadly accuracy. One down, one to go if her estimate was correct, which it always was.
Scanning the snow for a glimpse of movement she remained silent, hardly breathing as she listened. Her patience paid off because she heard a branch drop snow and turned, firing at the same time. The man dropped to the snow but not before he got off a shot of his own that tore through her jacket and into the flesh of her abdomen.
“Fucking bitch, that hurts!”
Knowing she needed to move, she stood and walked as quickly as she could towards the snowmobile. She made it and climbed on, hissing a painful sound as she did.
This was worse than she thought. Her vision was blurry, and her jacket was soaked in blood as she pushed the button and started the vehicle. Turning back the way she had come, she leaned on the throttle.
Her strength was going as she neared the 4x4 she had stashed, but she didn’t have the energy to get to the car. She lay slumped on the snowmobile as snow came down around her. She thought absently how pretty and peaceful it was and that maybe this wasn’t such a bad way to die.
She was pissed that she hadn’t killed Usov though. She also regretted not letting Kanan into her bed one last time. She’d had some lovers in her time, but none had made her feel like he did. He always made her feel special and beautiful as if he could slay all her dragons. That was why she’d had to let him go.
Her poison ran deep, and she ruined everything she came into contact with. Despite his rough exterior, Kanan was a good man and she would not hurt another person she respected. It didn’t matter now though.
Closing her eyes, she felt warmth float through her as she felt lighter than ever. So, this was death, it isn’t so bad. In fact, it felt like a relief. She was so tired. Her last thought was of Zin and Celeste, and what could have been with her and Kanan, if she had been a different kind of woman.
He paced the shit hole of a room that Roz had been holed up in for the last two nights and his temper escalated. It had taken him two weeks to track her to this hell on earth and he was cold, tired, and hungry.
Why hadn’t he just stayed on his beach by the water and enjoyed the fishing and the cold beer? But oh no, he had to ride in like a fucking hero and save the day when he’d found out his sister knew of his existence and was pissed at him.
Thinking of Celeste made him smile. She was such a beautiful person both inside and out. Not for the first time he wondered how she had become that way when both her birth parents were assholes.
He sat down on the bed as he looked at his watch. It was starting to get dark and his anger turned into worry. Roz was behaving recklessly. He should just leave her to it. She had pushed him away more times than he could count. Maybe it was time he accepted defeat and left her alone.
So, his life would be a boring one without her to fight with and annoy. Just being in her vicinity made him feel more alive than he ever had without her. He was, he realised, fucked because he would rather have a life fighting with her, than a peaceful one without her.
Popping a Korovka candy in his mouth, he walked to the window and noticed it was nearly dark now. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw it was Celeste. “Hey, baby girl,” he answered.
“Oh, K., Thank God!”
Kanan’s entire body tightened at the fear in her voice. “What’s the matter?” he asked and buried the fear he felt in gruffness.
“It’s Roz, she’s in trouble. I had a vision. She’s bleeding, and all I can see is snow and trees,” she spewed out information quickly and he could hear the panic in her voice.
“Okay, describe it more,” he said as he grabbed his go-bag from the bed where he had dumped it, and left taking the stairs two at a time.
“I don’t know. It’s snowy and there are trees. I can see a really big mountain to her left. Please, K. You have to find her,” she begged.
“I will, baby girl. I will. Does Zin know?”
“Yes, he’s here.”
“Give him the phone.”
“K.” Zin’s masculine voice came on the phone.
“I need Will to access her tracker.” He climbed into his vehicle and gunned the engine as he sped towards the east edge of the Altai Mountains.
“Okay, hang tight.”
Kanan felt his heart beating loudly in his chest at the thought of Roz injured and vulnerable. Apart from the fact she was bleeding, there was the very real risk of hypothermia. He cursed again and banged the steering wheel in frustration. She infuriated him like nobody on earth. He had half a mind to fucking leave her there. If she wanted to die, then she fucking could.
Pushing the accelerator to the floor, he sped towards the mountains knowing that he would never turn his back on her, even if he did want to kill her sometimes. But when the very real possibility of the light and fire leaving those eyes forever was thrust on him, he knew he would go to the ends of the earth for her.
He would, however, spank her ass raw when he was sure she was okay.
“I have the coordinates,” Zin said in his ear.
The fear in his veins turned to ice as he realised exactly where she was and why. With his foot on the floor, he made it to the base of the Altai Mountains. Jumping out, he drew his weapon and checked the coordinates. She was up a click on the mountain path by his estimation. Checking his surroundings using every sense he had, he deemed he was alone at the base of the mountain.
Snow was getting heavier by the second and he could barely see a few feet in front of him as a blizzard set in. Breaking into a full run, he buried the fear he felt under anger at her stubborn ass attitude. When would she see that she was valued, that people cared for her, loved her even?
He wanted to knock some sense into her at the same time as wrapping her tight and never letting her go. He snorted at that as he rounded the corner and checked his bearings again. As if she would let him wrap her up in anything.
Starting towards the direction indicated on his watch, he saw a vehicle come into view. His heart almost stopped as he saw her slumped over the snowmobile about two feet behind the car. Snow was starting to cover her body, and he knew he didn’t have much time. Gently brushing snow from her still form, he lifted her back and felt for the pulse in her neck. It was slow, but it was steady and strong.
This cold as shit weather may have just saved her life. Lifting her into his arms he cradled her close to his body heat trying not to freak out that she was so still. Roz never showed vulnerability and would probably shoot him if he tried carting her around in any other circumstances.
The fact that she was so weak scared the crap out of him more than he cared to admit out loud. Getting to her car he gently put her in the back seat and quickly crossed to the front, sliding into the driver’s seat he prayed the heap of junk started.
It started the first time and he drove to his SUV. Quickly transferring her into his warm vehicle he climbed in beside her closing the door. His go-bag had Quikclot and bandages as well as pain relief and antibiotics. Gently but efficiently, he undid her jacket and lifted up her top. Her smooth, beautiful toned skin was covered in blood on the left side between her hip and ribcage. Feeling behind her, he felt the exit wound and sighed in relief. This was bad but at least the bullet had gone through and wasn’t inside her.
There was still the real risk of internal injuries, but for now, he tipped the clotting agent into the wound and bandaged it to help prevent infection. He then administered an antibiotic injection along with pain relief before covering her with blankets and strapping her in the seatbelt as best he could.
She needed a doctor, but he knew he couldn’t take her to one. Slipping the car into gear and accelerating, he sped back to her hotel room. As he drove he called Zack. “Zack.”
“Go ahead, K.”
Kanan didn’t realise how much he needed to hear his friends voice until it came over the airwaves sounding calm and confident. “I have Roz, she has a bullet wound to her abdomen and possibly hypothermia. She needs a doctor. I can’t tell if she has internal bleeding.”
“Head back to the hotel and I’ll get a doctor and help to you within six hours. I’m going to have Doc Turner call you back in twenty minutes, so he can talk you through what to do.”
“Okay, fine.”
“Hang tight and watch your six, this is a very hostile time, trust no one.”
Before Zack could hang up Kanan spoke again. “Zack?”
“Yes?”
“He dies. No more of this, that fucker dies once and for all.”
Zack was silent for a beat before he spoke again. “Understood.” Zack hung up and Kanan gritted his teeth as he checked her in his rear-view mirror.
Her face was pale, she looked so still but she was still breathtakingly beautiful, not that he would tell her that without getting his balls handed to him. Roz saw her beauty as either a weapon or an insult. Her lessons in life had started too young and with too much brutality.
He didn’t know the details and to this day she didn’t know that he had been the one to carry her out of Usov’s house the night she was rescued so many years ago and he would never tell her.
Chapter Two
Lifting her gently onto the rumpled bed, K quickly and efficiently stripped Roz of her wet clothes. It was imperative that he get her warm. Checking the bandage, he noticed that it was soaked through with blood. Removing it, he cleaned the wound and saw that it wasn’t bleeding too much and that most of it was probably from being jostled around.
With a calm steady hand, he cleaned the wound knowing that the risk of infection was high in this environment. He removed fibres from her jacket that had got stuck in the wound and then covered her up.
His phone rang, and he answered swiftly not wanting her to wake up when she needed the rest. “Yes?”
“It’s Zack. I have a team on the way. ETA four hours.”
“Who?” K asked.
“Daniel, Zin, Drew, Will, and Mustique from Zenobi. I have Dr Turner with me. He would like to speak to you.”
“Fine,” Kanan replied his voice heavy with worry as he looked over at Roz. Doc Turner came on the line and took Kanan through a series of questions about Roz and her condition. Kanan answered them all and then with his phone on speaker, he examined Roz as the Doc said.
“Doesn’t sound like any internal damage son. Have you cleaned the wound?”
Kanan let out a breath and for the first time since he got the call from Celeste, his heart evened out. “Yes, and I gave her a shot of antibiotics.”
“Good call, son. Daniel will assess her further when he arrives, but for now watch her for infection and raise her body temperature. Your best bet is body heat, skin to skin, like a mother does with her baby,” Doc Turner said matter-of-factly.
“Okay, Doc, I can do that.”
Zack came on the line then with an update. “I have Eidolon liaising with us and monitoring the satellite images of the Denisovich stronghold. Hang tight and stay in touch.”
Kanan hung up and looked at Roz as he sat on the bed beside her. She had begun to shiver, and he knew what he had to do but it wouldn’t be easy. Roz was his kryptonite, touching her again would be the greatest pleasure and the most hideous pain because he wanted her, but she didn’t want him.
Roz moaned in her sleep and shivered until her teeth chattered. Kanan swore viciously then began stripping his clothes. When only his boxer shorts remained, he walked to the bed. Slipping in beside her, he pulled her gently to him, fitting her back to his front as he wrapped his arms around her cocooning her body with his.
“K,” she said weakly. In her moment of weakness, she reached for him and he let a smile tip his lips. This was a tiny victory, but a victory none the less. She shook as he held her tighter rubbing his hands up and down her arms and back until the shivers slowly died down and she fell still, her breathing more relaxed.
“Sleep, Kitten. I have you.”
He didn’t rest though, he spent the time relishing having her in his arms again without her whip of a sharp tongue splintering him. Not that he didn’t enjoy their verbal sparring, she was intelligent and clever, quick as a whippet and so sexy his dick twitched just being near her. But it wasn’t that, it was the care she showed for others despite everything she had been through that had made him fall for her. He couldn’t think about the time they had spent together five years ago though. It was too painful to relive that perfect month without thinking about how it had ended.
He had thought he had walls up, but the walls around Roz’s heart were like a fortress, one she protected with a cold exterior and a brutal intensity. He saw through her though, he knew the woman she really was, and he had no intention of giving up even if she drove him nuts. No, he would stick around until she either shot him or gave in.
Exhaustion pulled at him and the next thing he knew there was a banging at the door. Jumping up he grabbed his firearm from the
bedside table and headed towards it. He was fairly sure it was the team. Russian mobsters didn’t knock before they killed you. Looking through the peephole he saw Daniel. He cracked the door and lifted his finger for them to be quiet. Daniel, Drew, Will, Zin, and Mustique filed in.
Zin looked him over with a look that could freeze lava before shaking his head.
Kanan frowned and glared back. “What’s your problem?” K snarled. He didn’t need Zin’s attitude right now.
Zin walked up to him while Kanan held his ground, hands on hips. He wouldn’t let this cold Russian asshole intimidate him when he was doing the unspeakable with his sister. “Nice boxers,” Zin sneered and Kanan looked down realising he was standing there in his Scooby Doo boxers.
“Fuck off, Zin or I’ll tell Celeste you're replacing Samson’s fillet steak with the cheap stuff.” He laughed as the tall, broad-shouldered mountain of a man paled.
“You wouldn’t?”
Kanan raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I would.”
“Fine. How is my sister?”
Kanan walked to the bed and grabbed his jeans and Henley thermal. He dressed quickly and sat beside Roz on the bed.
Daniel had ignored their squabbling as he called it and had begun getting his kit ready, so he could examine Roz. Will and Drew were sweeping the room and Mustique was standing off to the side looking like a contained ball of dynamite.
That was the thing with Roz, she inspired loyalty with her girls because she truly cared for them, and in return, they gave her their loyalty and love.
K and Zin watched as Daniel took her temperature and frowned before pulling the sheet back exposing her flat abdomen. He hated that the other men were seeing her like this, but when he looked up he realised that Drew and Will had turned their backs to give her some privacy.
Once again K was reminded how different these men were from the ones he had worked with so often over the years. Despite their
training, they were still gentlemen. Daniel removed the bandage and gently prodded at her wound. Much to Kanan’s horror, it was pink and angry looking, and his fear was confirmed when Daniel spoke.
“She has an infection setting in. I need to sew this wound and get some stronger, more targeted antibiotics into her. What have you given her so far, and when?” Kanan recited what she had been given, and Daniel nodded. “That’s good, it will have given her a fighting chance. Her wound isn’t actually too bad, infection is the biggest threat at the moment. We’ll get this drip set up, and she should be fine in a few days.”
Kanan and Zin nodded before Zin walked to Mustique and beckoned Kanan over.
“What happened?” he demanded his arms crossed over his chest.
Kanan wasn’t used to working in a team and answering to people and part of him resented it, but a bigger part was grateful. He had been alone for so long, but now he thought that maybe he had found his pack. “I arrived two days ago. Found this room, but she was already gone. I figure she was watching the Usov stronghold all this time. Her car is still back at the bottom of the mountain. I didn’t know where she was, so I waited. I was about to leave when Celeste called.”
Zin and Mustique nodded.
“What happened when you got out there?” Mustique asked.
“She was slumped over her snowmobile, covered in snow. I found the bullet wound and got her out of there. The rest you know, she hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”
They all looked to the bed, at the strongest woman they knew, and silence reigned as they watched Daniel finish up.
“Just as well, she would hate looking weak and helpless,” Mustique said softly.
“Yeah, she would probably want to shoot us all just for fussing over her,” Kanan huffed.
Zin snorted a laugh. “Best she never finds out. I would hate my Pixie to be left without us,” Zin said.
Kanan went stock still as Zin acknowledged how much she needed Kanan as well as him. So, the bloke was a bit of an
overbearing asshole, but he loved Celeste to the point of distraction. K could live with that and if he had his way he was going to do the same with Roz if she didn’t give him a heart attack first.
Daniel walked to them. “I set up the antibiotic drip and closed her wound with a few stitches. We need to set up a plan of action.”
“I want her out of here,” Kanan said categorically. Mustique shook her head while Zin stayed silent. He could see the man was torn.
“No way, she came here for a reason, if you ship her home she will resent you for it and disappear. If you want to help her, stay, and follow this through with her. But take her home and you will lose her. She will see it as a betrayal,” Mustique finished and walking to the bed, she knelt down and touched Roz’ hand whispering something to her sleeping form.
“I hate to say it because God knows I want her safe too, but she’s right. We need to see this through if we want her safe.”
Kanan remained silent as the others agreed. He had to fight the urge to pick her up and run with her back to his island where they had been happy. They were right though, his Kitten would see it as a sign that they thought she was weak or they saw her that way, and he would lose her anyway.
What did surprise K though was that Zin was deferring to him on this. He didn’t have a choice, did he?
“Fine, we stay and finish this,” he said, cold, hard determination in his voice.
“Okay then,” Daniel replied.
K realised that although he hadn’t been obvious about it, Daniel was running point on this. His leadership style was so different from Zack’s that he hadn’t realised it through his tiredness. Daniel had controlled the whole thing and had made it seem that he hadn’t. It was very clever, he respected the man for it.
“We’ll be in our rooms, on either side of this one. Will and Drew have installed some security trips on the windows, and a camera on the exits. We have things covered for now and it should buy us some time until she is on her feet,” Daniel said as he looked at Roz.
Kanan nodded as his brain ran through things they needed to do. “What about her car? We can’t have it found. If we are lucky the
storm will have helped.”
“Zin, Mustique, can you go and retrieve the car or torch it? Get rid of all traces of her from there, including fingerprints or DNA. We need as much time as we can buy,” Daniel said.
“We’ll go now,” Zin said to Daniel as he and Mustique left but not before casting a look at Roz.
If only she knew how loved she was K thought as he showed them out. Locking the door, he returned to the bed to check her. Leaving the bathroom door open so he could listen for her, he took a lukewarm shower.
Showering quickly, he ignored his body’s natural response to being in the vicinity of Roz and dried himself before putting on clean, black boxers and slipping into bed beside her. He would probably get a punch in the face for being in her bed, but he was willing to take the chance, and anyway, it was to keep her warm he told himself.
Yeahright,shewasgoingtokickhisass. The thought made him smile.
Chapter Three
Roz felt the safe haven of a strong body at her back and snuggled back into the warmth. Even in her drug-induced haze, she knew who it was. Only one man had ever had that effect on her—Kanan. He made her feel precious and small, but not weak or frightened, at least not in the true sense. The danger from this man wasn’t to her physical wellbeing nor was it from cruelty.
No, the danger where K was concerned was that her heart might thaw, and she couldn’t afford to let that happen. If it did, she would feel again and that was not something she could risk. She could enjoy it for a minute though.
Finally, her bladder started screaming for mercy as she came fully awake. Moving the heavy arm that was around her middle she tried to creep from the bed, ripping the cannula from her hand as she did and biting her lip as pain from her abdomen made her want to cry out.
She had nearly made it when a strong, quick hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Instantly she went on the offensive wrenching her arm away and spinning away from his touch. A hiss left her as pain shot through her.
“Hey, Kitten, it’s only me.” The softness of his words cut through making her want to lash out at him for making her weak.
“I know who it is, asshole,” she spat, as she avoided his gaze. She heard a chuckle as her head shot up in feminine indignation. Her heart clutched at the sight of him. He was too fucking beautiful for his own good.
Tall, lean, muscular, but not too bulky. His dark hair mussed from sleep, his gorgeous hazel eyes rimmed with amber towards the irises. She felt her eyes travel over him taking in all the beauty that was Kanan. The tattoo on his left bicep of a Celtic cross and a new one on his chest of a lone arctic wolf. Her breath hitched at the meaning behind the wolf. It was the Zenobi symbol and she knew in her heart why he had had it done. It was stunning. Her hands itched
to touch it, to run her fingers over every line. Finally, her eyes travelled lower, brazenly taking in the sexy v that led into his boxer shorts.
“See something you like, Kitten?” His voice had lost the chuckle and now sounded deep and husky, and it made her body flare. She shut it down angrily, furious that she had let him affect her like this. Raising her eyes slowly to give herself some time, she met his slumberous gaze with her hard one.
“Not really, just wondering when you stopped going to the gym. You’re starting to get flabby, K.” she said as she turned quickly towards the bathroom. She heard him laugh and she felt her temper flare to life.
Before she could react though, a wave of dizziness hit her hard, making her grab for the wall. Before she had even moved to catch herself, he was there, his arms around her, holding her up.
“Wow, Kitten, you had a nasty gunshot and you need to take it easy.” She hated that she needed him, but she had to acknowledge inwardly that at the moment she did. Maybe after some more sleep and a meal she could give him the slip and continue her mission.
She allowed him to help her to the bathroom with only a few muffled grumbles.
He helped her in, then left closing the door. “Don’t lock it, Roz.” he barked making her glare at the door.
Using the toilet, she then washed her hands. Roz hated that she felt so weak, but her energy was gone already with just that little bit of exertion.
Opening the door, she shot fire from her eyes at K who was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his gorgeous bronze chest. He reached for her wrapping an arm around her as he led her back towards the bed.
“Don’t worry, Kitten, you’ll soon be back to kicking my ass,” he grinned.
“Don’t flatter yourself, I could kick it now if I wanted to, I just can’t be bothered.”
“Okay, Kitten,” he murmured and she wanted to smack the patronising words off his handsome face. Never in her life had she
met a man that drove her so insane. One minute she wanted to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree, the next she wanted to punch him in the face.
Climbing into bed she slapped his hands away as he tried to tuck her in. “Stop fussing,” she demanded.
He sighed and walked around the bottom of the bed and pulled the sheet up to climb in beside her.
“Um what the hell are you doing?” she asked coldly.
He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “What does it look like, I’m getting into bed.”
“Not in here you’re not,” she said making a grab for the blanket.
“Yes, I am,” he growled, pulling it back.
“I will shoot you,” she huffed folding her arms over her chest.
She watched his eyes drop to her cleavage briefly before they came back to her face. He looked at her closely before putting one knee on the bed and prowling closer until he was nose to nose with her. Standing her ground, she held his gaze even while her heart began to beat faster.
“I am getting in this bed and going to sleep, Roz. You can either shoot me or get over yourself. Or don’t you trust yourself to keep your hands to yourself?” He crooked an eyebrow and shot her a smirk.
Her temper, which was so calm and controlled that it was legendary, hit boiling point so fast that she spluttered to get words out. Breathing deeply, she sent him a cold hate-filled look and then turned on her side, away from him with a huff.
“Fuck you, I can trust myself, I just don’t want you pawing all over me again.” She saw hurt flash through his eyes and felt guilty but stamped it down. It was good she hurt him, she didn’t need him getting under skin again. He grabbed a pillow and a spare blanket from the bottom of the bed and shot her a look filled with fire.
“Don’t worry, Kitten, I won’t subject you to my pawing,” he said snidely as she watched him walk to the tiny couch, hating that it was on the tip of her tongue to say sorry. She didn’t saysorry, she didn’t feelguilty. His next words made it so much easier. “At least not until you beg me to.”
“Ha! Dream on buddy,” she laughed humourlessly.
“Oh, I do sweetheart. I do.”
The light was turned off and she heard him tossing and turning as he tried to get comfy on the small couch. Snuggling lower she listened until sleep tugged at her. As she was slipping into a slumber she thought she heard him say, “God woman! Why do I letyou do this to me? I must be certifiable to keep banging my headagainst thewall.”
All she could think as she slipped under was, don’t give up on me.
Chapter Four
Tossing and turning on the tiny lumpy couch, Kanan tried to get comfortable while tugging the sheet, if you could call it that, over his large body. He listened as Roz shifted on the bed knowing that she was still awake.
He was angry over her words, but not at her. No, he was angry because he had let her get away with pushing him away for so long. He had thought that she just needed time, weeks had turned into months, then months into years, and like a soft prick, he had let her put her shields back in place.
Her heart was now so firmly locked back under a fortress of ice that it would take an inferno to melt. Just as well that his feelings for her were molten hot. He grinned at his musings.
He, more than anyone, knew what she had been through and had seen the woman it had made her. He had fallen for the girl first, but then five years ago he had fallen for the woman. He had thought he was getting somewhere, she had shown him a side of her that nobody else had ever seen. A softness, a vulnerability, and a sweetness that nobody except Zin had seen, and then just as he had been about to tell her how he’d felt, she had disappeared.
In his hurt he had let her go, let her walk away from what they shared. He had been a fool. A stupid, stubborn fool. Roz thought that she could push him away and use words to make him leave her, what she didn’t realise was that he couldn’t. She was the other half of his whole, he needed her in all her facets, the bitch, the warrior, the assassin, the protective boss, the loving sister, the beautiful lover, and the loyal friend. He wanted it all and he wasn’t walking away until she saw that they belonged together, she was not getting rid of him.
Stretching his legs, he heard her breathing deepen as she fell asleep. What his kitten didn’t seem to understand was that she was safe with him, she knew it subconsciously, otherwise she would
never have fallen asleep like she had, leaving herself vulnerable to him.
With a smile, he settled, closing his eyes, and tried again to get some rest.
His eyes shot open as he felt a movement by his head. Whirling, he jumped from the couch pinning the body against the wall. Hearing a soft whimper, he pushed back and saw Roz dressed and heading for the door.
Keeping her pinned with his body he grasped the hands that swung at him and turned his body slightly knowing full well that a cheap groin shot was not against her principles.
“Where the fuck are you going, Kitten?” His voice came out gravely and soft, but his words held contained fury. Bucking against him she tried to get free and he swore under his breath. “Cut it out or you’re going to rip your stitches.”
“Get off me, K. You have no right to keep me here.”
“The fuck I do. You almost got yourself fucking killed. If I hadn’t found you… Fuck,” he bit off angrily as he released her and pushed away from the wall allowing her to move. How could she not see what the thought of losing her did to him? They were both breathing hard as they glared at each other, passion and anger flowed through his veins. He watched as her tongue came out to swipe her lip. He made her nervous—not in the conventional sense because she thought he would hurt her, no it was because she knew he could break down her walls and it scared her senseless.
“If you hadn’t found me I would have been fine,” she denied hotly. “I just needed to rest.”
A humourless chuckle escaped him as he glared at her and shook his head. “Do you hear yourself, Roz? You are so scared of letting anyone close that you can’t even accept when someone has done something for you. Even something like saving your ass. I have no idea why I let you do this to me,” he said sadly knowing full well that he did. She just wasn’t ready to hear it.
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XXXIX
WITHOUT FEAR AND WITHOUT STAIN
N made no further show of resistance to the inevitable, but accompanied the excited clerks into Fleet Street. The window of his room abutting on to it had already attracted the notice of the crowd that thronged its pavements. By the time he had crossed to the other side of the road and had taken up his stand with the knot of spectators that was rapidly assembling at the end of a bystreet, the smoke had increased considerably in volume.
“Not much doubt about there being a fire,” was the verdict of those around him.
The bunch of witnesses in the side street increased every instant. Persons riding on the outsides of the omnibuses stood up to look. Policemen on point-duty came out of the press of the traffic to gaze with concern and inquiry at the smoke which now was belching forth in a black mass.
“Must ha’ begun in the chimbley,” said one of Northcote’s neighbors, a man without a collar. “That’s soot.”
“It’s Pearmain’s Hotel,” said another.
“No,” said a third, “it’s Shepherd’s Inn.”
“If it’s Shepherd’s Inn it will take it all,” said a fourth. “It has been condemned by the County Council for the past two years. It is so crazy it can hardly stand up in a gale.”
“It is rotten and rat-ridden from top to bottom. It must be five hundred years old.”
“Five ’undred me leg,” said the man without a collar. “It ain’t more than two.”
“Lord Bacon lived in it, anyway.”
“Wot if he did? I tell you it ain’t more than two.”
The controversialist spat on the pavement authoritatively, and those who surrounded him, who knew he was wrong, deferred to his opinion humbly.
“There’s the flame,” said a quiet man excitedly. “Why don’t they bring the engines?”
“They want it to get a firm ’old,” said the man without a collar, “so that they can put it out in style.”
“They will have something to go at when they do come,” said a nervous man, who wore spectacles. “There it goes through the roof. Look, look, see that!”
There could be no measure of uncertainty as to the power the fire had acquired already. Smoke and flame were pouring and leaping out of the windows and through the old red tiles into the dull December sky. A stern joy held Northcote as he gazed. Every instant of delay increased his chance. It needed a holocaust to ensure his safety. He derived that thrill of impersonal satisfaction which visits a good craftsman when a work is placed before him which has been adequately planned and executed.
“The engines ought to have been round from Fenchurch Street afore now,” said one, whose mustache bristled like that of a county councillor.
“Fenchurch Street, did yer sye?” said the man without a collar. “Lord love me, they’ll send ’em round from ’Olborn.”
“They are taking a lifetime about it,” said the nervous man in a voice of intense anxiety.
However, at that moment there sounded a curious rattle of warning; policemen came running up, and immediately afterwards came the first of the engines. The crowd was now dense and the traffic was impeded. In the next few moments it had been stopped altogether and diverted into side streets. By now a large posse of constables had appeared, and they succeeded in clearing a space in which the
firemen could carry out their operations. Before the hose had been placed in position two other engines had arrived.
Northcote had managed to place himself in an admirable situation among the excited throng; and although those in front of him were somewhat roughly thrust back by the police, he was able to maintain his coign of vantage. By the time the first spray of water had been flung upon the conflagration, it had not only burnt through his room into the story beneath, but also it had spread some twenty yards along the tiles.
“If it takes to burning down, it will be awkward,” said a voice near him.
“How it is spreading! They will find it difficult to keep it off the hotel.”
Northcote, in the midst of the frenzy of destruction that possessed him, now grew conscious that a hand had gripped his arm. He managed to turn his head sideways and discovered that his old schoolfellow, Hutton, was standing next to him.
“This crazy old hole has been waiting for this,” said Hutton. “It burns like tinder. If there are any poor devils who keep there, I pity them.”
“I’m one,” said Northcote quietly.
“Well, I call that really bad luck,” said his old schoolfellow fervently. “Upon my word, it will take the whole place.”
“Job’s comforter,” said Northcote.
“I say though, it is a blaze! By Jove, it has got into the hotel! It will take half Fleet Street if they don’t look out.”
“More engines,” said Northcote with satisfaction, as their hideous rattles pierced the air. “Well, they will all be wanted.”
“I say, though,” said his companion, with the growing excitement of his surroundings communicating itself to him, “this is going to be really awful. It has got down another story, and it is certainly in the hotel, and if they don’t look out it will be in the bank.”
Although half a dozen engines had arrived by this time and the supply of water was copious, the fire had spread on all sides with
such alarming rapidity that the liquid sheets that were flung upon it seemed only to increase the virulence of the flames. The surrounding buildings were all more or less decrepit, while the old inn itself had not the slightest resistance to offer to the flames. The whole of its quadrangular roof, most of which lay behind, appeared, as far as the onlookers could discern, by now to be involved.
“There is something strange, fascinating, exhilarating,” said Northcote with a thrill of exaltation in his voice, “in witnessing a really great fire. The fire of London must have been the finest sight the world ever saw.”
“You don’t appear to mind very much about your rooms, I must say,” said his companion. “If I were looking on at the destruction of my goods and chattels and the roof that protects my head, I don’t think I should be able to raise much enthusiasm for the spectacle.”
“It will probably take half Fleet Street. What is my wretched little attic in comparison with that?”
“Somehow in the circumstances I don’t think I could play the philosopher myself.”
“It is all up with the hotel,” said Northcote. “It will be into a few of these newspaper offices before long. Conceive a holocaust that places the press of England in danger! Ha, ha, there goes the roof of my room!”
“Why, that is where the fire began! You don’t mean to say the fire began in your room?”
“Yes, that is where the fire began.”
“No! How did it begin? Were you in it when it started?”
“Yes, I was in it when it started.”
“No!”
“I started it myself.”
“Did you overturn a lamp? Or did it begin in the chimney?”
“Well, if you must know,” said Northcote, “you shall hear the true facts. A lady called upon me last evening, and very kindly stayed the night. But this morning when I wanted to turn her out she refused to go. And further, she showed temper and made herself distinctly objectionable. Therefore I lost patience with her, and being a man of my hands I twisted her neck. But when I had managed to do that— by Jove, it is into the bank! we shall soon be able to reckon the damage by a cool million and it has only just begun!—but when I had managed to twist her neck, the question arose how to get rid of her remains. You see to have her unvirtuous person found in my room would not help this career at the bar I am just about to begin. How could I get rid of the body, that was the question? Now mark the really fertile mind of genius. Why not burn down the whole place? And that, you see, is exactly what I have done, although I will admit the idea is a plagiary from that excellent old author, Charles Lamb. You remember his Chinaman who burnt down the house of his parents every time he wanted to eat roast pig?”
“Well, North, you have a pretty mind, I must say,” said his companion to whom this recital, in the circumstances which attended it, had afforded keen amusement. “But you were always a bit of a lunatic at school. Now if you had tried to persuade me that you had insured your furniture, and that you had fired your place to keep out an execution, I might have tried to swallow it.”
“That is mediocrity all over, my son,” said Northcote, linking his arm through that of his companion. “It is always craving for hard facts. It cries aloud for hard facts; they are the staff of its life, its daily bread, but you have only to present hard facts to it in a somewhat unconventional form—my God, look at the bank!—in a somewhat unconventional form, and it flings them back in your face and asks you what you take it for.”
“My dear old lunatic, what are you talking about?”
“Merely this. Your alternative of the insurance company and the furniture is ingenious but lacking in comprehensiveness. The insurance company would, after the fashion of insurance companies, have insisted on an investigation into the cause of the disaster; they
might even have preferred a charge against me to save themselves a few wretched shillings; litigation would almost certainly have ensued—there goes the roof of the hotel!—and litigation which touches myself is the last thing I should be willing to risk.”
“All this is very elaborate, North, but it is hardly convincing. Why are you so unwilling to risk litigation when your whole life—and a rather important one I expect—will be bound up in it?”
“The less my name is associated in the public mind with any shady transaction the better for my career.”
“A point of honor, North. You always had the reputation at school of being rather nice about it.”
“To be frank, it is a point of expedience, my son. Henceforward you will find the notorious ‘Cad’ Northcote without fear and without stain.”
“Why?”
“Why! Because one of these days they will make him a judge.”
THE END.
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