Ultimate Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 4)(33)

Sacha shuddered and was suddenly glad the Neanderthal was with her. “Thank you. And I thank you on behalf of the parents of my children. They would be grateful to know you possibly saved their babies from…that.” Your boss is one of those parents.

“You do not thank me, Ms. Urusski.”

“I am Sacha, and I just did.” She stopped at a crosswalk and waited for the symbol to change. And for her heart rate to slow. They had crossed to the other side of the street before he spoke again.

“Alek will be with Maksim, not Mr. Tarasov.”

She looked up and watched Grigori look in every direction without making it obvious he was looking in every direction. He didn’t seem aware of her.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

But he was.

As they approached home, Sacha glanced into the opening between the panels closing Lekzi in and saw the zipper of her snowsuit was digging into the sensitive skin of her neck. Slowing, she reached in and pulled it down, noting those crystalline eyes Sacha was still able to look into every day were droopy and unfocused. Leaving her to her coming snooze, Sacha moved up the line to right Olivia’s hat and pull the little one’s mitten on more securely when she saw a portion of skin visible at her wrist. The little girl looked up at Sacha and showed off a mouthful of teeth when she grinned.

“Another one has come up?” she gasped in mock surprise as she tickled the one-year-old behind the ear. “You will be doing toothpaste adds in no time.” She stepped back behind the stroller and pushed to gain speed—

Her right foot nearly slid out from under her as she jerked to a complete stop.

“Ah, there they are,” Grigori said as if it was a good thing. “It seems your wait is over.”





EIGHT




Had Sacha been alone, she knew she’d have whimpered out loud. In fear or appreciation, she wasn’t…okay, it would be in both because she was smart and a masochist.

Wearing a black overcoat over his suit, Alekzander stood thirty feet ahead, right in the middle of the sidewalk. He had his hands clasped behind his back. His head was bowed slightly. And his focus was centered directly on her. She felt the pull immediately. The one she wanted to deny having felt last night but couldn’t. It was that invisible draw that had always been between them. Even from this far away she experienced the power he emanated, the sex, the danger.

A buzz shot through her when he brought his hands around and buried them in the pockets of his coat as he started toward her. She wanted to turn and run but couldn’t because of the children.

One of which is his!

She tore her eyes from the familiarity of that confident walk—no, he didn’t walk, he prowled—to see her daughter was asleep. But would she stay that way now that the lulling movement of the stroller had stopped?

Quickly, hands trembling, Sacha pulled the panel further down and tucked the blanket up so that Lekzi was nearly covered. All Sacha could see were two closed eyes and a button nose. Her other two charges happily kicked their legs and continued chatting to each other, for which she was grateful. Had they been fussing or crying she mostly likely would have fallen to her knees and joined them.

She heard his footfalls as he reached her, and then saw the polished Italian leather of the same type of shoe she’d tripped over countless times when entering their apartment. He’d had a terrible habit of taking them off the moment he walked through the door. When I walk into our home, I’m too distracted by what’s in it to pay much attention to where I leave my shoes. Naturally, she’d melted at his response to her complaint and had never mentioned it again. In fact, stumbling over them from then on had always given her a warm feeling inside.

There was no warmth in her now. Only fear, dread, animosity, and…other stuff. She braced herself, fighting for calm, and raised her eyes.

It was as if someone reached into her chest and squeezed her heart with all their might. For the first time in sixteen months, in the cold light of day, Sacha was looking directly into the face of the man she’d fallen in love with at first glance. The man she’d thought was her soulmate. The one she’d thought she would spend the rest of her life with.

But no. He’d had other plans. And those plans hadn’t included her.

The reminder had her skin shrinking. And pain, so much pain shook her as she took in the strong jaw and icy eyes, his dark blonde hair falling boyishly over his forehead. It was now longer than she ever remembered him wearing it. He looked like a rake. A playboy. Which he was, she reminded herself.

“Good morning, Sacha,”

“Good morning, Alekzander,” she returned, hating him. Hating what he made her feel. Hating what he’d done to them. Hating him because she still felt a desperate need to reach out and touch him. She wanted to part his expensive coat and burrow into his chest the way she used to. She wanted to feel secure and treasured, not off-kilter and miserable.