The bleakness of Natalia’s words and the mention of an assassin sent a chill through Ciara. Natalia had tried to have her and Beck killed. Why should she allow Natalia to affect her so much? How could her heart hurt so badly for Natalia?

  Ciara leaned forward and rested her forearms on her thighs. “Find me a gun. We can save each other.”

  “What’s to save?” Natalia looked from the chandelier to Ciara. “He took everyone important to me.”

  Ciara clenched her hands. “Put Oleg behind bars. You have to know enough to do that.”

  “Yes.” Natalia sighed, her thoughts lost behind a mask. “I know more about the business and his activities than he could possibly realize.”

  “Then do it, Natalia.” Ciara found herself wanting Natalia to get closure for the deaths of her loved ones. “Don’t let him get away with this.”

  Natalia met Ciara’s gaze again. “I thought much the same when he told me he had sent someone off to have Niko killed in prison.” She shook her head. “Then everything dropped on me when we got to the boat. A one-ton brick.” Her eyes grew redder, and she held her hand over her heart. “Here.”

  Ciara wanted to go to Natalia and hug her. Her devastating losses were too great for anyone to bear. If the assassin walked through the cabin door, it might make things worse for Natalia.

  “I truly am sorry for all we have put you through. For what I put you through.” Natalia wiped tears away with her fingertips. “I thought this a path I must make. I am a Sokolov, after all.”

  “It doesn’t mean you have to stay on that path.” Ciara tried for a little smile. “Yes, you’re a Sokolov. Just not the mob part.”

  Natalia looked at her hands and gave a mirthless laugh. “You have no idea the things I have done.”

  25

  The dead man’s eyes stared up at the rain-drenched heavens, his mouth open in a wordless cry of surprise. Beck looked to either side then pushed the body overboard.

  Blood wept down his knife, and he wiped the blade on his tactical pants before he sheathed the weapon. He slid his Glock out of the waterproof pouch in his waist pack and tightened his fingers around the grip.

  Beck moved to the lower deck door, taking care not to be seen through the window. He turned the knob and the door opened soundlessly before he cleared the hallway and slipped inside.

  Water dripped onto the floor from his clothing as he moved down the well-lit short hallway. He kept his Glock raised and ready as he peered around corners and listened for any sounds that might tell him where they could be keeping Ciara on this gigantic waste of money.

  The hallway led around supply and janitorial closets, staff quarters, a kitchen, and a service elevator. He thought about taking it to an upper floor but didn’t want to alert anyone.

  His bare feet made no sound as he worked his way toward a door at the end of the hall. He kept close to the wall. If anybody looked through the door window, he could be seen. He had to minimize the chance.

  Beck reached the door and peered through the window. A larger hallway with fine carpeting, expensive-looking light fixtures, and furniture with a vase of fresh flowers on each piece told him this must be guest accommodations.

  Again, the door opened without a sound. The Sokolovs no doubt wouldn’t tolerate squeaking hinges, the groans of metal chafing metal, or creaking wood inside the yacht. He eased through the door, leading with his weapon.

  A giant materialized from nowhere and slammed his massive fist into Beck’s face.

  Pain seared him. Stars sparked in his mind.

  Beck staggered back and almost lost control of his Glock.

  He hardly had time to recognize the threat of a boot following the fist. He dropped and rolled out of the way, barely avoiding the kick.

  Beck got a good look at the big, tattooed man—Yuri, head of the Sokolovs’ security team.

  Yuri nearly lost his footing but regained his balance. He aimed a kick at Beck’s head.

  Beck dodged the kick and went on the offense. Before the man had completed the motion, Beck slammed his left fist into Yuri’s nose while keeping hold of his weapon in his right hand.

  Blood gushed and Yuri’s eyes instantly flushed with tears. It didn’t slow him down, only served to make him more furious.

  Yuri bellowed and lunged for Beck.

  Beck wasn’t a small man by a long shot, but he was fast, much faster than Yuri.

  He ducked then swept out his leg and knocked Yuri’s feet out from under him.

  The big man dropped to his hands and knees. Beck slammed the grip of his handgun against the back of Yuri’s head.

  Yuri collapsed and went still. Beck glanced around to make sure they hadn’t attracted attention and drew out his knife. He slit Yuri’s throat.

  Beck wiped the blood on the man’s shirt then sheathed the knife. He moved on and made it past the lower deck guest staterooms to a short circular staircase to the main deck level. He made quick work of the stairs and reached the next deck. He paused long enough to sweep his gaze down another row of staterooms then started up the stairs to the upper deck.

  He reached the upper deck, and his bare feet sank into wall-to-wall cream carpeting. A closed door was on his right. The door on the left had a gap with warm yellow light leaking through, and he heard voices. He moved beside the door and listened.

  Beck heard Ciara, and relief whooshed through him. She’s alive.

  She spoke in a low voice, and he couldn’t understand what she said. Then he heard another female, and he moved in closer to the door.

  He peered in through the gap, his weapon raised, and his sights rested on Natalia Sokolov.

  Natalia looked down as she said, “You have no idea the things I have done.”

  Beck started to shove the door open but halted when Ciara got up and walked to Natalia. Ciara sat close to her murdering ex’s twin. She wrapped her arm around the shoulders of one of the people responsible for nearly killing them multiple times.

  No, they hadn’t been trying to murder Ciara. They’d tried to kill Beck.

  A chill washed over him. Had Ciara been playing him this entire time? Why? How? Maybe she and Natalia had planned this all along.

  That doesn’t make sense.

  But neither did seeing Ciara hugging the enemy.

  Beck sure as hell would demand an explanation from Ciara so that he might understand what the fuck was going on.

  He started to push open the door.

  A hard object slammed against the back of his skull.

  Pain splintered his head as if shattering into a thousand shards.

  He fell forward and crashed into the door. He dropped to his hands and knees inside the stateroom.

  A man slammed his boot into Beck’s hand and pain screamed through him as bones broke and his gun went flying across the carpet.

  He landed a kick to Beck’s kidney.

  Nausea rolled through Beck and bile threatened to come up.

  He tried to get up, but a boot hit him squarely against his solar plexus.

  Beck coughed. Tasted blood. His vision blurred even more.

  A scream from inside the room.

  A shot.

  Beck shook his head, looked up and through his blurred vision saw the man who had chased them through the street fair and the parade.

  “Vadim!” Natalia shouted. “No!”

  Beck fought for consciousness. He had to get up. Had to save Ciara.

  Vadim. The assassin.

  Blood rolled down Vadim’s bare arm. One of the women must have shot him.

  Vadim raised his weapon and aimed it in the direction Ciara and Natalia had been sitting.

  The assassin had attached a silencer to his gun, so the shot Beck had heard hadn’t been Vadim’s.

  Everything flashed through Beck’s mind in the space of a few seconds.

  He surged to his feet. The assassin’s weapon made a spitting sound just as Beck tackled him.

  Another scream.

  They crashed into a table. Wood splintered. Glass shattered.

  Beck grasped Vadim’s hand, grappling for his weapon.

  Vadim kneed Beck’s chest.

  Beck let out a rush of air and spots danced in his vision.

  He dug his good fingers into Vadim’s bullet wound.

  The assassin grunted and released Beck.

  Beck’s broken hand screamed with agony, but he’d die before letting Vadim harm Ciara.

  A shot echoed in the room.

  Vadim went still.

  Natalia aiming a gun at Vadim.

  Vaguely, Beck wondered if she’d turn her gun on him and if Ciara would simply watch.

  His vision blurred. Grew dark.

  Then nothing.

  “No, no, no.” Ciara frantically searched Beck’s body but couldn’t find any bullet wounds, but blood streaked his lips. She looked at Natalia. “Grab his and Vadim’s weapons then help me with Beck.”

  Ciara had recognized the man from the street fair and Natalia had called him by name.

  Natalia collected the guns as Ciara looked around the room. “Phone. Do you have a phone?”

  “Yuri made me leave my purse. It was in there.” Natalia looked around the stateroom. “We could call from the ship. But the better option is to take our Searay to shore so you can get to a hospital sooner. It is fast. Niko taught you to pilot a boat, did he not?”

  Ciara shook her head, her heard pounding like it would explode from her chest. “Can you drive it?”

  Natalia hesitated, probably worrying she would be taken by the police. She finally nodded. “I will.”

  “Thank you.” Ciara grasped Beck under his arms. “I need your help to get Beck there.”

  “He is a big man.” Natalia started to help but paused. Ciara followed the woman’s gaze to a lump in Beck’s pocket.

  The Star of Russia?

  Without hesitation, Natalia thrust her hand inside the pocket and pulled out the felt bag. She paused just long enough to peer into it. She breathed out a sigh of relief then tucked the pouch into her own pocket.

  She met Ciara’s gaze. “We must hurry and get him to the boat.”

  Ciara turned her attention back to the man she loved. Her blood thrummed in her ears. She didn’t know what she’d do without him.

  His eyelids slowly opened. He blinked and met her gaze.

  “Thank God.” Relief made her boneless and she cupped the side of his face. “I was so afraid I’d lost you.” She gathered herself as she realized just because he was awake didn’t mean he wasn’t mortally wounded. “Were you shot? We’re going to get you to a doctor.”

  “We?” He blinked, as if trying to clear his sight.

  “Natalia and I.” She glanced to her side. Then around the room.

  Natalia was gone.

  She’d taken the broach and left.

  “Never mind.” Ciara helped Beck to his feet. She glanced at Vadim’s body before she picked up his weapon and Beck’s from where Natalia had set them. “We can’t worry about her and still get you to a hospital.”

  “I don’t need a hospital.” Beck holstered his gun then took Vadim’s, too. He looked at his broken hand and grimaced. “I suppose I do need to get this thing taken care of.”

  For one absurd moment, she wanted to laugh, and she rolled her eyes. “You think?”

  He gave a little self-deprecating smile. “I need to check to see if he has a pulse.”

  They both glanced in that direction. Ciara’s heart nearly stopped beating when she saw the formerly cream carpet soaked deep red with blood where Vadim had been lying.

  His body wasn’t there.

  A crash jerked her attention upward.

  Vadim stood in an opening where a window had once been. The storm raged behind the assassin, rain forcing its way around him, the crash of thunder louder now. He must have knocked out a pain of glass.

  A shot came from behind her, and her ears rang.

  And then Vadim was gone.

  She cut her gaze to Beck and saw his arm raised, his Glock in his good hand.

  He scowled. “I don’t know if I hit him.”

  “Let’s hurry.” Ciara glanced back at the shattered window, her heart thumping harder. “I want out of here before someone else shows up.”

  She grabbed Vadim’s weapon before Beck could stop her.

  “Hold on.” Beck still gripped his own weapon. He limped to the window, one leg apparently injured. He peered out.

  “Vadim is gone.” Beck’s jaw tensed. “Stay on guard, and don’t let go of his gun.”

  Beck regained his equilibrium and handled his 9mm on his own. “I saw the Searay on the way up, so I know where we need to go. If Natalia took it, there’s a tender on the other side.”

  They headed outside and down to the lower deck, Ciara’s spine prickling the entire way. She kept looking over her shoulder, afraid the assassin would find them and kill them.

  The rain poured on them as soon as they walked out the door onto the deck.

  A crashing, whooshing sound tore through the air.

  A small explosion erupted from the direction of the bridge.

  Beck forced Ciara to the deck as debris and shrapnel flew around them.

  “Shit.” Beck helped Ciara to her feet and pointed to the starboard side of the yacht as flames spread toward them.

  Ciara stared at the fire. “Vadim must have set it.”

  The buzz of a small watercraft rose over the sound of the ocean, storm, growing flames.

  “Vadim or Natalia,” Beck said.

  Ciara shouted over the roar of the expanding fire and the pounding rain. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Beck grabbed her hand with his good one and they rushed to the side of the boat. She breathed another quick sigh of relief. A Searay boat hung from the side of the enormous yacht.

  While keeping a look out in case Vadim watched and waited nearby, Beck used his good hand to help Ciara climb into the Searay before he lowered himself into it, too.

  Beck eased the boat to the water and cut the lines with the dagger he’d had sheathed at his waist. He started the engine, and they tore away from the yacht.

  Wind, rain, and sea water splattered them and filled Ciara’s eyes as they rushed through the night.

  They had sped at least a quarter mile away from the yacht when a huge explosion lit up the night.

  Beck gunned the engine and shouted to Ciara over the noise. “We’ve got to get farther out so we don’t get hit by debris.”

  A flaming piece of wood slammed into the hull. Ciara screamed. Beck spun them in a tight arc, dislodging the debris so that it flew out into the water.

  They sped farther away until the flaming yacht became just a glowing spot on the horizon.

  Ciara sank onto a cushion on the bench seating. The storm had eased up and the rain slowed into just a heavy drizzle. Ciara didn’t care that the rain still fell. If anything, she appreciated it, as if it washed away all the pain and heartache and terror of the past weeks.

  Beck cut the engine. They had to be a couple of miles from Manhattan, the lights illuminating the night. Here darkness never truly fell.

  He came to sit beside her. Waves slapped the side of the boat, the only sound that could be heard in the stillness of the night above rain falling on the boat. In the distance the Coast Guard sirens cut the silence.

  The Coast Guard was far enough away it barely interrupted the quiet between them.

  “I saw you with Natalia. Hugging her.” Beck said the words in a way that told her whatever she said next would seal what fate had in store for them. “And the Star of Russia isn’t in my pocket.”

  She slowly nodded. “Natalia screwed up in countless ways, but I learned a lot about her today.”

  Ciara told him everything, from finding out that Natalia had released her mother and the caretaker without Oleg’s permission, to the murder of her lover, her family, and possibly her brother as well.

  “Natalia’s uncle shifted all his anger to her because she’s the reason I found out about the ledgers and the broach to begin with.” Ciara pushed her hair over her shoulder. “He now thinks I’m trivial and not worth the time and effort.” She felt relief for herself yet strangely sad for Natalia. “If Niko is dead then they don’t need to kill me. As long as they don’t think I still have the diamond broach.”

  “Natalia’s on her own now,” Beck said.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t feel bad for her, after all she did, but I do.” Ciara met Beck’s gaze. “It might sound like an excuse, but this is the world she was born into. I don’t think she’s a bad person, but she’s made bad choices.”

  He slowly shook his head. “I don’t know that I agree.”

  The boat bobbed in the waves, rocking them in an almost soothing way.

  Beck shifted and faced her. “So many thoughts went through my mind when they had you.” He grasped her hand and took it in his. “The thing I kept thinking of over and over was that I never told you I love you.” He gripped both her hands tighter. “I’ve loved you since I was a teenager. I’ll love you as long as I live.”

  Instant warmth spread through Ciara, and she threw her arms around his neck. “I love you, Beck.” Tears moistened her eyes, mixing with the rain. “I love you so much.”

  He held on tightly, and she knew he’d never let go.

  26

  Ciara rested with her head against Beck’s shoulder as they relaxed in his Rockville, Maryland home.

  When Beck held her, it was like nothing in the known universe could hurt her.

  To her complete and absolute gratefulness and pleasure, Cinderella, her black lab, lay curled up at her feet. The day Ciara officially came out of WITSEC, Beck had surprised her by bringing home Ella.

  Beck had also arranged to have Ciara’s mother moved to a care facility in Rockville later this week. She couldn’t be happier than to know she would be able to see Mamá as often as she wanted.

  “So much has happened that I can’t believe it’s been less than two weeks since that terrible night at Oleg’s and on his yacht.” Ciara snuggled up closer to him. “To say I’m glad the nightmare is over for us is the understatement of the millennium.”

  Beck rested his arm around her shoulders carefully adjusting his bandaged hand, and he brought her close. “That makes two of us, honey.”

 

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