Four days later, Daphne was going stir-crazy. She was jogging on the treadmill and working up a sweat, hoping the exercise would ease some of her stress. Every so often Nik or Kaz would stop in and make a security sweep and Rez dropped off groceries or meals for her once a day, but otherwise that was the only human contact she’d had.

Nik and Kaz’s stops weren’t so bad. At least they tried to talk with her or entertain her, but Rez always gave her the creeps. It wasn’t anything he’d done to her specifically, just the smarmy look in his eyes whenever he looked at her. Then there was the offer he’d made—saying he could give her something to help the time pass faster until the trial. She shuddered and ran faster. Daphne wasn’t sure if he was suggesting drugs or a roll in the sheets. Either way, she wasn’t going anywhere near that.

The days weren’t so bad. She could watch TV or play video games, but the nights were harder. Nik hadn’t come by for dinner since that first night, so she ate alone, staring at the walls or in front of the news downstairs. Nothing but bad news all around these days. And with no windows, her internal clock was off-kilter, causing her to get up at odd hours and fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon. Nope. Life in this safe house was not like a spa at all.

To make matters worse, she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Nik. As her feet and her heart pounded, Daphne wondered if it were possible to develop Stockholm Syndrome for a man you never saw. Sure, the few times she’d seen him he’d been charming enough and he’d always been sure to keep her updated on her mom’s well-being—fine—and dropped off her mail—the family leave paperwork had come through just like he’d said. But still she couldn’t purge her anger toward him. He’d claimed to be protecting her, but she was still stranded in this place with no way out.

The treadmill beeped loudly and slowed to a stop and she climbed back upstairs to shower and change. She should’ve paid more attention to what was being packed in her suitcase because what she had for wardrobe choices looked more like a party girl than a princess. Lots of cocktail dresses and spandex workout clothes and few comfy sweats or T-shirts and jeans. Guess that would teach her to let a mafia thug pick out her clothes. With limited options available and laundry stacked by the small washer and dryer in the downstairs bathroom, she chose a purple knit dress for the day. As she shrugged into the thing, then stared at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t help thinking of the character Joan in the Mad Men series and wishing once more for her cozy sweaters and well-worn jeans. Anything to make her feel more like herself and less like a Russian tart. She twined her hair up into a messy French twist and secured it with a pencil from her bag.

With a sigh, she walked out of the bedroom and found Rezan in the kitchen loading her groceries for the day. He didn’t say anything, just gave her a long, lascivious look before departing quickly. She finished putting the food away, then glanced into the living room. Her breath caught. The apartment door was slightly ajar. Normally, Nik and Kaz were very careful to ensure it was locked at all times, but apparently Rez was not so careful. Or he’d left it open on purpose to lure her out to him. Ugh. She couldn’t worry about that now. Not with freedom so tantalizingly close. She could get out, maybe find a way to call a cab and get over to see her mother—if she could get past the guards Nik had stationed there to protect her mother—then get somewhere safe where the Bratva couldn’t find her.

She went back into the bedroom and grabbed her purse and useless phone from its charger, then slowly eased the front door open. Surprisingly, the lounge area was empty. After easing the apartment door shut behind her, she rushed over to the metal door leading out to the pawn shop and eased that one open as well. Through the crack she saw Mohawk girl back behind the counter, chatting with some punk high school kid. Several other kids milled about the store, going through the racks of vintage clothes and cooing over the jewelry case. Seizing the opportunity for distraction, Daphne snuck out and hid behind a nearby case of used guitars and other instruments for sale. Breath held, she eased her way toward the front door, her gaze darting and her nerves on edge. She constantly checked over her shoulder to make sure no one was following, her pulse pounding loud in her ears and her mouth dry as cotton. Finally, she got to the exit and darted out as another group of teens walked in. She had no idea what time it was, but it must’ve been mid-afternoon if the kids were out of school.

Once on the sidewalk, she quickly headed for the busy street nearby and pulled out her cell phone. Yep. Three-thirty p.m. At the corner, she hailed a cab and gave the driver directions to her mother’s nursing home. It wasn’t until they’d gotten several miles away before she relaxed and could breathe normally again. She’d done it. She’d gotten out. Now, all she had to do was stay out of that windowless shoebox until the trial. And yes, safety was an issue, but then again, perhaps Nik had been exaggerating a tiny bit. Sure, Hornbull had shown up that day on the street, but maybe he’d only been drawn there by the crowds of onlookers watching Nik cart her down the street like a sack of potatoes.

The car pulled up in front of the Arbor Glen Retirement and Rehab center on Chicago’s northeast side about half an hour later. Daphne paid the driver and got out, careful to make sure she didn’t spot Nik or Kaz in the parking lot before rushing inside the automated front doors and into the lobby. She was actually glad she’d worn the purple dress now. It wasn’t her usual style, nor was wearing her hair up, so hopefully it would be enough to keep her from being recognized by the guards Nik had said were stationed around the nursing home. She kept her head down as she hurried through the maze of hallways, dodging nursing staff and residents with wheelchairs and walkers until she reached the dementia ward near the back of the place. She signed in at the desk then headed to her mother’s room. Inside, her mom sat in the same rocking chair in front of the windows where Daphne always found her, mumbling to herself as she stared out the window, her knitting strewn across her lap. She noticed the array of fresh cut flowers on the shelf by the bedside. Guess Nik had told her the truth after all about her mom being well looked after. Her heart warmed a bit, before she shoved her unwanted tenderness toward the guy aside.

Funny how most days her mom couldn’t remember her own daughter’s name, yet the intricacies of knitting stayed with her. Dementia was a cruel disease.

She closed the door behind her and walked over to pull a chair up beside her mom’s. “Hi, Mama.”

Sharon Allman looked over at her daughter, her gray eyes blank and her mouth slack. Not a spark of recognition at all. If Daphne closed her eyes she could still picture that day when she’d been seven and one of her friends came over to play. Her mom had been going through a manic phase of her bi-polar depression and she’d been a basket case. So much so that she’d scared off Daphne’s friend and left her alone to deal with her mother’s mess. That whole thing had left her permanently shaken and ever since had left her longing for a safe, calm, reliable person to care for her. The kind of person she tried to be for her mom.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing all right, Mama.” Daphne picked up the knitting and looked at it. “What are you making?”

A nurse came in to clean, propping the door open and setting Daphne’s nerves on alert. People passed by in the hallway and she constantly kept checking to make sure she hadn’t been spotted. She ran her fingers over the soft pastel pink lace and smiled, fighting back the sting of unshed tears. “I’m sorry I missed visiting you the past couple of days. I’ve been… busy.”

Sharon frowned, snatching back her knitting. “That’s mine.”

“I know, Mama,” Daphne said, swiping her hand over her damp cheeks,

“Who are you?” her mother asked, frowning.

“I’m Daphne, Mama. Your daughter.” The nurse across the room caught her eye and gave her a small, sad smile. “Remember?”

“My daughter?”

“Ah, there you are, darling.” Startled, Daphne looked up to see Nik striding across the room toward her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He took her by the arm and pulled her to her feet. “We need to leave now or were going to be late.” Nik sent the nurse a killer smile and she giggled, either not noticing or not caring about Nik’s mafia tattoos and what they meant. Daphne rolled her eyes. “So nice to see you again, Mama.”

Sharon looked up at him and scowled. “Who the hell are you?”

Daphne opened her mouth to answer, but never got the chance. Nik hauled her out into the bustling hallway again, his grip tight on her arm as he led her toward the nearest exit. Fury was etched into his tight jaw and steely stare. “What the hell were you thinking, putting yourself in danger like that?”

“My mother needs me, dammit!” She tried to free herself, to no avail. “I told you I can’t just up and leave for five weeks. And I need to say goodbye to her before we leave. Where are you taking me now? Maximum security prison?”

Nik ignored her sarcastic comment as they barreled outside and over to a waiting car. “I’m sorry, but she won’t even remember you were there an hour from now,” he hissed at her. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

“What the—” Her speech was cut off as Nik shoved her into the back seat of the car then followed in behind her. Before she’d even sat properly, Kaz was back behind the wheel and they were peeling out of the parking lot at top speed. “What the hell is going on?”

“See that car?” Nik pointed out the back window at a gray sedan behind them. “That’s one of Hornbull’s snitches. I’m guessing he’s been here the whole time. Probably saw you arrive. Now he wants to follow us back to the safe house so he can report back to his boss with your location. That’s what’s fucking going on.” He said something in rapid-fire Russian to Kaz then slumped back into his seat and pulled out his phone, his thumbs flying across the screen as he typed, blocking her out completely.

The car made a hard right, then a hard left, sending Daphne careening into Nik’s side before she righted herself. He still didn’t look up from his stupid phone. Just kept typing, typing, typing. “Where are you taking me? Not back to the safe house if he’s following us.”

“No. Not there.” Nik’s tone sound tough as granite. “It’s no longer safe. And since I can’t trust you to obey my orders, you’ll be coming with me to a hotel outside the city until we make sure things are secure again.”

Soon they hit rush hour traffic and their progress slowed to a crawl. Kaz kept cursing in Russian and making rude finger gestures to neighboring motorists when they tried to cut in front of him while Nik finally looked up from his phone every so often to scan the area around the Bentley. All of it only put Daphne’s nerves more on edge.

She tucked her arms tighter around herself in the corner of the seat and stared out the passenger side window at the gridlock. Nothing but cars as far as the eye could see. One in particular caught her eye, a black SUV with dark tinted windows, just like the one from outside her apartment building earlier in the week and…

“Oh, God! Is that Nolan Hornbull following us?” She frantically tapped on the glass.

Nik frowned over at her. “Where?”

“There.” She pointed to the SUV. “It looks just like the one that pulled up the day the cops stopped us.”

He leaned past her to get a better look, surrounding her with his heat and scent—musk and vanilla and soap. She shuddered and he glanced sideways to catch her eye, his look far too knowing for her comfort. At her shiver, he sat back in his seat and started typing on his phone again, not looking up as he said to Kaz, “Take the next exit.”

His brother gave him a questioning stare in the rearview mirror, one dark brow raised, but did as he was told, merging into the other lane then letting a string of expletives fly when the other driver beside him objected.

“Where are we going now?” Daphne asked, attempting to peek at Nik’s phone screen.

“I doubt that SUV belongs to Hornbull, but I can’t be sure. Therefore, it’s best we slip under the radar and lay low for the night.” He clicked off his phone and slipped it into the pocket of his crisp gray suit jacket then crossed his arms. “I have just made us reservations at the Great 8 Motel.”

“The Great 8?” Her flat tone sounded about as enthused as she felt. “Wasn’t that place just cited for health code violations?”

“Which they have since cleaned up.” Nik’s gaze remained straight ahead, indicating the subject was not up for discussion. “It is done.”

A smart woman would’ve let the matter go. Too bad Daphne wasn’t feeling like a genius at the moment. “I’m not staying there. They had bedbugs and mold and—”

“You gave up your right to a vote in this situation when you blatantly disregarded my direct orders and put both yourself and the lives of my men at risk.” His hard, stone-cold voice sounded positively flinty. “The time for your objections is over. As of now, if you want to remain alive, you will do what I say, when I say it, no questions asked. For all I know, Hornbull could be pulling in closer behind us as we speak. He could have a firearm, a knife, anything to kill you with. You perhaps prefer I let you out here, on the side of the road and you can take your chances with him?”

She seriously considered telling him to open the door. He wouldn’t though, would he? Because he needed her to testify in his friend’s murder trial. She told him as much, calling his bluff. “You need me as much as I need you. You won’t let me go.”

Nik’s hands clenched in his lap, his knuckles turning white and making his tattoos stand out in stark relief before he flexed his fingers to relax them, the only outward sign of his inner turmoil. He still didn’t look at her. “How long until we get to the motel?”

Kaz finally made it over to the exit ramp and they began moving at a faster clip again. “Five minutes, tops,” he said.

“Perfect.” His tone suggested the exact opposite and Daphne’s heart sank. She’d been so sure when she’d snuck out of the safe house that she’d been doing the right thing, taking control of her destiny. Now she could see what a bad idea it had been, but she still couldn’t say it would’ve stopped her. She’d been so desperate to see her mother, to see the blue sky above, even if only briefly. As they pulled up to the run-down motel with its peeling paint and half-lit neon sign out front, she almost wished for the comfort and security of her windowless apartment behind the pawn shop.

“Stay here,” Nik ordered, climbing out of the vehicle and walking into the motel office. Kaz remained behind the wheel, fiddling with the radio then tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the countrified crap tune playing over the airwaves. Through the front windows of the office, she saw Nik speaking with an obese guy in a stained white wife-beater tank top, a half-chewed cigar hanging out of his slack lips. The guy pointed and shrugged, then visibly recoiled as Nik pulled back his suit jacket to reveal the weapon Daphne knew was holstered there. Typical. She crossed her arms and looked away, disgusted. Just like a mafia thug to use intimidation to get what he wanted. Never mind she’d actually come to like Nik over the past few days she’d been his unwilling guest. He’d been nothing but kind and helpful and even relaxed and fun to be around when they were alone in the safe house apartment talking or watching TV or whatever. In fact, if circumstances were different and she’d met Nik at a club and not because she was his prime witness, she would’ve been attracted to him. Okay, fine. More than attracted.

She shook off the silly idea. Circumstances were different and she had no business getting involved with a dangerous man like Nik Volkov, no matter how gorgeous and tempting.

Minutes later he climbed back into the car, a plastic keycard in his hand, and directed Kaz to pull around to the far side of the building. “According to our registration for this room, we are married. You will act as such whenever others are around.”

“Fine.” She pressed herself against her side of the vehicle, wanting to put as much space between them as possible. “We’ve certainly got the old married couple bickering part down pat.”

Nik scowled and Kaz snorted.

Once they were in the room, Daphne was at least relieved to find Nik had been right. The room did look freshly cleaned and renovated, despite the seen-better-days appearance of the exterior. Kaz spoke briefly with Nik in hushed Russian before leaving, the door closing definitively behind him, leaving just her and Nik to stare at each other from across the one queen-sized bed in the room. There was a dresser with a TV on top, a small round table and two chairs and a luggage rack. That was it.

Finally, Nik turned away, removing his suit jacket and loosening his tie, mumbling to himself under his breath in words she didn’t quite catch while Daphne did her best not to notice the way his white cotton shirt stretched enticingly over his muscled back and arms or the tantalizing hint of his tattoos through the soft material.

Flustered and overheated, she backed toward the bathroom. “I’m, um, just going to take a shower then.”

He glanced back at her over his shoulder, his green eyes narrowed. “I sent Kaz to the Walmart down the street to buy us toiletries and necessities for the night. He should be back by the time you’re done.”

“Great.” She hurried into the bathroom and locked the door behind her, jamming on the shower then leaning against the vanity to get her trembling hands under control. Being under Nik’s watchful eye was one thing. Sleeping in the same bed beside him all night would be quite another. She dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling, praying for the strength to survive the evening with her willpower intact.  

* * *

Nik was glad for some time alone, honestly. When he’d walked into that safe house and discovered Daphne missing he’d been seriously close to losing his shit. He’d searched the entire place, high and low, questioned the pawn store clerk to within an inch of her life, and ripped Rez a new one. Nothing had helped ease the coiling knot of tension in his gut. Nothing had helped until he’d found her in that goddamned nursing home and had seen for himself that she was all right. That she was alive and well and still able to testify. That Hornbull had not gotten his malicious claws on her and ripped her to shreds.

For once he thanked the Lord for his brother’s cool head and laid-back attitude. Where Nik had immediately suspected the worst, Kaz had taken things more calmly and rationally, thinking through the most logical places where Daphne had likely gone and driven him directly to the nursing home to find her. Thankfully, his men were already in place inside, to keep her from running before he got there.

But damn that snitch in the parking lot. He should’ve expected as much from Hornbull, the asshole. The guy didn’t give up. Good thing Nik was every bit as tenacious as the crooked cop was, especially when it came to justice for Tolya. And keeping Daphne safe. He sighed and sank down into one of the chairs in the room. The place was a shithole, no other way to describe it. Far from the tidy safe house and even farther from his luxurious penthouse suite on the Magnificent Mile, overlooking Lake Michigan. Still, it would be about the most secure place in Chicago once Nik had his men patrolling the perimeter of the establishment and stationed in the office.

He checked his phone again for messages and found none, then plugged the device into its charger on the nightstand beside him, right next to his holstered weapon which he never let far from his sights these days. That black SUV on the roadway on their way here still bothered him. Not because he feared he couldn’t handle Hornbull in a direct confrontation, but because when he was around Daphne all of his senses were attuned to her, to the exclusion of everything else. A dangerous prospect in times like these. The fact that she’d been so reckless and put herself in harm’s way still pissed him off, but not nearly as much as the fact that he’d all but laid a direct path for that asshole Hornbull to find them in his desperation to get to Daphne and keep her safe. Throw the enemy off your trail was one of the first lessons he’d learned after joining the Bratva as a brash nineteen-year-old after his release from jail. And dammit if all his training didn’t go right out the window whenever Daphne was around, and that was unacceptable.

He exhaled slowly and forced himself to relax, resting his head against the back of the chair.

Kaz had returned with six shopping bags full of supplies for them—including food, drinks, shampoo, conditioner, razors, shaving cream, underthings, PJs for Daphne. Nik stared at the bags on the dresser now, doing his best not to imagine her dressed in the prim white cotton bra and panties his brother had purchased using the sizes Nik had given him or, even better, in nothing at all.

Fuck. Nik rubbed his eyes, shoving the lust-inducing, erotic, completely inappropriate images now flooding his mind aside. He’d been sexually active since the age of fifteen, had slept with women ranging from the sweet girl next door to one hot stripper who’d shown world-wise Nik a thing or two about life and love. He knew better than to get involved with a woman like Daphne, a woman who practically screamed commitment. Still knowing better and doing better were two different things, especially when his too-long-neglected cock got involved. He exhaled slowly and shook his head, adjusting his position to accommodate his rapidly hardening body. There was something about Daphne—her soft curves, her smart mouth, and pretty blue eyes—that made him want her so bad he ached. Therefore, he’d done his best to remain distant, especially once she’d gotten settled in the safe house.

It would’ve been easy, too easy, to lose himself and let his guard down around her, especially since she seemed to bring out his tender, caring, considerate side. Fresh memories of his parents and their loving relationship drifted back. If he wasn’t careful, he’d start picturing himself and Daphne in the same kind of love affair.

And that would be bad, very, very bad.

Yet, it felt so good. Very, very good.

The sound of running water from her shower hummed pleasantly around him and he couldn’t help thinking about her all naked and slick and warm. If things between them were different, perhaps he’d join her, rubbing himself against all her wet curves, taking her against the wet, tile wall, sinking so deeply inside her tight hotness, her body squeezing around him as she climaxed hard, yelling his name…

The water shut off and Nik opened his eyes, his breath heavy and his hard cock tenting the front of his slacks. Shit. Irritated at himself, he pushed out of the chair and stalked to the windows, parting the thick, drawn curtains to stare out at the busy street in the distance. Enough of this craziness. Nothing would happen between them because nothing could happen between them. Business was business and love was love. The two should never, ever mix.

Behind him the bathroom door opened and Nik swiveled to find a pink-cheeked Daphne staring at him, two white towels the only things covering her—one around her head like a turban and one wrapped around her delectable body—and all his good intentions flew right out the window.

Nik stayed near the curtains and took a deep breath, looking away fast and using the heavy fabric to hide his obvious arousal. He pointed at the bags on the dresser. “Clothes, for you,” he grunted, caveman-style. “Take what you need.”

She stared at him a moment longer, eyes wide with a hint of answering heat flickering in their depths before she rushed over and grabbed the underthings and PJs from the bags then rushed back into the bathroom. Nik didn’t turn around again until he heard the door close behind her.

The scent of steam and soap and the sound of Daphne’s humming wafted over to him and caused his already rigid body to tighten further. His heart pounded and sweat cooled on his forehead. He clenched his hands at his sides to hide their shaking. One glance. One glance at her rosy complexion and dewy skin and that had been enough to bring him, a hardened criminal and experienced man, to his knees. He’d wanted to take her into his arms, kiss her until she begged for more, taste her skin, her lips, the wetness between her legs. He’d wanted to promise her anything in the world, including his undying care and devotion, for the pleasure of her body in his arms. It was insane. It was impossible. It was… so damned hard not to stalk across the room, bust down that damned door and take her right there atop the bathroom vanity until she cried out his name in endless ecstasy…

Snarling, Nik slammed his fist against the wall and closed his eyes, jaw tense and muscles twitching. They were stuck together until morning in this cramped room. Time to man up and act like the responsible, hard core leader he was, not some silly, lovesick schoolboy ready to cum in his pants at the very sight of a beautiful woman.

Cursing under his breath, he walked over to the dresser and rummaged through the bags to pull out a bottled water and a box of pain relievers. Not exactly the vodka he wanted, but it was the best he had at present. After downing a couple of pills to ease the pounding in his head, Nik pulled out a bag of chips and a candy bar then settled himself at the table once more to eat while she finished changing. Once Daphne was done in the bathroom, he’d take his own shower—an ice cold one, to get his damned body back under control.  

As he devoured his makeshift meal and stared at some stupid sitcom on the TV, he said a silent prayer for fortitude to remain honorable throughout the long night stretching before them. For it would take every ounce of willpower he possessed to stay true to his principles and not let his libido get the better of him.