“Hey there, baby,” she whispered, gliding her hand over the curve of her belly.

It was definitely starting to show and she loved it. She was standing in her dance studio with her shirt pushed up and her stomach pushed out. She was admiring her profile in every angle she could crane her head. So very different from her dancing days where the girls had been competing to see who looked more svelte, whose muscles were the strongest while also the sleekest. Now, she was proud of her layered curves and growing belly. She wanted every pound and every inch.

She pulled her shirt back down and sat to pull on her toe shoes. Now that she was about to enter her second trimester she could no longer dance with the energy she once had, but she still enjoyed messing around and choreographing new steps. She reached for her iPod and flipped until she had the song that had been running through her head earlier while she was thinking about a new dance – the remixed version of Beyonce’s “Crazy in Love.” She set it on repeat and began creating the steps that played relentlessly in her head, making sure to slow them down so David wouldn’t freak out at her when he returned from town to find her dancing. He would be back in about an hour and he took her and the baby’s health quite seriously.

Natasha had been dancing for about ten minutes when the music stopped abruptly. She halted with her arms still raised and tilted her head with a frown to see what had cut short her song. She screamed. Three sinister men now filled her studio, crowding the spacious room with their deadly presence. Her eyes swept over them in shock, taking in their sudden appearance. All were tall, muscular and wearing suits. But one in particular caught her attention. The foreboding aura surrounding the Italian mafia boss was impossible to miss.

“Oh my god, Niccolo!” she shrieked, throwing herself toward him, an enthusiastic grin splitting her face.

He held a hand up, stopping her forward momentum and refusing the hug that he would have at one time gladly taken from her. His eyes travelled the length of her body, taking in the small, rounded bump of her stomach. A modicum of warmth entered his normally brutal expression when she turned sideways to proudly show him. He nodded appreciatively and said, “Congratulations, tesero.”

“Thank you!” she said with a grin, then waved him into the main part of the cabin ignoring the men that were with him. She had grown used to his muscled-up shadows over the past few years. She showed Niccolo to a comfortable chair in front of the cold fireplace and sat opposite him, giving him the space he clearly thought she should have. “So, you have found me again! Though I’m not in trouble this time. What brings you for a visit my shadowy savior?”

His dark, speculative gaze travelled over the lovely young woman, taking in every feature of his carefully plotted investment. As with many things in his life, he carefully cultivated the talents of those around him. Though Natasha was undoubtedly very talented, she had nothing much to offer a man such as the Italian. Her husband, on the other hand, did. Few guns equaled Davidov. Nic had watched the other man’s career with interest for many years, toying with the idea of stepping in much earlier. Unfortunately, the independent Russian made sure he had nothing of value in his life that could be used against him.

Until Natasha.

Nic had been generous. He had given them a honeymoon phase before stepping in. Before whispering in Natasha’s ear that perhaps her husband was cheating on her, the reason for David’s many late evenings away from their marriage bed. He had men watching as she’d followed her husband and watched him complete the Vronsky job. A job that Niccolo DeLuca had set up. His men had informed him that she had run away from her husband. Of course, Davidov would have caught up to his sweet little wife in no time if Nic hadn’t been trailing every step, covering her path.

Nic had shown his face in Natasha’s life five weeks after she’d run from her husband. She had been out of money, terrified and heartbroken. He had proclaimed himself a friend, given her a fake passport and enough money to keep her on her feet. She had questioned his generosity, but he’d made it clear she’d had no choice in the matter. A year later, when she’d found herself in a similar situation, he had once more shown up in the hovel she’d been staying and ‘rescued’ her. Natasha had been so grateful for his assistance that she hadn’t even questioned his generosity the second time. She’d been on the run in a new city. Starving because she couldn’t find a job and cold because the place she’d just moved into had the power shut off.

Nic hadn’t realized her situation had grown so dire. He’d kept his rage bottled while she’d shivered in his arms, sick from fear and cold, and told him of her hunger and desperation. Of how she almost wished David would find her and end her misery with a bullet. It was at that point in his black heart that Nic felt himself grow attached to the little ballerina. She did not deserve such cruel men in her life. But like pieces on a board, she had become his little pawn. The bait for his carefully laid trap.

After giving her another infusion of money and another untraceable passport, which would send her to Western Canada, he walked away from Natasha with the promise that they would meet again in better times. She had nodded tearfully and thanked him graciously. He had walked out of her tiny, broken down apartment and put a bullet in the man that was supposed to have been watching over the petite Russian woman. What part of desperate, but not starving to death was so hard to understand?

Several months later he made sure Davidov was tipped off to his wife’s whereabouts. Then he sat back and awaited the fireworks of reunification. Now that he had the wife in his pocket, it was time to ensure the husband’s loyalty. “It pleases me to see you so happy, Natasha.” Nic was somewhat amazed to find that he spoke the truth. Perhaps his Maria was softening him.

“Thank you, Niccolo.” She smiled softly, then she jumped to her feet. “How rude of me! Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, tesero,” Nic replied, his hard eyes flicking to his men who had stiffened at her sudden movement. “Please be seated. We have some things to discuss before your husband arrives.”

“Of course,” she agreed, sitting back down gracefully and crossing her ankles. “Please go on, Niccolo. I’m quite eager to finally find out why you became my friend over the years. I am not so naïve as to believe it was my charm and good looks.”

He chuckled, a rare smile splitting his lips, giving his dark face an even more sinister look. “Your charm is enough to slay even the darkest of hearts, Natasha tesero, but you are correct, there was always a motive behind my actions.” He told her, his accent caressing the endearment. She had once asked him what the word meant. He had shaken his head and left, patting her on the head like she was a good puppy. He was calling her ‘sweetheart’ in Italian. It would have been sexy if she weren’t head over heels in love with her husband and he weren’t one of the scariest human beings she’d ever met. There was a reason she delegated Niccolo DeLuca to benevolent older uncle position in her mind. “I needed the love of Davidov in my pocket and beholden to me.”

She nodded thoughtfully, her knowing gaze on his face. “You want him to work for you exclusively?”

He raised a thick eyebrow. “You are an intelligent woman. When did you work this out?”

She shrugged. “After you came to see me the first time. Ballerina’s don’t make friends with men like you unless sex is involved. You didn’t ask me for sex so I figured you wanted something from David. It only surprises me that it has taken you so long to come for what you want.”

“I am a patient man,” he said, his voice deep and measured.

“Apparently,” she agreed. Then she tilted her head and sighed, her hand going protectively to her stomach. She glanced over her shoulder at the two men doing their best to look inconspicuous in her country kitchen. They looked ridiculous. “Am I in danger, Niccolo? I would be very disappointed if you threatened me or my baby.”

He frowned a little and said gruffly, “Of course not, tesero. I have become somewhat attached to you. Though your husband’s services are my priority, I would not be… easy… if you were to sustain an injury.”

She beamed at him like he was some kind of good dog that had performed correctly. “Then I think we can work together!”

He frowned darkly. In his recent experience, it was not a good thing when women spoke to him like this. “Explain, Natasha,” he growled.

She glanced toward the clock on the wall. “David is going to be home soon and he probably shouldn’t find his cabin filled with strange men alone with his wife. I suspect that isn’t something that would please him. We can discuss terms along the way. I assume you intended on taking me with you, da?”

Nic continued to frown, but got to his feet. He automatically reached out to help Natasha, but thought better of it. She popped easily up, graceful as the dancer she was and twirled toward the table. His men eyed her with mistrust. He didn’t blame them. She moved quickly and easily. Though the eye followed after her, she was pretty much done moving before a person’s brain knew where she was going to be standing next. It was not something a bodyguard or hitman could be comfortable with. Nic DeLuca completely understood Davidov’s fascination with the woman.

Nic gave his men a vicious look as they continued to watch her while she reached for her jacket and bent to put her ankle boots on. Their looks were beginning to morph from suspicion to fascination. This was not something he needed. If Davidov didn’t put a bullet in them, then he would be forced to. Fuck, he’d lost two men in similar circumstances while they’d been trailing Natasha across the globe, watching over her. The woman was just too damn delectable for her own good. Luckily, Maria had rendered Nic immune to any other woman’s charm or he might also become vulnerable to the assassin’s bullet.

“I have something for you, tesero,” Nic said, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a small jewelers box.

Natasha came to stand next to him, her head tilted to the side. His men faded into the background as he opened the box and held it up for her. Her gasp filled the room and tears instantly filled her eyes. Other than that small show of emotion, she stood frozen for several long seconds, taking in the meaning of the contents of the tiny box. Slowly, her gaze lifted to meet his. He knew he should harden his own emotions, show her that he was indeed the mean son-of-a-bitch that had manipulated her life to this point, but he knew she saw at least a modicum of regret reflected there. So, instead of anger, her forgiving nature shined through and she smiled at him in gratitude.

“Spasibo, Niccolo,” she whispered and reached for her wedding rings.

The wedding band and engagement ring she had pawned in Versailles for cash the night she had fled her husband. The wedding set that should have been lost forever, but wasn’t, because her shadowy savior was also the man that had set up her entire downfall two years ago. She slid the rings onto the third finger of her left hand with a contended sigh and squeezed her hand into a fist. They were still a perfect fit.

Nic closed the jewelers box with a snap and put it back in his pocket. “Let’s go.”

Before they left, Nic turned and tossed a leather portfolio on the table. Natasha turned in the doorway and titled her head to the side. “A job?”

He nodded and then jerked his head to the door. She stepped outside and took a deep breath, tipping her head back. “I hope you aren’t taking me away for too long, Niccolo. I really love it here and I’ll miss my cabin while I’m away.”

His men stepped outside, flanking her. He stepped up behind her, closing the door behind them. They walked off the porch toward his bullet proof, tinted SUV. “That depends entirely on your husband, tesero.”

She nodded and then turned her head to look at him with a mischievous grin. “I think that depends on this retirement plan of yours.”

“Let us call this a semi-retirement plan,” he chuckled and then added, “if it works.”

Nic saw one of his men step too close to the Russian dancer and reach to clasp Natasha’s arm. It was a stupid excuse to touch the beautiful woman. He growled in annoyance and thought about remaining silent, but decided he should at least issue a warning. “Do not fucking touch…” He was too late. A shot shattered the silence and blood sprayed across the sunlit ground before the body toppled back. “His woman,” Nic finished, his voice hard and tense. He studied his dead bodyguard dispassionately. Except for Lucio, who’d stayed in Miami to watch over Tess and Maria, it was a good thing he wasn’t in the habit of getting attached to his hired help.

His dark gaze swept the trees, searching for a deadly ghost he knew he wouldn’t find. He’d suspected the man was there, protecting his wife from a distance. There was no way she could have been left alone, vulnerable in the little cabin. This is why he wanted Davidov. This particular Russian assassin was the best. Coming out to his residence and taking his woman was a huge gamble that could have ended in Nic’s death. But Nic had counted on Davidov’s curiosity and gratitude; his need to know who had hidden Natasha for two years and his desire for the jobs that the Italian boss could provide. And above all, the protection Nic could extend to Natasha and the baby for the duration of their lives. Nic had played the long game. Would Davidov?

“Natasha,” Nic said sharply, turning cold eyes toward the shaking woman. He could not touch her so he had to use his voice to command her attention. “You need to keep your eyes on me and step toward the vehicle. Capire?”

She nodded quickly and stepped around the body. “Da. Y-yes, I understand,” she whispered in a shaky voice, reaching for the doorframe.

“Good girl, tesero. Into the car and we will be on our way.”

Thankfully she went willingly to car on mostly steady legs. She stopped before she reached the car and looked around the clearing as if hoping to see her husband. Her eyes were frightened now, but the look on her face was still hopeful. Finally, she got in the car, a small sigh of relief escaping her lips when she was away from the carnage her husband had caused. She pressed her hand against her stomach and allowed her spine to relax into the seat, striving for control of herself. Nic had cultivated a certain admiration for this tiny dancer over the years, she had a rare inner strength.

Finally, when she seemed to have herself under control, her eyelids slowly opened to reveal an unexpected mischief considering the horrific death she had just witnessed. Nic frowned. This woman was trouble. “What is it?” he asked.

“He told me he loved me before he left,” she told him, laughing a little as she buckled her seatbelt. “He knew you were coming here. He probably figured out ages ago that it was you helping me evade him when I was on the run. If he’s willing to let me go with you now, then he must really trust you. He’s letting you take care of me while he goes on this job for you. Which means he wants to work for you, Niccolo. I suspect if he didn’t, you would never have found us. Now let’s go see Miami, I’m eager to relax on some beaches!”

Nic watched her, his mind taking in everything she said. The little minx appeared to be correct in her deductions. And he despised being one step behind anyone. Though if it bought him a world class assassin, he was willing to let it go this one time.

“You have a deadly mind, Natasha tesero,” he chuckled darkly. “You are wasted on this backwoods mountain. I cannot wait to introduce you to my women, you three will be hell to control.”

She grinned at him and then exclaimed, “Oh, and we need to stop along the way, I didn’t get my butter chicken!”