Misguided Vows (Lethal Vows Book 5)

Misguided Vows: Chapter 7



I’ll call you later, lover boy.” I wave to Alek who shoots me a death stare. I know he secretly loves me. He proved it that one time he shot me in the shoulder. I call it our love bite.

He calls it a fuck off bite.

Each to their own, but we all know I’m right.

Alina’s standing on the sidewalk with her arms crossed over her chest as she orders an Uber. Meanwhile, my car is sitting there, waiting.

“Let me drive you,” I insist as I stop beside her and place the suitcase between us.

“You have a driver, so it’s technically not you driving,” she retorts, not looking away from her phone.

“Okay, let my driver take you. We can get handsy in the car.” I wink at her.

Her green eyes find mine and narrow. “No.”

I lean into her and enjoy the way she’s acutely aware of my every move, despite her venomous tongue, her body always betrays her, especially when I get this close. She can push me away as much as she wants, but her body reacts to me each and every time. Just like mine does hers.

“I can still taste you on my lips,” I whisper, and she gasps.

When she turns, our mouths are close, and I’m tempted to grab her jaw and pull her to me. But she steps away.

“Why are you here? I really want this contract. I get that maybe you were catching up with your pals or something, but this is my job and I take it very seriously.”

“I can see that,” I say with a smirk. “I have a job here in New York as well. Timing just worked out like that.”

She pins me with a stare. “Look, the plane thing was fun, but it ends here. I’m not fucking you.”

“What about that mouth of yours, then?” I ask, staring at her lips. I can just imagine how she’d look with tears streaming down her face, gagging on my cock.

Her mouth snaps shut and she looks away. She’s absolutely perfect.

The front door of the shop opens behind us. Alina takes another step away as Alek walks out and his scathing glare hits me.

“Do you need a lift to get away from him?” Alek asks her, and I grin at him.

“Alek, come on. If you wanted me in your car, all you had to do was ask.” I wink at him and he seems unimpressed.

“You seem to piss a lot of people off,” Alina says under her breath.

“I also get a lot of people off,” I’m quick to reply.

Her cutting glare hits me, and she seems relieved as a car rounds the corner. The truth is, I haven’t been able to have an honest conversation for years. It kept everyone at an arm’s distant so they wouldn’t look too closely and eventually they stopped asking questions.

“Thank you for the offer, but my Uber is here,” Alina directs to Alek, then grabs her luggage and strides off without looking back.

I hate that she doesn’t look back even once.

I watch as she gets in the car and take note of the license plate. It’s a habit, really.

Alek steps up beside me, adjusting his gloves. “Seems you’ve found your own type of trouble.”

“If I really wanted trouble, I’d pull your gloves off and force you to touch me.”

An obvious shiver runs down his spine, and I laugh. It’s general knowledge the hitman and black-market auctioneer only let’s one person touch him—his wife. That man hates the world and everyone in it, with two exceptions: his twin sister, Anya, who is probably crazier than him, and his wife, Lena.

To this day, I still don’t know why he doesn’t like people touching him, but I respect him enough to let his demons remain in his past. If I wanted badly enough, I could obtain the information, but we all have things we’d rather take to the grave. I supposed in some strange way, Alek and I were on opposite personality spectrums, he was cold and quiet toward others to keep the world at a distance and I was never to be taken seriously. Except for my work of course.

I was warned early on not to piss him off, but I find it comical now to mess with him, so I doubt I’ll ever stop.

“Why are you so interested in the designer?” Alek asks, and I’m almost shocked by how much he’s talking today. He’s usually a man of few words. Maybe he really is beginning to fall for me.

“You’re awfully chatty today.”

“And you’re avoiding the question.”

Fair.

I pocket my hands and casually shrug. “I’m curious about her.”

“It’s never a good thing when you’re curious.” True. “Your last job took longer in London than you anticipated. Trouble finding your target? Becoming senile?”

I laugh at that. I imagine it’s very few who discover Aleksandr Ivanov has a personality, let alone a sense of humor. “I found my target. I just also discovered something to entertain me in the meantime,” I say, gesturing to where Alina was standing.

“As long as she keeps you entertained while you’re back instead of me having to do it, I’m all too happy for her to stay,” he says before walking toward his car.

I smirk, wondering how true that is. To what lengths am I willing to go to purge this curiosity?

No one has grabbed my attention in years. So when it comes to satisfying my interest, I’ve concluded that I’ll go to any lengths necessary… at least for a certain brunette anyway.


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