17TIMUR stretched out beside Ashe, his body feeling as if someone had beat the living hell out of him. He remembered that same exact feeling from when he was a kid and his father kicked the shit out of him, just to make him strong. The man didn’t want a whining, whimpering candy-ass baby for a son. Kicking the shit out of him nightly was his way of making certain Timur became a man.
“Honey,” Ashe murmured sleepily and turned to him.
“Go back to sleep, baby.” He had pulled all the privacy screens to darken the house so she wouldn’t wake with the sun in her eyes. He hadn’t meant to disturb her, but he needed her. That bothered him, but not enough to stop him from lying beside her.
She didn’t have a stitch on and he was fully clothed, but it didn’t matter. Whenever he was near her, his body knew immediately who it belonged to, and it wasn’t him.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he added when she continued to blink up at him with sleepy eyes. She looked drowsy and sexy all at once. Her hair was braided, but was far looser than when he’d woven the thick mass together. He couldn’t resist brushing the tip of her nose with a kiss. “Really, baby, go to sleep.”
Those eyes saw too much. He knew because she laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arm around him. “Tell me what’s wrong, Timur, and don’t lie. There’s no need to. Whatever you’re going to tell me isn’t going to send me into some tailspin where I run for the hills. I made a commitment to you. My female is committed to your male. Just talk to me.”
He sighed and stroked a caress down the back of her hair. His fingers caught in the braid and rubbed the silky strands together. “We think Evangeline’s family is involved somehow with the hit men. With my Uncle Lazar and a human trafficking ring. With selling opium, using a perfume factory to distribute and trying to get Evangeline to allow them to use her bakery the same way.”
She was silent, her fingers swirling letters on his chest, beneath his shirt. He felt every stroke as if she was writing her name and it was sinking beneath his skin to brand his bones.
“I’ll admit, I didn’t much care for her father,” she said slowly. “Her uncle was disgusting, trying to force Godiva to mate with his male. He knew I was with you, and yet he still did it. So, yeah, I can see that they’re both maybe not the best men, but do you think they would really have anything to do with drugs and human trafficking and betraying her to Lazar? That’s a big leap from just being disgusting.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not the only one who thinks it, Ashe. There are signs that point to their guilt.”
“That will be so terrible for her. What about her brothers? Do you think they’re involved?”
“It’s possible, but I don’t have an answer for that.”
She was silent again. He felt her every breath, as if the two of them breathed the same rhythm. It might have been an illusion, but he heard her heart beating in sync with his. Just being with her soothed him. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering how his life could be so fucked-up, yet he had her. Ashe. A woman who walked into his life and gave him a sanctuary, a haven. It was no longer about her body. It was about her heart.
“You’re head of security.” She was puzzling it out, the way she did everything. “That means Fyodor is going to want you to talk to them. Question them, right?”
He didn’t answer her. His fingers continued moving in her hair. His heart beat a little faster, thudding against his chest.
“Of course, that’s what you have to do. Someone has to get to the truth. That’s what you meant when you said you weren’t that much different from the men who killed my parents, isn’t it? But you’re wrong, Timur.” She turned onto her stomach, propping herself up on his chest so she could look into his eyes. “You aren’t like them at all.”
“Baby.” He couldn’t look at her. He refused to lie to her.
“No, you’re not. You’re trying to protect your brother and Evangeline. And me. Probably everyone. You aren’t killing someone for money or for personal gain. You aren’t following some crazy man’s orders to hurt someone as much as you can just for revenge or some sick, twisted perversion of what a lair should be.”
There was Ulisse and what he’d like to do to the man who had betrayed them all. Still, what was the point of finding his woman, being given that gift, if he didn’t actually become a better man? That was up to him. She saw him this way. As the white knight charging up on his white steed—or in his case—leopard—to save the day.