Sweetest Surrender Read online

  He rubbed a hand over his face and for the briefest moment, he looked shattered. Which killed her. But screw him, he’d slept with someone else. That rigid mask slipped back into place so quickly though, she could almost believe she’d imagined that streak of vulnerability. “I thought you had feelings for me,” he said quietly.

  “Yeah well, I thought you had them for me too,” she snapped, unable to hide her anger.

  “I do.” He sounded so convincing. “Did you agree to go out with him to make me jealous? I didn’t think you played games,” he said stiffly.

  She snorted. “I’m not playing any games! You’re the one who slept with someone else so blame yourself for—”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, his angry tone taking her off guard. “I haven’t slept with anyone since I met you. Hell, I hadn’t slept with anyone in the six months before that.” While he seemed embarrassed by the admission, he also seemed impossibly sincere.

  Either he was the world’s best actor or he was telling the truth. Relief detonated inside her like an atomic freaking bomb. She nervously licked her dry lips, some of her earlier steam subsiding. “I called your hotel room after your car was vandalized. Well, first I tried your cell, but when it went straight to voicemail I called the hotel. A woman who’d clearly just woken up answered and I could hear a man in the background.” A man she’d assumed was him.

  Vadim smiled suddenly, an actual full-on smile that made her breath catch in her throat. But she couldn’t imagine what there was to be happy about when she’d just called him out on being a liar. “That’s why you’ve been so angry at me?”

  Frowning, she nodded.

  “If you called right after my car was damaged, then you would have called late Friday, long after we’d left. The reason I didn’t answer my cell is because it was off—because I was on Wyatt’s jet. We finished our business early. We didn’t even stay at the hotel a single night. Just checked in that morning, then grabbed our stuff again that afternoon before flying out.”

  All the anger left her then and she felt, well, she didn’t know what she felt other than staggering relief. Now that she thought about it, it actually made sense, especially since he’d gotten home not too long after, scaring the crap out of her with that gun. Not wanting to wait another minute, she pulled her cell phone from her purse and texted Logan, telling him there wouldn’t be a date tomorrow night. She knew he’d get over it, if he’d even care at all. When she was done, she looked up to find Vadim watching her with a mix of curiosity and wariness. “I just texted Logan and told him there won’t be a date.”

  When Vadim smiled this time, it was one of his half-grins, the sexy predator back. “Good, I won’t have to kick his ass now.”

  For some reason, she didn’t think Vadim was kidding. “I’m sorry I’ve been so…distant, I guess. I just thought, well, after our kiss when I thought you’d slept with someone else, it hurt me.” Way more than she’d imagined it would.

  Vadim took a step forward, eliminating the distance between them. Gently, he cupped her jaw and stroked his thumb over her cheek. “I don’t want anyone else but you,” he said softly, the conviction there making her toes curl in her slingbacks. Before she could respond, he dropped his hand, though it appeared to pain him to do so. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t want any more interruptions.”

  The implication of those words made heat bloom inside her, rapid and scorching. Not trusting her voice, she simply nodded and let him guide her toward the parking garage. She really hoped the reason he didn’t want any interruptions was the reason she was thinking.

  Now that she knew he wanted her as much as she did him—and wasn’t screwing around with other women—her imagination ran wild about what he’d do to her, and let her do to him. Suddenly the thought of being under his roof for the next week or so sounded like a lot of fun.

  Chapter 10

  Angel slipped her sweater over her head and pulled her damp hair through, letting it fall down her back. Vadim had received a work call almost the second they’d gotten in the SUV. Then he’d received two more and had still been on the last one when they’d reached his house. He’d looked so apologetic, but she didn’t mind the calls.

  She was still reeling from the sharp relief that he hadn’t slept with anyone else. That he wanted to be with only her. Because she definitely felt the same way.

  Smoothing her hand nervously against her jean clad thighs, she stepped out into the hallway. The house was quiet and after searching most of it and finding it empty, she knocked on the door of what he’d told her was his office.

  When no one answered, she cracked it open and peeked inside to see if he was on the phone. He wasn’t in there, but a glass door leading to the outside was open. The room was gorgeous, with a full wall of windows. The drapes were pulled back, revealing the dark night and desert stars. She imagined he got a lot of natural light in the day. His desk was in pristine condition, with two laptops on the glass top. The rest of the desk was wood, teak she guessed. It went perfectly with the wall of built-in bookshelves.

  He must have taken Charlie out because Angel hadn’t seen the dog anywhere either. A cool breeze blew through the room. “Vadim?” she called out, not wanting to invade his privacy, even if he had told her that his office door was always open to her. He didn’t answer so she started to leave when another gust of wind swept through.

  A manila folder on his desk flipped open, the pages ruffling, a few scattering to the floor. Pushing the door open, she stepped farther in and started to pick them up when she saw her name on one of them. As she started to scan it, her fingers turned numb as it sank in what she was looking at. He’d compiled information on her.

  “Angel.” Vadim stood in the doorway, his expression grim.

  Since she’d already jumped to conclusions once, she didn’t want to do it again. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, she stood, one of the fallen papers in hand. “The wind blew these off your desk and I saw my name.” She motioned to the others near her bare feet. “Is this work related? Did your boss want you to look into me after I took the food from Cloud 9?” She really hoped that’s what it was and could actually understand that. Sierra hadn’t said anything about telling Mr. Christiansen about what Angel had done, but for all she knew, the chef had done just that. And she wouldn’t blame her.

  Vadim paused for a moment and she thought he was going to say yes. But he shook his head and stepped to the side as Charlie came in. He shut and locked the door behind the dog, then picked up a small remote from the nearest bookshelf. He pressed a button and she nearly jumped in surprise when the drapes slid closed, covering the windows.

  “I didn’t want to do this now, but will you take a seat?” He motioned to a small cushioned chair on the other side of his desk.

  It looked a little worn, as if he sat in it often in addition to the ergonomic chair behind his desk. Not that she cared about that. She wanted to know why Vadim had a file on her. She’d been stalked once and was now on the run because of it. As she sat, she placed the paper with her name, address and other employee information on the desk and tried to hide her trembling hands in her lap. Charlie plopped down beside her and nudged Angel’s foot, as if to let her know she was there. But she couldn’t even look at the dog, her gaze was riveted on Vadim.

  He sat on the edge of his chair, but he looked like a caged tiger, wanting to pace. “Until today I’ve never looked into your past. I never wanted to violate our friendship like that. I hope you believe me.” The expression on his face told her that was important to him.

  Which eased her fears. “I do.”

  Vadim let out a sigh and slouched back against his chair, the action disconcertingly uncharacteristic. He scrubbed a hand over his face like he did only when he was upset about something. “I don’t talk much about my work, but you know I handle a lot of Wyatt’s computer security.” When she nodded he continued. “Before I came to work for Wyatt I was part of an intel unit in the Marines.
I did a lot of stuff for them in conjunction with other government agencies.”

  She didn’t even want to guess what agencies, though the way he said it, she could. “So now you do similar stuff for Mr. Christiansen?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Sometimes legal, sometimes not.” After he said that, he watched her carefully, as if waiting for a reaction.

  Angel shrugged. “If you’re waiting for me to judge you, I’m not going to.” She was using someone else’s social security number. She had no room to judge. Ever.

  Something seemed to shift inside him at her words, even though his body language never changed. Finally he continued. “When I stopped by your apartment complex, I spoke to Mr. Botkin. He told me a man had been asking about you. This just happened, right before the vandalism incident. It feels like too much of a coincidence for the two things not to be related. Maybe I’m overreacting. Do you know why anyone would be asking about you?”

  That numbness was back, creeping over her entire body like cold fingers. “Someone was asking about me?”

  “Yes. Brown hair, brown eyes, tall and Mr. Botkin said his daughters would have considered him handsome in the Hollywood sense.”

  Oh, god. She was going to be sick. He’d found her. He’d been asking about her. What if she’d led him right back to Vadim’s? Oh, no. No, no, no. Angel jumped up from her seat, terror forking through her like jagged slashes of lightning. She had to leave. To run, right now. Panic battered against her insides but before she’d taken a single step Vadim jumped up and had rounded the desk.

  He grabbed on to her hips, holding her in place, as if he was afraid she’d bolt. Which was exactly what she was planning on doing. “Who is he?”

  She shook her head, her throat tightening. “Vadim, I can’t…I need to go. Right now. You could be in danger.” Tears burned her eyes, streaking a hot path as they fell down her cheeks in wave after wave. She’d been running for two years and while she didn’t feel safe exactly, she’d started to hope that maybe she’d left her past behind.

  Angel didn’t even realize she was sobbing until Vadim pulled her against his chest. She wrapped her arms around him, savoring his strength for just a moment. She knew it wouldn’t last, that she couldn’t depend on him. Couldn’t put him in danger like that. He rubbed his hand up and down her back steadily, just like he’d done this morning when she’d been crying about her apartment.

  Lord, what was wrong with her? It was like her pent up emotions from the last two years were just coming out all at once. She was too upset to be embarrassed though.

  She wasn’t sure how much time passed, a minute, an hour, but eventually that constriction in her chest loosened and she could breathe again. Sucking in a deep breath, her tears finally dried up, she pulled back and looked at Vadim.

  He held her face in both his hands, murmuring words she didn’t understand as he wiped the stray wetness from her cheeks. His gentle expression nearly cracked her heart open and she almost started crying again.

  Reaching up, she lightly gripped his forearms, not to stop him, but because she needed to touch him, to use his strength. “His name is Emile Glass and he killed my brother.”

  * * *

  Vadim filed that name away, knowing he would kill this bastard for Angel if the man came after her. He would do anything to take away the raw agony in her beautiful eyes still filled with unshed tears. Motioning to his favorite chair, he sat, and pulled her with him so that she sat on his lap.

  She didn’t even protest, just curled against him, bringing her legs up so that her knees tucked into him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, waiting for her to continue. He’d just started his investigation on her and so far all he’d discovered was that the social security number she’d been using belonged to a girl who had died as an infant. And Angel had just started using it when she came to work at Cloud 9. He didn’t even know if her name was Angel. He didn’t care.

  “My name really is Angel,” she said, as if she’d read his mind. With her head on his shoulder, she absently traced a pattern over his chest with her fingertips. He hated that his sweater was stopping him from feeling her against his skin. “I’m from a small Louisiana town about an hour north of New Orleans. I grew up with two loving parents and a wonderful older brother. Seriously, we were like the perfect all-American family. I loved them so much and I truly appreciated them. I knew what we had was rare. When I was in my last year of college my parents were killed, along with four others, in a freak boating accident. They’d been on vacation with friends in the Bahamas when a swell came up and…” She sucked in a ragged breath before continuing. “That’s not important for this story. After they died I went into a depression. Really bad. I dropped out of school and moved back into their home. Which in hindsight was stupid because of all the memories there. I just couldn’t seem to pull myself out of my depression. I was never suicidal, but I wasn’t happy. Didn’t want to leave the house, didn’t want to see any of my old friends, nothing. I was living like a shut-in at the age of twenty-two.”

  Vadim tightened his grip, hating the pain he heard in her voice, hating that she’d had to suffer the loss of her parents. Whenever he’d asked about her family she’d been vague and he hadn’t wanted to push. He didn’t like talking about his own past so he understood. His mother had tried hard, but she’d had addiction problems among other issues. He’d been more of a burden to her than anything.

  “Eventually my brother got me into therapy and out of their house. I still wasn’t working, but at least I was leaving the house and doing normal things like grocery shopping on my own. I was such a mess it was pathetic,” she said, her self-disgust clear.

  “It’s not pathetic to mourn those you love.” He’d never been lucky enough to have caring parents—had never known who his father was—but he’d lost many friends in the Marines, and he still mourned them. “I wish you’d told me all this.”

  “I wanted to, so badly. I almost did when you told me about…” She glanced up at him. “About all the friends you’d lost. You were so open and real and I wanted to tell you, but I knew if I told you they’d died I’d end up telling you the whole truth.” She sniffled again then ducked her head back to his shoulder and kept tracing random designs on his chest. He stroked a hand down her long, damp hair as she continued. “Long story short, this guy named Emile befriended me. He was sweet, or so I thought, and didn’t mind my weirdness of not wanting to go anywhere or do anything. In hindsight I realize he wanted me all to himself and that’s why he didn’t mind my anti-social behavior. But as you know, that’s not the real me. The therapy started helping and so did spending time with my brother. After about six months I started bouncing back, started seeing old high school friends and even my friends from Tulane had started to visit now that they were done with school and I was actually accepting visitors. And they were encouraging me to go back and finish. I was—am—only twelve credits shy of graduating and I was ready to go back too. I still hurt, but I wasn’t that emotional mess anymore and I wanted to live my life again.”

  When she paused, he knew that whatever she was about to say would be horrible.

  “Emile must have sensed my…I don’t know, me just getting back to normal. I feel like maybe I should have seen the signs but I was so caught up in my own bullshit I didn’t realize that what I thought was just friendship, he viewed as much more. One Saturday night I was at his parents’ place for dinner. His dad runs the biggest law firm in the town so he’s kind of a big deal. There were so many people there, it was…overwhelming. I didn’t know most of them and right before dessert he proposed to me.” She pulled back and looked at Vadim, her pretty face a mask of horror and confusion. “It was insane, like I was watching it happen to someone else. When I say we were friends, I’m talking just friends. We’d never kissed or flirted or anything. But he got down on one knee, had a ring and everything.” Groaning, she covered her face and shook her head. “It was awful,” she muttered through her fingers.


  Finally she looked up again, and this time sadness bled into her eyes. “Maybe I should have handled it differently, just told him no right then. But I didn’t want to embarrass him in front of so many people. I thought it would be kinder to wait. So the next day I met him at his place and apologized if I’d ever led him on or let him believe that I wanted more than friendship. When I tried to give him his ring back, he punched me in the face. Broke my nose. It hurt, but it was also such a shock. That level of violence.”

  Vadim jerked in the chair, seeing red at the thought of anyone hurting Angel. Oh yeah, this man was dead if he came after her. He didn’t want to hear anymore, didn’t want her to continue, but he knew she needed to get the whole story out and he needed all the details if he was going to find this bastard. And he was. Very soon.

  “I won’t go into all the details, but he hurt me. Would have raped me if a neighbor hadn’t intervened and called the cops. I pressed charges, filed a restraining order, did everything I was supposed to. Then I moved almost immediately. We’d already sold our parents’ house by that point and school didn’t start for another couple months so I went to live with my brother while I was healing. Luckily Emile hadn’t broken any bones, except my nose. It was mainly just bruising and…” She trailed off and clutched on to Vadim’s shoulders. “Vadim.”

  That was when he realized he was actually shaking. The urge to kill someone had never been so great. So real it felt like a consuming thing, eating at him from the inside. “Keep going,” he rasped out, amazed he could speak when his jaw was clenched so tight.

  For a moment she looked unsure, but continued. “A couple weeks later my brother was killed in a mugging gone wrong. The town we lived in was a little bigger than the one we’d grown up in, but the area he was in at the time wasn’t known for crime and he still had his wallet and very expensive watch. It wasn’t a mugging. I knew it and Emile confirmed it with a phone call on the day of my brother’s funeral. He said that unless I came back to him, he’d kill everyone I loved. I told the police, but the number he called me from was a throw-away phone. There was nothing they could do except bring him in for questioning but they had nothing to charge him with. So I packed up and ran. He wanted to fight his assault charges in court, and there was no way I was sticking around as long as his father would have dragged it out. I would have been a sitting duck and it’s not like the cops could protect me. So I’ve been on the move for two years.” The pain in her voice sliced at him.