Her Lucky Number Thirteen (The American Soldier Collection 13)

She stared at him very s

eriously. “It isn’t my first,” she told him. The truck went silent.

“We can stop if we need to but it wouldn’t be smart. We have an hour’s drive to the private airport and the jet,” the man driving said from the front seat.

“I’ll be just fine,” she said to the guy who was so close to her she could see the definition in his cheekbones, the light blond streaks in his hair and his firm lips. The other guy used the light from his phone to shine on her skin.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

The blond across from her cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb along her lower lip. “Are you certain?” he whispered.

She couldn’t believe it. He was so good looking. So sexy and older like Boian. She felt an instant attraction which was completely ludicrous considering the current situation. She nodded her head.

“Here’s the first aid kit. I’ll hold the flashlight,” the other guy said. She locked gazes with him as Boian helped her to lean back.

They were silent and she winced a few times as the guy cleaned up the wound to check it out. His hands felt so warm, so gentle against her skin. He was big. They all were, and a feeling of claustrophobia began to simmer in her gut. The space was confined and the air palpable.

Boian wiped the blood from her swollen lip, and stared at her with a firm expression, and those striking dark blue eyes of his. She couldn’t look at him. Those old feelings, the attraction was instantly back and she knew nothing could come of it. She was a different person now. These last months had changed her. She jerked when the man in front of her cleaning her wound brushed against the underside of her breasts. She locked gazes with him.

“Thank you. Whoever you are,” she whispered.

“I’ll make the introductions,” Boian stated. “This guy right here who’s so good with his hands is Viktor. The one with the flashlight is Dusty. In the front passenger seat is Chatham and the boss, our leader, Cosivan is driving.”

So the commanding one with the deep voice she immediately responded to was their leader. Interesting.

She nodded toward them and could tell even in the dark cab of the SUV that they were very dangerous, important men. She knew instantly that they were Boian’s team members, American soldiers who served together in war, and were Special Forces. These were the men her father hadn’t wanted her to ever meet. Why was Boian here now? Her father changed his mind and she wondered why. She couldn’t feel excited to know that Boian was here. He was just doing his job. She understood that. But she had feelings for him. She had thought about him so much over the last several years. That’s why her father sent him. He knew she wouldn’t have trusted anyone else and she probably would have shot them. A deeper feeling of loneliness struck her core.

Then she felt the fingers under her chin and Boian tracing her lip with his finger. “I was so worried about you.” She felt the tears reach her eyes.

“Why did my father send you, of all people?” she asked and saw his eyes squint at her directness. There was no room for pussyfooting around. She was direct, and she wanted answers. She earned that right by fighting for her life and taking lives of people out to get her.

“Your father knew that my team and I would be the best ones to protect you. He felt that you would trust us, because…because of the fact I trained you years ago,” he said, and she couldn’t help but to think that wasn’t the complete truth. Or maybe she hoped Boian would say that he insisted he be the one to find her because he still cared for her and didn’t care what anyone said. That was some silly girl fantasy and hope. This was reality. Death, violence, and being on the run for her life. She had to be smart and keep in control.

“Raymond said you were going to kill me. That they planted the gun to be found that killed Karlicov and my mom. That the Russian heads would issue an order to kill me. My father said to me to trust no one and to run, so I didn’t use the burner phones. There was no one to trust,” she said and then blinked the next tears away.

She felt the heat against her side and looked down to see Viktor caressing her skin. She locked gazes with him.

“You’re not alone anymore. Your father sent us to watch over you and protect you. That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Viktor said to her.

Her heart felt heavy, and her body ached as the pains, the bruising and the possibility that she was indeed somewhat safe filled her mind. They were five large men. Men she really didn’t know, but was asked to trust. She didn’t think she could ever trust anyone again, and show weakness. She definitely couldn’t show weakness when it came to Boian. She had to be strong. Her past life was behind her and her future was something she needed to look at a day at a time. That thought had her heart aching and her closing her eyes and hiding the emotion these men would surely see. Nalia learned fast that showing weakness gave others power over a person. No one would have power over her ever again. No one.

* * * *

Cosivan nodded toward Boian once they were settled in on the jet. Boian looked over at Nalia. She kept fighting falling to sleep. She was exhausted but still in defense mode despite them assuring her that they weren’t there to kill her or take her back to Chicago. Even though she’d talked to her father and to Nicolai she was still on the defensive and untrusting. He knew it would take time. She had gone through hell and then some.

He watched as Boian patted her knee. Cosivan felt his chest tighten. Thirteen damn weeks the woman remained hidden and on the run. He was beyond impressed, and especially with her ability to kill when needed. It upset him that she was forced to take lives in order to save her own. But knowing what those men did for a living and how brutal and barbaric they were, he felt no remorse and hoped that Nalia wouldn’t either.

“Yes?” Boian said to him as he took the seat beside him.

“How is she?”

“In pain but fighting it. She won’t let us look at her other injuries, but I think they’re just cuts and bruises on her shoulder and back. Viktor assured me that as long as we keep changing the bandage and applying the ointment then the risk for infection on her hip where the gunshot wound is will decrease.”

“I’m sure we can have someone with medical skills to evaluate her if you’re that worried.”

“I trust Viktor, and I trust you. There’s no need to make our presence in Salvation known. Viktor and you know what you are doing. You both took care of us how many times in the service and with worse wounds than Nalia’s. Plus, add in your skills, and if need be you can do stitches if she needs them.”

Cosivan nodded his head. He couldn’t help but recall the close calls they did have, but they always had one another’s backs. Even Viktor, who came from this Russian mob business. It had taken him the longest to trust them and for them to trust him.