Page 108 of Goodnight, Sinners

Finally, she turned her head and looked up.

Her breath caught and her heart began hammering a painful tattoo in her chest. The most terrifying man she’d ever seen was standing over her, his inscrutable dark eyes on her face. His skin was as dark as his dark brown, almost black gaze. His hands were loose at his sides, each roughly the size of her head. He was huge, his body filled with the bulk of muscle. He wore a uniform. Khaki pants, with a khaki jacket. There were medals pinned to his chest.

She didn’t know who he was, but she had no doubt he knew who she was. He was there for her and, if the air of deadly menace he exuded was correct, he was there to kill her.

The track she was listening to switched to Rituál, a song by a Czech metal band, Master’s Hammer. The intense, heavy metal intro was enough to send her strange confrontation with the assassin into the next level. She dove for her backpack, quickly unzipping her bag and pulling her pistol from its holster.

As she turned in her seat to point the gun, the stranger dropped to one knee next to her chair. She stared at him, her breath coming out in a gasp that sounded explosive in her earphones. Even crouched, he was taller than she was.

He ignored the gun pointed at his heart. He studied her with an intensity that made her skin feel first cold, then hot all over. His gaze went from unreadable to interested. He liked what he saw. She could tell.

Her heart pounded for an entirely different reason as her body reacted viscerally to the massive stranger. She didn’t know why. Her logical brain thought he was the most terrifying human being she’d ever met, and she would bet every silly doll in their original packages she owned that this man was connected with the mafia.

Which meant it wasn’t a coincidence his running into her in the library. He knew she’d be here, and he deliberately sought her out.

Where were her guards? Dead?

Was she about to die?

He lifted a hand and touched her head, his fingers wrapping around her earphone.

She thought he was going to lift it away from her ear so he could speak to her, but he didn’t. He caressed it, as though he was caressing skin. And despite that he didn’t actually touch her a sizzle of awareness ran through her.

He leaned forward and for a crazy moment she thought he was going to kiss her full on the lips. She tightened her finger on the trigger. He pressed his lips to her forehead.

Without a word, he stood and left, striding away from her and giving her a full view of his truly massive form. He had to be damn near seven feet tall. She’d never seen anyone like him in person.

Long after he’d disappeared around the book racks, she sat frozen, her gun hand still up, her finger still on the trigger. Slowly, she lowered her hand and flipped the safety back on.

“What the fuck was that?” she whispered, though her music was too loud for her to hear her own voice.

She shoved her gun back into her bag, packed up her laptop and ran through the stacks, determined to see the man again and to find out what the fuck had happened to her guards. She really hoped they weren’t dead; she’d just broken them in.

* * *

Radik’s heart was pounding. It was actually pounding.

It never beat faster than normal. He’d survived gun battles without flinching. Watched explosions take out strongholds without breaking a sweat. Yet, one small girl set his heart beating in a way he’d never experienced. Perhaps he was getting old. He should get it checked.

But he knew better. He was in perfect health.

It was her, Saskia Koba.

She’d caused his heart to speed up. She’d caused him to hesitate, to pull back. To change his plans.

He’d planned on taking the girl. Now, today, from the library. He was going to take her out from under the nose of her cousin, the way Koba had stolen his sister.

But something had stopped him. Not something. Someone. Saskia. The strange little mobster girl who was studying to become a translator.

He wanted to take her. Badly. And that was what stopped him.

He was confused by his reaction. It was instant, and he didn’t enjoy having feelings he didn’t understand. He’d spent years eradicating his feelings as he was forced to commit unspeakable atrocities in the name of his country.

Then he realized why he couldn’t take her. She was an innocent, and he hadn’t been prepared for that. She’d pulled a gun on him, but she hadn’t shot him. She’d stared at him as though seeing a monster, and he saw himself through her eyes.

He couldn’t be the monster who destroyed her world. Not yet. He would come back for her. Give her time to grow up, to finish her education and reach for her dreams.

He would take her when she was ready for him.

---