Shifters In My Sheets 2 Page 7

  "Siberia?"

  He tipped his head and smiled at me. This time his smile was aimed at me, for me, "Yeah, sweetie. Siberia. We're from Siberia, originally."

  He moved toward me and brushed a stray tendril of hair out of my face, "You look mighty nice in my bathrobe there." There was that deep purr of a voice again, the one that sent shock waves through my body and vibrated down to my nether regions.

  His mouth was on mine, making it clear that all further questions would have to wait.

  For the next few days Evan and I lounged about the private car, making love and ordering specialty foods from the dining car.

  His grandparents had been obscenely wealthy when they arrived in America, although they had to leave most of their belongings back in Russia, they'd been able to bring a significant amount of money with them.

  Then his grandfather had lucked into a huge land share along the Texas/Louisiana border, using it for ranching initially and then discovered oil in the 20's.

  In short, Evan was loaded. He admitted he wasn't even sure what the family's net worth was, it changed drastically by the hour.

  He was close to his family, both his Russian grandparents were still living and he was their only grandson, so he admitted to being quite spoiled.

  Now Evan was involved in the task of traveling back to Russia periodically in an attempt to reclaim his family's estate. When his grandparents left the country, they had left everything in the legal care of close family friends and attorneys. Or, something that was "akin to a lawyer" in Evan's words.

  It was clear that Evan wasn't impressed with the way his grandparents' property had been handled and that he was having a lot of trouble with the family that had been managing the estate for the last hundred years.

  I didn't want to ask too much. I was still reeling in shock that this amazing man was interested in me. Evan had quite a healthy sexual appetite, he couldn't seem to get enough of me. And I sure as hell wasn't going to complain about that!

  When ever I asked Evan why he was interested in me, he would just smile and tell me that he knew I was his the moment he saw me.

  I didn't like the idea of belonging to him, and I would have set him straight on the matter if it didn't sound so damn sweet the way he said it. Like we were fated to be together. Like I was the one woman he was meant to be with for all time.

  Like maybe this wasn't just a hot fling on a long train ride in a foreign land.

  A girl can dream, can't she?

  Evan's private rail car was part of another train, one of the up scale tourist trains that traveled the tracks as well. Even had wanted to travel by train on this trip instead of flying directly into Vladivostok, but he wanted to do it in style.

  I shrugged nonchalantly when he explained it. Sure, I thought, if you've got the dough why wouldn't you want a private car? But the tourist train wouldn't be running at the time he needed to travel and it wouldn't stop in Khabarovsk, where he needed to debark for an unspecified amount of time.

  Again, he rubbed his fingers together and said, "It's Russia. Everything is available for a price." He'd simply bribed the train companies.

  " 'Bribed' sounds bad, let's say I arranged to rent the private car and have it hauled by the Rossiya on its regular schedule."

  When I explained that I had only bought passage as far as Irkutsk, Evan made more arrangements. When we arrived, we debarked and stood on the platform watching a railway worker uncouple the mismatched coach from the rest of the train. The Rossiya pulled away from the station as scheduled, leaving Evan's coach sitting on the track.

  "Won't there be another train coming?" I asked worriedly as Evan steered me through the crowds toward the city.

  "Yes." He answered simply.

  I turned back to stare at the idle car, "Won't the car be in the way?"

  "No." He answered, trying to sound vague but amusement had crept into his voice. "A switch engine will be along shortly to move the car to a siding. When we're ready to continue our journey, they'll attach the car back to the train." He gave in and explained to me.

  Evan gave me a grand tour of Irkutsk, having been there exactly twice in his life previous to this, he assured me he was an expert.

  We would be staying two nights, which gave us one full day to see Lake Baikal, visit all the shoppes and museums, and still eat several delicious meals and spend some quality time in the lavish room Evan had reserved for our short stay.

  We had returned from our whirlwind tour of the area around 4 pm and Evan had carried me up the stairs to the 3rd floor hotel room, his fingers already creeping indecently under my skirt before we'd reached the door.

  As we lay together, spent on top of the bedcovers, Evan's phone rang. It startled me from my sleepy thoughts. It wasn't a sound I was used to hearing. Evan sighed heavily and reluctantly crawled over me to retrieve the nuisance device from the bedside table.

  It must have been important. As soon as he saw the caller ID, he snatched the phone to his ear with a terse, "Sebantsev," then got to his feet and began pacing the length of the room in front of the windows.

  I watched him without paying much attention to his conversation. I envied the comfort he had with his body. He rarely seemed to even be aware of his nudity, while even now I had taken the opportunity to crawl under the covers when he had gotten off the bed.

  His pacing seemed born of impatience, not nervousness. The thick muscles flexing smoothly under his skin as he turned to change direction.

  I watched a shadow creep over his face, his features deepen into a scowl. Whatever was being said on the other end wasn't meeting with Evan's approval. He pulled the phone away from his ear and clicked it off without so much as an acknowledgment to the person he had been speaking with. More like listening to, I suppose.

  "Pack up." The words were a brisk order, the tone an apology as he began gathering our belongings from around the room.

  I reached for my clothes that had been discarded by the bedside and began dressing.

  "Is everything alright?" I finally asked, knowing it wasn't, knowing it wasn't the appropriate question but hoping that he'd share some information that would explain to me why we had packed up and checked out of the hotel at 7 in the evening.

  "No."

  Damn this man and his blunt answers.

  I was half walking, half running to keep up with him as he strode casually but briskly along the streets with our luggage in hand. He hadn't given me a single clue as to what the phone call had been about. All I had to go on was his sudden change in demeanor...and his new habit of looking over his shoulder as though someone might be following us was doing nothing to quiet my imagination.

  "EVAN!" I'd tripped more than once trying to keep up with him on the uneven pavement. I was losing my patience. I was hungry and tired and as much as I really really liked this guy, I didn't see any reason to obey his every command just because he uttered them at me.

  I stopped cold on the sidewalk and waited for him to turn around. If he expected me to follow him any further, I was going to need some explanation.

  Evan turned around and stared at me, a mixture of exasperation, worry, and amusement played across his features as he began making his way back to the place where I had decided to make my stand.

  "What's wrong?" He almost had to bend over in half to bring his head down to my level. He leaned in close and whispered to me as though someone might over hear our conversation.

  "I don't understand what's going on." My voice had lost the fire I'd planned on directing at him. Something about the way he was speaking in hushed tones made me concerned that maybe this wasn't the best time or place to get curious.

  I looked around at the passersby on the street, at the shopkeepers behind the thick glass windows, suddenly worried that we were being followed. I kept my voice down, but pleaded for some shred of information about the sudden change in plans. Why were we hurrying back to the rail car? Why couldn't we have stayed in the hotel and gone out for a nice dinner lik
e we'd planned? Why were we whispering?

  Evan gave

  me half a smile and wrapped his arm over my shoulder, steering me back on track, "I'm sorry, babe, I have to meet with some people early tomorrow morning before the train leaves. It's just best to get back on board tonight so we won't have to rush in the morning."

  He looked down at me and smiled what was supposed to be a warm, reassuring smile. I noticed it didn't touch his eyes and that kept me on edge. It seemed very much that my new companion was trying to make me feel at ease when it was obvious that he didn't himself. If a guy like Evan was afraid of something, what chance did I have against whatever it was?

  I let his arm pull me close against his body and tried to keep up with his pace.

  We stopped at various little shops along the way and by the time we reached the train station, we had enough groceries to fill the small kitchenette on the rail car for the rest of our trip.

  The private car was waiting patiently on a short stretch of track that ran at a slight angle to the main track. Evan tracked down some workers while I waited on the dock with the groceries and the overnight bags we'd taken with us. I was only a little surprised to overhear Evan speaking in what sounded to me like perfect Russian-- albeit with a slight Texas twang.

  I smiled as I watched the men talking, Evan gesturing toward the car occasionally. I'd never fallen so hard for a guy so fast. It was going to be rough when we reach Khabarovsk where Evan would be departing to handle his family's affairs while I journeyed on to Vladivostok. I could only assume that was still the plan, Evan hadn't mentioned anything about me staying with him.

  That realization kinda stung. We'd been inseparable since that first smoldering glance in the dining car several nights ago. Being with Evan was amazing, I was going to miss his companionship. Not to mention the hot sex. And the posh private car, if I was being completely honest. But mostly, I was going to miss Evan. The way he made me feel safe and protected, the way I felt comfortable and at ease with him. Not like other men I'd been with in my life who made me self conscious, like they were always judging me. Wishing I was a little thinner. Wishing I was a little smarter. Wishing I made more money-- wishing I made less money.

  I sighed heavily.

  Evan was like a bowl of Baby Bear's porridge. Everything about him was just right. That's something that just doesn't come along very often, or by accident.

  Still. He hadn't asked me to change my plans for him and now it seemed like his business in Siberia had taken an unexpected turn. He'd probably be looking forward to us going our separate ways soon so he could get back to his family affairs.

  Evan and the younger rail road man broke through my thoughts with their sudden laughter. Evan brought his giant paw down on the man's thin shoulder with the friendly pat of old friends. I winced for a minute, worried that Evan's size and strength would certainly crush the man and drive him to his knees but the man didn't so much as flinch. Of course I, of all people, ought to be aware of how gentle Evan can be.

  Evan ran toward me in a relaxed jog, closing the distance to the platform in just a few easy steps. "Alright," his humor seemed to have returned as he picked up our bags, "we're all set. Boris has our back, he's gonna make sure the car goes onto the first train to Khabarovsk in the morning. It's going to be an early one and it won't be the Rossiya, but we oughta be fine with all these eats."

  He had everything in one hand and held his other out to me from the rock-covered ground along the tracks. I looked down at the 4 foot drop off to the ground and waved his hand away, there was no way I could simply hop down off the platform.

  Evan gave a snort at my attempt to crawl off the dock and grabbed me around the knees, forcing me forward over his shoulder and carrying me toward our car like a sack of potatoes.

  I screeched and laughed at him while beating against his back with my fists in an unconvincing protest until he deposited me on the steps to our car.

  "You go ahead and start stockin' the pantry," he began handing me the bags of groceries and then lifted the luggage onto the deck of the little porch at the rear of the car, "I gotta make a phone call real quick. Be right back!" He blew me a kiss and gave me a wink as he turned on his heel and pulled out his phone.

  I'd just finished putting away the last of the groceries and was starting to unpack our overnight luggage when Evan returned wearing a solemn look. He set the phone down and connected it to the charger then crossed the living quarters and sat heavily on the leather sofa.

  "Is there anything I can do?" I asked, trying to be helpful.

  Evan chewed his lip, deep in thought for a few moments. I was thinking he hadn't heard me when he answered, "No, sweetheart. I just got some bad news, that's all."

  I came and sat down beside him, taking his hand and holding it in my lap, trying to be comforting, "About your grandfather's estate?"

  "Sorta." He sighed, "They're trying to blackmail us now."

  His voice was tense with underlying anger. I could see the muscles all along his body tense up, poised to strike. Whatever these people thought they had on Evan's family, I hoped they knew what they were risking. I sure as hell would want to be on the wrong side of this man.

  "Do they actually have anything on your grandfather?" I asked cautiously.

  Evan blinked a few times as if he were clearing his thoughts then he turned to face me, "Not just my grand-daddy. All of us. The whole clan. They're threatening to out us as..." He ended his sentence abruptly, letting his words hang uncompleted in the air between us.

  Oh my god, I thought with sudden realization, they really do have something on Evan's family-- on Evan.

  "My family has secrets, Kerri," he held my hands in his now, looking deeply into my eyes as though he were terrified to continue with his confession. "We didn't think they knew and I'm not sure how or when they found out."

  "Is it something really bad?" I wasn't sure how far to push. I wanted to assure him that nothing he could tell me would change how I felt about him but how true was that? I searched my imagination for a list of the worst case scenarios. They could be mobsters, smugglers, in-bred cannibals... No. Scratch that, no one could be the result of generations of inbreeding and still look like Evan. Maybe they were spies?

  Oh shit, it struck me, that's it, isn't it? It all made perfect sense. Russians, "escaping" the revolution? Immigrating to America? To Texas, of all places! Oh no. My heart sank all the way to the tips of my toes. I'd fallen for a Russian spy.

  Wait! Leave it to my imagination to save the day! He's worried about the family here in Siberia outing them, maybe that means his family is considered traitors here, in Russia. Oh, that would be so much better.

  If that's it, why is Evan looking at me like I'll hate him if he tells me any more?

  Evan had responded to my last question with a derisive snort, "Not to us." He was back on his feet, pacing in front of me, choosing his words carefully, "Nah nah, nothin' like that. It's just that my family goes back in the village a long time. We have a reputation and a certain amount of clout and the village is sort of-- how should I say this? They still hang on to some very old ideas. Superstitious. That's it."

  The anger had receded in favor of explaining things to me. I was glad that he didn't seem as stressed out now, but frustrated that he obviously wasn't going to actually tell me what it was about his family that could land them in such hot water.

  I kept reminding myself that I'd known this man for less than a week. This was not a relationship, this was a fling. I didn't need to know the details of his family drama, and I had no business asking.

  I sat and quietly absorbed everything he was saying, hoping he would choose to trust me on his own.

  "I can't tell you. Not just yet." It was like he could read my mind. He stood in front of me and pulled me to my feet and embraced me in his arms for a moment before taking my head in his hands, "This is very important, Kerri. I need you to trust me. You're the one, I know you'll understand when the time is right but I
can't risk putting you in danger."

  Then he kissed me. He kissed me deep and tenderly and I melted into his arms with complete faith in whatever he said.

  I was a sucker for this man. I knew it deep within me even if I wasn't ready to admit it just yet.

  His hands were running down my spine, igniting a trail of sparks as they went. His mouth was eager and hungry, claiming mine with the authority of someone who knows they are holding all the cards.

  I couldn't be bothered with worry now, not when he had my clothes on the floor around my feet and was kneeling down to devour my body with that hot mouth of his while his hands delved into my moistness.