A Very Russian Christmas Read online

  “Help me.”

  She scrambled to her feet and took two steps before blackness swallowed her and consciousness faded away.

  Chapter Two

  The snow crunched under Matt’s feet as he hurried toward the woman who’d collapsed. He’d worry about the dead body later. Summit County Sheriff’s Department was severely understaffed; he was one of only three deputies. With the huge storm blowing in, they’d be lucky to ever find the guy again. He’d file his report and the body would be listed as “lost to wild animals.” A man who would shoot a defenseless woman deserved no more.

  Pulling a folding knife from his pocket, he leaned down and cut the zip tie holding her wrists together. Her arms fell softly to her sides. He folded the knife and put it away.

  Juno, his white German shepherd, was nudging her shoulder, but the woman was out cold.

  “Juno, down. I got her, buddy.”

  The dog sat instantly.

  A quick observation revealed she was wearing jeans, a sweater, and suede boots—definitely not an outfit for a planned hike. He rolled her gently over, and his breath hitched in his throat. A dark bruise marred her left cheek. It was swollen, purple, and in the shape of a handprint. A cut ran from her eyebrow up across her forehead.

  Rage boiled inside, and he felt the desire to go beat the crap out of whoever had damaged her so badly. I probably just shot him. Asshole. A bullet was too quick.

  Her creamy white skin was soft, and long, black eyelashes lay against her cheeks. Get a grip, man. He shook his head and sat back on his heels. They had to get to the cabin soon. The storm was coming fast, and she wouldn’t survive dressed the way she was.

  Not quite the way I pictured my holiday vacation going.

  A groan from the woman at his knees snapped him to attention. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing soft brown irises. Beautiful chocolate eyes.

  “Sweetheart, can you tell me your name?”

  “Ostav’te menja v pokoe!”

  Matt retreated a little, hearing fear in her voice. She jerked away when he moved and rubbed her wrists where the plastic tie had scraped.

  “W-who are y-you?” Her teeth chattered through every word.

  English! Thank God.

  “I’m Matt O’Reilly. I’m a deputy for the Summit County Sheriff.”God, she’s turning blue from the cold.

  “Y-you’re n-not Russian.”

  “Nope. We’ve got to get you warmed up, sweetheart.” He unzipped his coat and threw it around her shoulders.

  “You shot him? Is he dead?”

  “Yes. He won’t be bothering you again.”

  “Others will come. Please help me.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed, and she fell sideways onto the snow.

  “Shit.” He was going to have to hurry. She wasn’t dead yet, but hypothermia would steal her away if he didn’t act fast. Her wet clothes were starting to freeze solid. What others? How many people are after her? “Juno, guard.”

  The shepherd’s hackles rose. He paced back and forth, his nose high in the air. Juno had been trained as a sentry in Afghanistan and had saved his life on more than one occasion. If more men were close, Juno would make sure he knew where they were before they saw him.

  Matt ran his hand across the SIG P228 tucked in a holster on his left side, unclipping the safety in case he needed it quickly.

  He faced the woman and frowned.

  Reaching reached inside the coat he’d wrapped around her, he pulled up the frozen sweater to look at her torso—a few minor bruises and scrapes. He felt her arms and legs to check for hidden injuries, but couldn’t find anything major. Lucky girl. Matt scooped her up and laid her over his shoulder. With her body at a higher center of gravity, he could move faster.

  Juno circled while Matt hoofed it through the forest. He had moved up to this Rocky Mountain retreat three years ago to accept an offer from an old Marine buddy to join the sheriff’s office. The cabin was going to be a gift to his wife, along with his resignation from the Marines. Sixteen years of service was admirable. A week later, a drunk driver killed his wife in a car accident.

  He’d followed through with his commitment to the sheriff’s office anyway. A promise was a promise, and everything at home reminded him of his loss. The mountain had been good for his soul. He’d made peace with being alone, other than Juno’s companionship.

  The last thing he’d imagined finding today on his hike was an injured, frightened, apparently Russian woman. And a beautiful one at that.

  ***

  About forty-five minutes later, still carrying the unconscious woman, he emerged from the forest edge. His small house lay directly ahead, a few dozen yards away. Juno charged forward and circled the building before sprawling on the front porch.

  Matt chuckled. “I guess that’s the ‘all clear’ sign.” He took a short pause to catch his breath. Every muscle in his body was trembling. Sheer determination had gotten him home this quickly. Only a little ways left. The wind had picked up and snow was starting to sting his eyes.

  He jogged down the path, holding her firmly against his shoulder, and climbed the porch stairs. “You are getting sloppy,” he growled at the belly-up dog. Juno woofed and lolled his tongue. “Juno, watch.” The dog sat up at the command and pushed his ears forward. Nobody would be able to sneak up on them.

  Matt walked around the eighty-pound white shepherd and opened the door. He marched through the living room and swung a right down the hallway into his bedroom. Once he’d placed her on the bed, he stepped out of the room and cranked up the thermostat. He ducked into the bathroom and grabbed his first-aid kit.

  When he returned to the bedside, she hadn’t stirred at all. Not good. She could have a serious head injury on top of the possible hypothermia. He popped open his kit and unwrapped an alcohol swab. The cut on her forehead had stopped bleeding, but it still needed to be disinfected and covered. After cleaning the dried blood, he was thankful to see the wound was superficial. He covered it with a Band-Aid and tossed the trash into the wastebasket in the corner.

  Now for the rest. He frowned at her wet, half-frozen clothing.

  Matt fumbled with her boots for several minutes before finally freeing them from her feet. Once they were off, he peeled away the semi-frozen socks and threw them to the floor.

  Eyeing the black skinny jeans with a frown, he unzipped them and slipped his fingers in the belt loops. He tugged gently, but the pants didn’t budge an inch. They were soaked and stuck to her like glue. There wasn’t another choice. He leaned over to his nightstand, retrieving his K-Bar. Those jeans had to go.

  The sharp steel blade made short work of the denim. He lifted her lower body, slid them out from under her, and pitched them into the corner.

  Matt took a deep breath. Her underwear was neon pink lace. A ribbon of desire coursed through him. He hadn’t experienced anything so strong since losing his wife. He lifted the hem of her sweater and tugged it over her head, gently freeing one arm at a time. Matt smiled; her bra was neon green lace instead of pink. Her cream-colored breasts were high, the nipples poking at their lace confines.

  Sheesh. Get a grip, man.

  Drawing back the blankets, he tucked her shivering form beneath the covers. Her lips were blue, even her skin powder-white.

  Matt removed his boots and socks, stripped out of his damp canvas pants, and yanked off his sweater and T-shirt. Skin-to-skin was the fastest way to bring up a core temperature.

  Awkwardness be damned.

  He slid into the bed beside her and pulled her tight against his body, wrapping the blankets and comforter around them both. He hissed several curse words under his breath when her ice-cold skin burned his warm flesh. Pushing a leg between her thighs, he wrapped his arms around her torso. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Guilt tortured his mind. Why couldn’t he compartmentalize and just help this girl recover? He was a Marine, damn it! He should not be thinking about how soft her skin was, or how she smelled of cherry blossoms and vanilla, or ho
w her body fit perfectly into the contours of his own. One of the biggest hard-ons he’d had in over a year dug into her stomach.

  “Come on, sweetheart, warm up.”

  ***

  An extremely large, semi-naked male body embraced her semi-naked body. Oh my God! Who the hell…? She moved her head the slightest bit, and he tightened his hold. Her head rested in the crook of his shoulder. A muscular arm was wrapped protectively around her, resting below her right breast. His other hand, though, had a firm hold on her bottom and was keeping her tight against his family jewels. She was still wearing her bra and panties. Definitely a good sign, but where are my clothes? And where am I?

  She jumped, startled by a burst of wind and snow pounding against the bedroom window. A storm. I’m trapped with God only knows who in the middle of a fucking storm. Panic filled her and her body trembled.

  “Please let go of me,” she whispered, placing her unsteady palm against his chest, pushing away slowly.

  He started with a gasp, turning his head to face her. She was not expecting a look of relief and genuine concern. His face reddened as well. Is he embarrassed?

  He slid his arm from beneath her and removed his hand from her ass. “Please forgive me. I was only trying to warm you up. You were practically frozen when we found you.” He moved from the bed to the closet in the corner.

  “We?” she asked. Who else was here?

  “Juno, my dog. He was the big white shepherd.”

  Ksenia missed his warm body next to hers. She shivered and pulled the covers tight around her shoulders. He is not one of the kidnappers. This man found me in the snow. He saved my life. She vaguely remembered him saying he worked for a sheriff. He’d shot the kidnapper. This, I can handle.

  The muscles in his back rippled as he dug through the bottom of the closet. That she’d been touching him only moments ago was hard to believe. Maybe she had been a little hasty in wanting him to get out of the bed.

  What am I thinking! Thank God, that redhead let his guard down for a second. She shuddered at the thought of his hands touching her the way this man’s had.

  “I knew I had one pair with drawstrings.” His gentle voice brought her from her thoughts. He stood and faced her holding a pair of black sweatpants. Sure enough, a drawstring hung from the waistband, and US Marine Corps was printed down the right leg.

  She narrowed her gaze. “And?”

  “They are for you. I sorta ruined your pants, and your sweater was pretty bad, too, after being wet and frozen.”

  “Oh.”

  “I know these aren’t really feminine, but they will do in a pinch.” He smiled and winked. “Course, you are welcome to stay in your current state of undress.”

  The smile and tease put some of her anxiety to rest. I am safe for now, but what about the other goon? He’ll be looking for me and I didn’t see who was driving the white pickup.

  “Those will be fine. Do you have a hoodie or something I can wear, too? My normal attire consists of sweats and T-shirts.” She eyeballed the black, khaki, and green clothing hanging in his closet. Several also had Marine Corps stamps on the sleeves. “Are you a Marine?”

  He laid the black sweatpants on the foot of the bed and returned to the closet. All of his movements were slow and relaxed, allowing her to relax as well. After grabbing another pair and stepping into them, he reached into the closet again and took out a cream-colored, long-sleeved thermal shirt. She scrunched her nose in disappointment when he covered up his washboard abs and rippling shoulders. A small sigh escaped. Why was her mind concerning itself over his abs? She needed to focus on contacting her father.

  “Yes.” He finally answered as he stepped over to a dresser in the corner of the room. Moments later, he produced a huge hoodie with the words “Property of US Marines” stamped across the front. “Will this work?”

  Ksenia chuckled and nodded. This guy needs a little variety in the wardrobe.

  She slid from beneath the covers and tugged on the grossly oversized sweatpants. He had been right. Without the drawstring, wearing them would have been impossible. She pulled it as tight as she could, but they still rested very low on her hips. The edge of her bright pink underwear showed above the waistband. Oh well, he’s already seen them anyway.

  He approached her with a smile and heat in his eyes. She grabbed the hoodie and slipped it over her head. “Oh my God, you’re huge.” She struggled to get her hands to the ends of the long sleeves. The garment hung to her knees. She glanced up to see his lips pressed together, like he was choking on a laugh. The corners of his eyes were crinkled and amusement flickered in his heated gaze. Her cheeks burned. “Derr’mo…. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s perfectly all right. The clothes are a little big on you.” His warm laugh rippled through the room.

  “A little,” she quipped with a smirk. “At least now you won’t be blinded by my underwear.”

  “It wasn’t as bad as you think.”

  She snorted through a giggle, rolling her eyes. Her stomach growled loudly, and her hands flew to try and cover the sound.

  He smiled. “I can make some dinner, if you’re hungry.”

  Ksenia raised her eyebrows. Food did sound good, but she needed to get hold of her father. “What time is it? What day is it?” How much time did I lose? Papa needs to know I’m safe.

  “Day before Christmas Eve. You wouldn’t have lasted out there overnight.”

  “I know. I wasn’t dressed to be in the weather. I was supposed to be on a plane.” She sighed and sat down on the bed. “Do you have a phone?”

  He inclined his head toward the nightstand where a black cell phone lay. She reached over and tapped the home button. The screen flashed, and a message displayed across the screen—No Service.

  “No service.” Shit. Now what?

  He nodded. “Storms usually knock my cell service out.”

  “Oh, no satellite phone or radio?”

  “Summit County doesn’t have money for satellite phones, and the storm last week took out my radio antenna. The parts to fix it haven’t come in yet.”

  “You don’t keep spare parts?”

  “No money in the budget for that.”

  “Thank you for saving my life. I would be dead if you hadn’t shot that man. My father will probably offer you a job when he meets you. Don’t take it though.” She frowned at his grin.

  “Let’s talk over something to eat. I have a few questions for you.”

  She followed him into the cozy eating nook in his kitchen, sat down on the cushioned bench, and crossed her legs. He continued over to the stovetop, put down a frying pan, and turned on a burner before proceeding to dig through the refrigerator.

  Her gaze wandered across the living area. The space was comfortable but undecorated. A brown couch and recliner faced the fireplace with a large flat-screen TV mounted above it. Even in the mountains, you can’t separate a man from his TV. She smiled and peered out into the swirling snowstorm. Two dark eyes and a pink nose suddenly pressed against the outside of the window.

  “Your dog is still outside.”

  He laughed. “Juno is on guard duty.”

  “Oh.” She paused and then introduced herself. “I’m Ksenia Sharanov.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. Matt O’Reilly at your service.” He winked and set a plate of eggs and toast spread with butter and strawberry jam in front of her. It smelled divine, and her stomach grumbled again. She was glad he didn’t recoil at her name. A lot of people did, and the police were always trailing a few steps behind, trying to get clues into her father’s business dealings.

  “Thank you.” She paused. “When you found me…. Didn’t you say you worked for the sheriff?”

  “You’re welcome, and yes, I did. I’m glad you remember. Makes me less worried about a concussion. You mentioned more would come. More men?”

  “Enemies of my father. There are at least two more kidnappers.” She shuddered and took a big bite of the crunchy toast. The strawberry jam was
so sweet. She licked her lips in appreciation. “I thought I was dead when I fell over the ledge. Then, again, when he was about to shoot me. They killed my bodyguard, Yuri. At least that’s how they made it seem.” Surely he didn’t betray me. Her eyes teared at the memory. She wiped them. “He’s been with me six years. Ever since freshman year in college.”

  He slid into the bench opposite her with another full plate. “You are safe with me. As soon as the storm clears, I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”

  She laid her fork on the table and picked up the second piece of toast. Her stomach grumbled again. “They are going to come looking for me. They won’t stop until they kill me.”

  “Not in this storm. Where are you from, and why do they want you dead?”

  “I’m from Moscow, but I am studying at NYU to get my Masters in Computer Engineering. So I’ve been living in New York for the past seven years.”

  “That’s why your English is so good.”

  She nodded, her mouth full of toast. After swallowing, she continued. “I came out here with my roommates to ski. I’m just glad their flight was delayed, or they would have been in the car with me when those goons attacked. My death will be retaliation for something my father did—” Too much information could implicate her father in the murders of the men who killed her brother, and she would never betray her family.

  “Will be? You speak as though it’s still going to happen.”

  She sighed. “That’s why I had a bodyguard. It’s not the first time they’ve tried, and it won’t be the last. This is the first time they’ve tried in the States, though.”

  He frowned and continued to eat. When they had both finished, he cleared the table and washed the dishes.

  A Marine and a cop. What are the chances? If anyone can be trusted, surely it’s him. The corners of her lips curved up. He had short dark hair with gray speckled in just above his ears. The service had been hard on him. She wondered how old he was…thirty-five, maybe? When he’d smiled at her, his whole face lit up. A guy hadn’t looked at her like that in a long time, not since Papa had chased Stephen off four years before and come to think of it, she couldn’t remember Stephen ever showing such desire.