Her Body, His Bargain

A Stranger In The Dark

CHAPTER ONE

Blood slicked her side, soaking through her shirt.

The port was far behind her now. Only the occasional gunshot cracked through the night.

Her legs were useless.

One arm dragged against the gravel, pulling her forward inch by inch. Blood marked the ground behind her like a trail. Every breath scorched her lungs.

She wasn't dead—

but she was close.

Her uncle had betrayed her and left her for dead. He had sent his men after her, knowing exactly what they would do if they caught her.

Sergei.

The thought alone made her anger burn through the pain.

That bastard.

She had trusted him.

And he had repaid her with this.

Elizabeth clenched her teeth and forced herself forward. She wasn't going to die here. Not like this.

After crawling for what seemed like forever, she collapsed beside one of the containers to catch her breath, her arm finally giving out beneath her. Still, she struggled to hide between two cargo containers until her strength finally ran out.

Elizabeth laughed quietly to herself. So this was how she was going to die. After all it took to build the life she lived, this was how it would end.

She closed her eyes.

For the first time that night, she stopped fighting.

Then she heard it.

An engine growled in the distance.

A sleek black car rolled to a stop nearby. The headlights carved through the dust and darkness, landing on her and forcing her to squint against the brightness.

Two men stepped out.

Cold air swept past as one of them stepped onto the concrete. He didn't flinch at the sound of distant gunfire. To him, violence was ordinary. Predictable. Useful when necessary.

He moved with quiet precision, his long black coat brushing against his ankles. Sharp cheekbones stood out beneath the dim light, and calm eyes fixed entirely on her. The second man remained beside the car.

He had been on his way out of the seaport when the sight of a woman crawling between the containers caught his attention. So did the trail of blood she left behind.

When he reached her, he crouched beside her, his gloved fingers brushing lightly against her throat.

She was alive.

Her eyelids fluttered heavily before her eyes opened.

Dark and defiant even now.

Elizabeth tried to move, one hand landing against the cold concrete as she tried to push herself up.

It was no use.

Her body refused to obey her. She hated it. She hated that she was too weak to defend herself.

"Don't," she rasped.

Her voice was weak, but the warning in it wasn't.

"Don't touch me."

He stopped.

Behind him, Leonardo lowered his voice.

"Anyone familiar?"

He ignored the question.

He watched her, curiosity flickering beneath the calm mask he wore so well.

Then he leaned closer, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

"You're safe now."

Elizabeth scoffed.

Safe?

She didn't believe him, but she had no strength left to fight him.

His eyes remained on her, observing her injuries. Blood streaked from her temple. Her knees were scraped raw. Not to mention the bullet wounds in both her shoulders and thighs. How she was still alive remained a mystery to him.

"She's still breathing," he finally said aloud.

Then he removed his coat and wrapped it carefully around her shoulders before sliding one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back.

He lifted her effortlessly.

Elizabeth looked up at the stranger carrying her, his expression impossible to read, but she couldn't help noticing his pale grey eyes. They seemed almost silver beneath the dim port lights.

Blood stained the crisp white of his shirt as he approached the car. She hoped desperately he wasn't working for her uncle.

Leonardo opened the back door.

"Gio..."

He ignored him.

He placed her carefully into the seat, like something valuable that hadn't yet realized its worth.

Leonardo stayed near the car, scanning the darkness.

"Could be a trap."

He looked at him.

"No."

His voice remained calm and certain.

"She's too far gone for that."

His eyes returned to Elizabeth.

For a moment, he studied her longer than necessary.

Her curls were full and long, falling effortlessly across her face. His eyes lingered on them for a moment before his lips curved slightly.

He reached out and gently brushed the curls away from her face.

It took the chill of the night to pull him back to reality.

He closed the door and walked around to the passenger seat, gently placing her head on his leg.

"Drive," he ordered.

"Where to?"

"The hotel. Have the doctor treat her there."

Leonardo pulled the car into the night. Silence settled inside, with both men saying nothing to each other. The only noise was Elizabeth's heavy breathing, constantly reminding them she was still alive.

His gaze remained on her, even as the city passed outside the window.

Who is she?

The question lingered in his mind.

"Maestro," Leonardo finally broke the silence, glancing at him through the mirror. "You sure about this?"

He rested his back against the seat, his eyes closed.

"No."

A pause.

"But we're doing it anyway."

That was the part that unsettled him most.

He wasn't impulsive.

He didn't rescue strangers.

He didn't interrupt business for dying women at ports.

Yet here she was.

Wrapped in his coat.

Bleeding onto his clothes. And breathing heavily beside him.