Mafia Hitman's Daring Lover (The Karzhov Crime Family Series Book 2) by Leslie North Page B

firearms.”
    “Class?”
    “The police academy. Nobody thought I could do it, but I showed them all. And I’m going to show them all once again when I catch Ivan.”
    “Whoa! Back up a minute.” Grigori opened the door to his room, shouldered his way inside, and set her down on the nearest bed. “Police academy?” God, had he just accosted a cop? She didn’t seem like a cop. Way to go, Gri! The first woman to interest you in forever, and she’s on the wrong side of the law.
    “Yep.” Desi didn’t feel like herself. Between her earlier injuries, the stress of the last hour, and the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on, she felt almost giddy and not quite herself. What’s wrong with me?
    Grigori went to the minibar and opened one of the small bottles of vodka and a can of cranberry juice. Mixing the two, he swirled it and handed it to her. “Drink.”
    Desi sniffed the liquid and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t usually drink.” She looked up at him with wide, tear-stained eyes, and he abruptly turned away from her.
    “Drink it anyway. It will help calm you down.”
    “But…,” Desi began to argue, but then she stopped as Grigori took another bottle of vodka and downed it all in one long swallow. When he met her gaze in the large mirror situated over the desk, she looked away quickly and took a small sip of the drink.
    The vodka was strong but the cranberry juice made it tolerable, and she slowly sipped it, looking at her hands between sips. She closed her eyes as the alcohol began to work its way through her system and listened as he began to move around the room.
    She opened her eyes when she felt him take the glass from her hands, and as she looked up at him, her breath caught in her throat. The chemistry between them was potent and the atmosphere in the hotel room was suddenly tense, with just a hint of danger lurking in the shadows.
    “I should go,” Desi murmured, still watching his eyes.
    “No.” Grigori sat beside her on the bed, letting his hand drift over the crown of her head before it slid along the back of her skull. When she gasped in pain and lurched away from him, he grabbed her by the shoulders. “What the hell?”
    He turned her around and parted her hair so he could see the large purplish bump on the back of her head. “Did you do this when you hit the concrete yesterday?”
    Desi reached up and gingerly probed the large bump on her head. “I guess so. I had a headache all day yesterday, but—”
    “ Derr mo .” Grigori turned her back around and lifted her head up with a finger under her chin. He gazed into her eyes, then narrowed his at how uneven her pupils seemed. She’s got a concussion.
    He tipped her head this way and that, cursing once more in Russian, before he left her and headed into the bathroom.
    Desi watched him go, a bemused expression on her face. She didn’t feel all that well, and while she knew there was something she needed to be doing, the soft mattress beneath her butt was softly calling her to lie down and take a short nap.
    Giving into that urge, she scooted back onto the bed and curled into a ball, pulling her knees into her chest to help hold herself together. Her head hurt and her nose and between her eyes were throbbing in time with her heartbeat once again, and between the alcohol and the adrenaline drop, she couldn’t fight the need for sleep one more minute.
    Grigori filled a glass with water, poured two aspirin out of the bottle, and wet a washcloth with warm water. He glanced at himself in the bathroom mirror and stared. What the fuck are you doing? You’re supposed to be finding a way to get to Leonid and ridding the world of the Ryndin brothers. Not playing nursemaid to some girl with a death wish.
    Grigori shook his head at his reflection and headed back into the bedroom. He stopped upon seeing Desi curled up on the bed. She had her head pillowed on her folded hands and her knees drawn up to her chest, and she looked so young. He once