Chapter 12

When Yulia walks through the door to Curtis’ apartment she finds the man sitting in a chair in the living room sipping on a glass of whiskey. “Well look what the cat dragged in,” he sneers.

“I am in trouble,” Yulia professes.

“I’d say you are,” he says, gulping down the remainder of the glass before letting it drop to the carpeted floor. Then he climbs out of the chair and steps toward her. “You’ve stepped in some serious shit.”

“I do not know how it happened,” she continues, oblivious to his tone. “I ... I finished fucking him and then he was dead.”

Curtis stops right in his tracks. “What?”

“The homeless man that I was made to fuck,” she answers. “But he changed. Then it was him. Then he disappeared. Then the man was dead.”

Curtis is having trouble following the random sputtering of the woman. Suddenly he finds that his anger toward her has melted. Here standing before him is the most vulnerable woman he has ever come across. For all her toughness, she is obviously weak. He was ready to slam her down, cuff her and then haul her in. But now all he wants to do is hold her. He cannot explain it. Maybe it was what he saw or felt the first time he met her, maybe it is something else entirely. Regardless of what it is, the man feels now that he needs to protect her rather than arrest her. “Start from the beginning,” he says, taking her by the waist and guiding her over to the couch.

Yulia explains everything she remembers to the man. “I do not understand what is going on,” she says when she catches him up.

“I don’t either,” he admits. “But you are wanted by the department. You are linked to at least two known murders and suspected in all the ones happening here.”

“What two murders?” she asks.

“Well, there is the girl you fucked when I took you to that massage parlor—Sun Ya,” he begins. “And then there is Cindy Adams, known as Cruz. There are witnesses that came forward and identified you.”

“That’s crazy...” she says, though reflecting back on the homeless man that she doesn’t even remember killing, it may not be.

“Unless Erlos can materialize out of thin air there isn’t any other explanation,” Curtis offers. “And then with this and the murders, especially not fitting with the ones known to be Erlos...”

“I am being set up... ?”

“I don’t know,” the man says with a shrug. “But it does all seem too suspicious now that I know the whole story.”

“So what does that mean for me?” she inquires, looking up at him by lifting her eyes and not her head.

“I’m going to do what I can to protect you,” he says. “I’ll delay and I’ll get you somewhere safe until we figure this out and get the proof we need to clear you.”

“Why you doing this?” she asks.

“Because ... I don’t know,” he answers with a shrug. “Maybe I believe you. Maybe I think there is something special about you.”

Yulia lifts her head and looks at the man. She has looked at him before, but not really looked at him until now. She finds him ruggedly handsome for an American. His hands are strong like the rest of him. He fills out his clothes with his muscular frame. And from the bulge in his pants she knows he has nothing to worry about in that department. Still looking at him right now, she finds herself idly wondering what it would be like to take the plunge with a partner. She never did with Alexei, but she often wondered—even fantasized. Her fingers itch to touch him. She wonders if his muscles would twitch beneath them or would his skin feel hot. For now Erlos is not the object of her desire, Curtis is...

No! She cannot think like this. He is willing to help her despite the overwhelming suspicion and evidence, even if it is circumstantial. He looks at her. “Thank you.”

He shrugs. “I don’t like seeing innocent people taking a wrap for something they’re not guilty of.” His mouth curves into a smile despite the circumstances. “Hey...” He reaches out to stroke her face. His hands drop to her waist and he pulls her across the couch toward him.

“Curtis...”

“No detective?” he asks. But before she can reply, he brushes his mouth against hers. The words evaporated in her mouth before they are even formed as he deepens the kiss, exploring her lips and sending all kinds of delicious sensations through her body, far away from his mouth. His kiss comes from somewhere deep inside him as if it has been waiting since that moment they met at the airport.

When he releases her, Yulia’s mouth still tastes him. He strokes it with a finger and she feels her breath hitch. “What was that?”

He arches a brow, a smile hints on the mouth that had just pleasured her. “A kiss...”

Yulia just tilts her head looking at him reproachfully while still in his embrace. “I know, but why?”

The man sighs, stroking his back with his hands, sliding the material of her clothes against her skin. She closes her eyes because she wants those hands on her bare skin, but...

Then he kisses her again—more powerfully this time and she feels the nudge of his tongue against her lips until they part to allow him to slide right in. Yulia nearly jumps as he strokes the inside of her mouth. Almost immediately she feels heat building and wetness too between her thighs. Maybe she should stop this because she is now a wanted woman in a foreign country and his career and life could be on the line. Yet instead, she just kisses him back. It feels so intense, more than she ever thought it would and certainly more than should be allowed.