Fatal Desire: The Black Widows Book 3

By Christina OW

All Derek Silva wants is to maintain the life he loves as is. The dangerous lifestyle that came with being a CIA agent with the license to kill. But his long time lover decides she wants a normal life, a slow and quiet life, to have a house and a family. He didn’t do normal and he definitely didn’t do slow and quiet. But saying no to a woman who went by Jackie the Ripper was a fatal risk only an idiot would take. Derek wasn’t known to be very bright.
All Elaine wants is a normal life, to no longer be Jackie the Reaper, the deadliest Black Widow alive. She wants the house with a white picket fence, the husband, the two point five kids and a dog. To be a wife and a mother not an assassin. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so because she had to drop a few bodies to get it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christina OW
• Release date: Aug 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463742822

Christina OW

I love reading novels that take me on a ride of wild emotions. Books have always been an escape for me, for a few hours i love to live the lives of characters i grow to cherish and admire. I've always had an active imagination and because of it I've lived inmy head more than i have been in the outside world. I've always imagined scene-rials and wondered how it would turn out in the end, and what kind of emotions it would invoke. I began writing down the many stories in my head in 2010 and it's been a wonderful journey ever since.I have a Diploma in Law and a BA in International Studies and Communications and Media Studies.Writing was never a career path for me it was just a release as fashion design is my true passion, and now writing has become a vital part of me and my family as my twin sister (M.O. Kenyan) is also a writer.I hope to always continue with my love of writing no matter what the future holds for me.

Book preview

FATAL DESIRE

All she wants is to live a normal life. So who does she have to kill to get that?

BLACK WIDOWS SERIES

BOOK #3

Romantic Suspense

Christina OW

Chapter One

Holland, November 2009

What the hell do you think you are doing?

Katarina Pajari looked up at her new assignment, Ellsa Jabari, her first ever babysitting gig. If the chic wasn’t a cool cat, they wouldn’t be having this conversation. Ellsa wouldn’t be having any kind of conversation with anyone, ever again. That’s how much Katarina hated babysitting operatives, especially when it’s clear they aren’t cut out for the job. She lived under the motto, ‘if you can’t do the job, get out of the game’, but Ellsa was a special circumstance.

Katarina looked her over with a keen eye. No twitching, no glassy eyes, sweating or incoherent speech. She looked okay, in control, stable. Sane. They still had some time then before things got hairy. Good. She really would hate killing her so early in their new friendship. It was day three and counting without an episode and she really hoped Ellsa stayed on the roll for the rest of the night or the week. Highly unlikely, but she was trying to be an optimist.

What does it look like I’m doing?

Katarina turned back to look through her scope lens at the man in the hotel room across the street. He was undressing now, slowly like a professional stripper giving a sensual, seductive dance with the slightest of movements for his captivated audience, showing off his rippling yummy muscles. The perceptive fucker. He was putting on a show. For her.

He knew she was watching. Katarina’s finger twitched on the trigger of the sniper rifle. She should put a round in his stupid mouth and destroy the web of desire he had her trapped in with one side of his mouth slightly lifted on one side. It was a seductive smile, like he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

The palm of a hand filled her view, Killing him won’t solve anything.

I beg to differ. Killing him would solve a slew of her problems and in particular one she was having at that very moment. She hated when someone toyed with her. She especially hated it when it was a sexual game against her; to test her, distract her, to defeat her. She used it on her marks and to have the tables turned on her just pissed her off enough to paint that floor length window with his brain matter.

When it was clear the palm wasn’t moving anytime soon, with a raged grumble, Katarina stood from where she lay stomach down on the table and glared at Ellsa, You have another solution?

Ellsa gave her an incredulous look as if the answer was right in front of her, dancing a gig on her nose and she couldn’t see it.

Yeah, scratch the itch and by scratch I mean fuck him not kill him. Just because a man drives you to distraction doesn’t automatically mean put a bullet in his head to get your concentration back.

Katrina scratched the nervous itch at the back of her head just below her hairline. Seeing Ellsa, this human side of her made her nervous. At the moment, she had this starry look in her eyes, a slight lift of her lips as if she was reliving a perfect memory and this pure look of contentment over her face. But that quickly disappeared and was replaced by a creased brow, wet eyes and trembling lips before she hid it all behind her perfected seductive assassin face.

I have a feeling you are speaking from experience and if I’m right, don’t you have a two-year-old running around somewhere because you scratched your itch?

Ellsa’s eyes narrowed threateningly, Katarina, that’s my son’s uncle. I will not let you kill him!

Fine! she responded through clenched teeth and stomped to their hotel room door with determined strides.

Where are you going? Ellsa called after her.

To scratch my fucking itch! she slammed the door shut behind her.

Five minutes later, she was at his door jimming the lock. It had occurred to her to just knock, but if he was a good spy, he wouldn’t be asleep in the same room he was exhibiting himself in. He’d walked in front of that floor to ceiling window drapes pulled all the way open so anyone could see the layout of his single room clearly. It was spy 101 when setting a trap. But then again he might be two kinds of idiot. The first, a cocky bastard who thinks he’s invisible because he’d survived a few brushes with death. The second, he was just a fool who didn’t pay attention in spy class and has been lucky not to be murdered in his bed, yet. But this guy, Derek Silva was not the latter. A little of the former, definitely. She was sure he was already in the adjoining room sound asleep.

She finally got the door unlocked, but she didn’t push it open right away. She straightened to her full height then gave it a little push. The door swung open slowly and noiselessly until it hit the wall. She stared into the darkness and listened. Not even a whisper of movement. She smirked. She was right, cocky bastard but not an idiot. Hopefully the same can be said about her.

She took a tentative step in, reached for the light switch by the door jam and right when she was about to flick it on, a massive hand wrapped around her wrist. Damn! She never considered he would move the bureau from where it sat before against the wall and close to the door to take its place. This was why she wanted to kill him, he muddled her thoughts. She let him pull her fully into the room. She felt him sidle up behind her, then the door shut taking away the little light from the hallway.

Katarina Pajari. Can’t say I’m surprised you dropped by, he got closer, his front pressing against her back, his grip still around her wrist. Katarina stayed very still.

She wasn’t surprised he knew who she was. She never made her identity a secret. She wanted people in her world to know who she was, so that when they saw her coming for them they would make the hunt a hell of a lot more fun. But mostly, she wanted one man, in particular, to know what she was, a nightmare of his own creations. She wanted him to easily recognize her work as an incentive to stay the hell away from her.

But that was a story for another day.

Katarina cursed herself. The entire thing was a setup. She knew the exhibition was to distract her but not to draw her to his room and trap her. She knew he wanted to be noticed, but she never thought further as to explain why, because she was too busy drooling over his orgasmic body. If she got out of this alive, she was going to show Ellsa where she could stuff her opinions. She should have just scratched him, and by scratch she meant kill him. Now, she had to wait and see the move he made next. Only amateurs made the first swing without taking a moment to assess the situation.

What I would like to know is why you honor me with a visit.

The easy way he spoke, it was as if she was a neighbor, stopping by to ask for a cup of sugar.

Bad advice from a soon to be dead friend, she grumbled.

Damn the darkness. She could have looked around the room for possible weapons. Trying to reach for the knife in her boot would alert him and she was at a disadvantage if he had a gun close by. She didn’t carry guns. That was Ellsa’s thing. Katarina preferred a blade; it was up close and personal. She had an entire variety of them. Guns were a last ditch option for her.

Oh really? What exactly did your friend send you in here to do? he brought her hand behind her back, pulled it up until her fingers touched the back of her neck. Her shoulders pinched, but she refused to show it. Sorry for the discomfort but I don’t trust you not to try anything while I search you.

She snorted, If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead right now.

He chuckled, Oh really?

She felt him squat then his hand moved up her right leg and down her left. She smiled. He never once bothered to check her boots. She was going to give Andres a fat bonus for his great custom job on them.

Yup. It’s because I wanted to kill you that has led me to this situation.

He paused for a second before his hand kept moving slowly up her left leg. He was being thorough with the body search. Good for him.

What exactly is ‘this situation’?

Scratching an itch, she answered nonchalantly.

He stopped altogether, let go of her wrist and stepped away. The next instant the room was flooded with light. Still she didn’t move from where she stood. A great fit for a predator like herself.

She felt more than heard him move around her, his feet very light on the thinly carpeted floor. He stood in front of her and she got to appreciate all that had her drooling from across the street, up close and personal. He wore black from head to toe and his latte skin looked even more appealing. Before, when she’d watched him through her scope, he’d been shirtless, in flannel blue pants that hang dangerously low on his hips and barefoot. He looked so at ease moving around the room, she was envious. He must be prepared, with weapons strategically placed around the room. He was cocky with a reason—though he should have checked her front and boots. She had just as many knives sewn into her jacket as she had in her boots. When he pressed himself into her back, she knew he was looking for a weapon there.

Derek was good at what he did. Probably one of the reasons she wanted to curve up his pretty face. And that was the other thing, he was prettier than she was. He had these grey-green eyes that were hypnotic, full pinkish enticing lips and had a strip of hair from the bottom of his lower lip that joined that at his chin that ran from one end of his jaw to the other before joining his side burns. The top of his head was full of curly short black hair.

His eyes narrowed and he looked her over from head to toe and back up, Katarina, what are you doing here?

I thought we’ve already been through that?

He gave her a crooked smile, You want me to help you scratch an itch?

She rolled her eyes, it’s light picking at the CIA, huh Derek? she waved his shocked look off, Yeah, I also know who you are Derek Silva. In fact, I know a lot more than what I’m comfortable with. This is the fifth time I’ve seen you and I don’t think it’s a coincidence.

He had his flirty smile back on, No?

No, because I don’t believe in coincidences. She started unbuttoning her jacket, You had your reason why you were parading half naked in front of your window. Right now, I don’t care to know it. I’d rather we get to what brought me here. Scratch my itch.

His eyes flared with desire as he watched her strip and yet his body language said how much he distrusted her. Once she was stripped down to her bra and boy short panties, she made a three-sixty turn, See, no concealed weapons.

He shook his head, Black Widows are known for their ability to hide weapons in plain sight. One of you is known for using a garrote as a headband. Run your hand through your hair.

She snorted. What exactly could she hide in her hair do? Her hair was as short as his and most of it sat around her forehead temple to temple. At the top, her hair was twice as long as the back at four inches filled with red streaks and combed to the right side. But she did it anyway, ruffling and messing it up.

Satisfied?

With a quirk in his lips, he said, Not quite yet. Strip it all off.

Oh for crying out loud!

Katarina was getting tired of this fast. Quickly she reached for her boot, grabbed the hilt of her favorite knife that was disguised as a buckle and pulled it out. She dropped further into a crouch and swiped his legs from under him. He landed hard on his back and she quickly straddled him, grabbing the neckline of his shirt with her free hand.

I’m on a schedule and I don’t have time to play pussyfoot with you. Once we screw, I’ll be right as rain and you’ll be out of my system. Now, you either strip or I’ll cut your clothes off. She felt his crotch swell under her, Derek, does having a knife to your throat turn you on?

What do you think? he asked hoarsely, pushing his pelvis up, thrusting his crotch into hers.

My, my Derek Silva. Don’t you just get high on danger? How much hornier would you get if I spilled some blood? Not much, just a little. She pressed the sharp edge of the knife into his collarbone, nicking him a little and drawing just a drop of blood.

He didn’t even flinch. Instead his lips spread into a full blown smile, Oh, I think I’m in love.

Things progressed quickly from there. His clothes, well his shirt at least suffered the knife, but his jeans dropped off quickly enough. They never made it to the bed, just went at each other like crazy horny beasts on the floor. Her back and ass were hot from the friction from the carpet, but she was too high with pleasure to care about carpet burns. Her nipples on the other hand fell in love with the carpet when he pinned her down on her stomach and took her from behind. She loved that she was right about him. Derek knew his stuff and amazing sex ranked very high on his skillset. Once they were done, laying side by side exhausted, their bodies twitching from the aftershocks of beyond fantastic orgasms, she knew there was no way this was a one time thing.

So, he started through heavy breathing, Should I get your number or do you want mine?

She chuckled, turning to her side to face him, I think we’ll find each other again, like we always do.

He smiled, his eyes still closed, Good. I’m not about to give up this high anytime soon. In our line of work, I think we deserve it. We are technically not breaking any rules.

She rolled back onto her back, her smile slipping, I don’t have any rules to break, but I’m sure you do.

He patted her naked thigh, Hey, I’m good at what I do. No one will find out.

For your sake, I hope so. She was sitting up when the sound of glass breaking filled the room. She went to reach for her knife, but Derek had already rolled on top of her, his gun pulled and pointed out the window.

Derek?

Stay still. Someone just shot at us from your room. His voice was hard, harsh. They were back to business. It was good to see his recovery time was