Page 80 of Stolen By the Billionaire
“Right.” He shouldn’t have asked. “This is Sarah Bell. She’s the target of an organized crime hit.”
Sarah leaned over, extending her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Magnus Jensen paused, evaluating Sarah’s offered hand, then shook it and nodded. “A pleasure.” He dropped her hand and turned back to Blaze. “I heard your conversation with Savoie. The White Russians?”
“And that’s why I called when four targets attacked my house.”
Magnus Jensen nodded. “An appropriate response. We have confirmation that there is evidence of target neutralization on the pool deck. We’ll take care of it in the morning. There is no evidence of further infiltration. I have ten operators in position around the house, variously armed. I will notify you if there is a threat.”
“Thanks, Magnus,” Blaze said.
Sarah announced, “I was just about to make a pot of coffee. Would you like some?”
A slight softening in Magnus’s shoulders was his first sign of humanity. “I would appreciate a cup of coffee.”
“How do you take it?”
“Black, please.”
“Sure enough,” Sarah said and walked toward the kitchen.
Blaze watched her as she walked past the dining table toward the kitchen, her body swaying around her waist. His hand was still warm from her back through her tee shirt.
Holding her in his arms earlier in the gym had warmed the cold killer instinct that had flared inside him. Blaze had fought the urge to push her away because he was that cold murderer and should not be thawed, but now he couldn’t stand not touching her.
She turned the corner and was out of his sight.
Aaron Savoie said from his position by the cold fireplace, “This house is exposed.”
Blaze nodded. “It’s supposed to be a good investment. I didn’t think I’d need to defend my castle in the Chicago suburbs.”
“And yet it’s fortified. What is that glass?”
“Some sort of polycarbonate. It might not be commercially available.” Blaze hadn’t been able to sleep in the house until his buddies from the US Naval Construction Battalions, or CB, or Seabees, had rebuilt his house, and he’d still been restless until his SEAL Team buddies had wired it to be defensible. “I’m not stupid.”
Aaron Savoie snorted a laugh. “So, why are the White Russians coming after your woman?”
“She’s not my woman,” Blaze admitted.
Savoie took his eyes off the pool deck for a second and glanced at Blaze.
He explained, “I only officially met her yesterday.” He glanced at his watch. “But it’s Thursday now, so it was the day before yesterday.”
“Officially? Why the weasel word?” Savoie asked.
“I’ve been tracking Sarah for weeks. The White Russian mob boss, Mary Varvara Bell, is blackmailing me. I thought Sarah was a weakness of hers, so I threatened Sarah to get Mary V off my back.”
“Bell,” Savoie said, picking up on Sarah’s and Mary Varvara’s common surname.
“Sarah is her niece,” Blaze said.
“Right. What’d you do?”
Meaning, what did MVB have on Blaze to blackmail him. “I accepted a loan I shouldn’t have.”
Aaron looked at him, eyebrows raised. “You needed money?”
“It was years ago, and it was the seed money for it all.” He waved one hand in the air, vaguely including the house. “I was twenty years old and fresh out of BUD/S.”
