Page 32 of Lord of Passion

He nods, smoothly breaking into the conversation, talking about some civil servant from some office and they exchange stories about all the bribes the official has taken.

Nikandr was wrong. It did not take Alexsey and Vasilisa fifteen to twenty minutes to come get us.

It took eight.

There is a resounding crash from the roof, a symphony of shattering glass and breaking wood, as Alexsey comes pounding down the stairs on the opposite side of the living room with his gun out and ten men behind him. The elevator door opens and Vasilisa bursts through with her own contingent of guards.

Within seconds, the room is bristling with weapons, the vast majority of them pointing straight at Dariy.

"Now, now," he says reproachfully. "There is no need for this. We were simply having a pleasant conversation. I was asking yourSovietnikabout his wedding to the beautiful Caroline Morozova."

Alexsey is good, I'll give him that. There's not even a flicker of surprise when he hears the "happy" news of our nuptials. "A strange way to celebrate the newlyweds, by kidnapping them," he says with a grin that looks ready to take a bite out of our host.

"Well," Dariy allows. "There were other considerations to be had. First, your Bratva's movement against my humbleorganization. It seems you have abandoned me for other clients and I amdeeplyaggrieved at the lack of respect."

I'm dead silent, barely breathing, not moving a muscle as I watch this performative little standoff. They're talking business, smiling pleasantly, and guns still trained on everyone. I have a feeling if I turn my head, there will probably be one pointing right at me…

"AsSovietnik,"Nikandr says smoothly, "I am happy to discuss resumption of sales and shipment between us, but not after such an aggressive and inhospitable move. Tomorrow, you will join us atOtel' «Tsaritsa»where we were taken," he adds pointedly. "We will eat together and discuss your concerns."

Alexsey moves to stand beside me, his arm sweeps out and I hear a gun clatter to the floor. Yep, sure enough, somebody did have one pointed at the back of my head.

"In the meantime," Alexsey says, "you are upsetting the newest member of our family and I fear that my wife Liria would be inconsolable if she knew how her beloved cousin had been treated."

Dariy's face falls into folds of practiced sorrow. "My dear Caroline Morozova," he says, "I do hope for your forgiveness. It is clear that you are a gentle, cultured creature." Alexsey just barely holds in a snort. "You are unused to our harsh ways. I vow to be more of a gentleman tomorrow, no?"

I try to give out a lady-like sigh. "Thank you, Dariy Agapov. I do appreciate your kindness."

"Tomorrow then," he says, before his face droops in sad folds again. "It is a true shame that you have been taken. In any other negotiation, I would have given anything to have you as part of the bargain." He hastily raises his hands up again, as Nikandrleans forward with a very convincing growl. "No insult intended, of course!" Dariy says insincerely. "But you cannot blame me for yearning after a woman as beautiful as her."

Oh,my godI hate this man.

It takes seconds for us to get hustled back into the elevator, watching the numbers drop. The elevator car is packed with men and guns and me. An intimidating line of armored SUVs are waiting for us in the street, blocking traffic. No one honks.

I'm back in a luxury car that smells like expensive leather and a whiff of gunpowder, a scent that I'm becoming very familiar with.

Alexsey is on one side of me and Nikandr on the other. They're both staring at me.

"What?" I demand defensively.

Nudging my shoulder with his in a brotherly way, Alexsey says, "We're waiting for you to fall apart, screaming and crying and the other things civilians do."

"I'm not really a civilian. I'm from a low-level crime family, remember? But give me a minute," I say, staring out at the crowded street, at girls in bright dresses and roaming herds of men darting in and out of clubs and scampering across the street. None of them had a gun pointed at them this evening.

Guns.

More than one.

Or got propositioned by Jabba the Hut.

Chapter Fifteen

In which some arms dealers are the most gossipy bitches in Moscow.

Nikandr…

"So, the flowery language," Caroline rambles. "What the hell is that? I thought I was in some Edwardian castle, listening to the courtiers fancy-talk each other."

When we are back at the hotel, she accompanies me to my suite without argument and I gently herd her into one of the guest rooms.