1941002110 (R) (29 page)

G
RIGORI
A
NDROV WAS FURIOUS
. It was after three in the morning, and his lawyer had finally gotten him released from the jail where he’d spent the past several hours since those military assholes had handed him over to the police. He’d had a lot of time to think and to plan.

Open Sky would get to work immediately. They would discover the identities of every man who had been in that room with the asshole who’d threatened him—and then they would pay. He would not be the one destroyed, because he would destroy them first.

Yes, this was a huge mess now. His files were in the hands of the police, and no doubt now in the hands of the prosecutor in New York who’d pushed that bitch of a maid to file charges against him.

But he had money and power, and he was willing to use them. He would not lose everything he’d worked for because someone thought they could threaten him. Oh no, he would show them a thing or two—and they would be the ones who died painful deaths, not him. Even if it took him ten years, he would get them all. The last thing they would hear would be his name.

After his lawyer dropped him off, he called Sergei from the hotel phone. He’d had his cell phone returned to him when he’d been released, but the battery was dead. He tossed it on a table and dialed from memory.

The phone rang and rang, but Sergei did not answer. Grigori curled his free hand into a fist as anger whipped through him like a tornado. Sergei had failed at everything he’d been asked to do. He’d returned from Paris with nothing to show for it. He’d failed to get the flash drive back. He’d sent men to capture Sophie and her protector, but they’d failed to do the job and gotten themselves killed in the process.

Failed, failed, failed. Everyone had failed, and Grigori was ready to rip someone apart for this disaster.

But Sergei did not answer. He stabbed the disconnect button with a finger when it went to voice mail. Then he dialed another number.

This was not one he should dial tonight, but he was too angry to care. The voice that answered was cold, deadly. “You are not calling from an authorized number. Who the hell is this?”

“Androv.”

The voice on the other end chilled even further. “What the fuck is this, Androv? Are you insane?”

“You are going to find out some things for me. If you do not, the money I’m pumping into your campaign will dry up, do you understand me?”

“I’m listening.”

When he finally hung up the phone, Grigori was quite certain that Mark DeWitt understood precisely where he was coming from. He started to remove his suit and prepare for bed, but there was a knock on his door. He went over and looked through the peephole. Then he yanked the door open when he saw who was on the other side.

“Where the fuck have you been? And what went wrong in Paris?” Grigori demanded. “What has happened to you, Sergei? You have never been this incompetent, this stupid—”

His mouth snapped shut at the sight of Sergei—his right-hand man, his coconspirator, the architect of so much of what they’d built—leveling a pistol at him.

“You’ve said quite enough, Grigori. It’s time to shut the fuck up.”

Sergei jerked the pistol and Grigori took a step back. Another man stepped through the door then, a big, hulking man who also held a pistol. This one had a silencer on it.

“What is this, Sergei? You would betray me? I built you into what you are today!”

Sergei laughed. “No, I built you. And now I’ve been ordered to tear you down. We’re done, Grigori.”

Grigori’s heart hammered. “You would kill me after everything we’ve been through? We are brothers, Sergei.”

Sergei looked almost sad as he shook his head. “No, I won’t kill you. I can’t. But Oleg can.”

“You’re insane,” Grigori hissed. “Insane!”

“You’ve taken too many risks, Grigori. You’ve let your ego outweigh your caution, and that is not good. You cannot be trusted any longer.”

“Don’t do this, Sergei,” Grigori pleaded. “We can fix everything. They have no proof, no way of making it stick to me—”

“You’re a loose cannon. It is time.” Sergei looked at Oleg, who nodded his big head without ever taking his gaze off Grigori.

“Got it from here, boss,” he said.

Sergei walked out the door and Grigori turned to run. If he could make it to the bathroom, he could lock the door and—

He dropped before he’d taken the first step.

O
NCE HE REACHED THE CAR
, Sergei picked up his private cell phone and dialed a number.

“Is it done?” the man on the other end clipped out.

“Yes. You may rest assured that Zoprava’s support of your campaign will continue. We trust that your support of us will continue as well.”

“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. So long as it stays that way, I see no reason for either of us to pull out of the deal.”

“
Do svidaniya
, Congressman.”

Sergei punched the button to end the call. Then he started to whistle.

S
OPHIE SLEPT
. When she woke up, she felt woozy, kind of hungover, but mostly she felt okay. She turned her head and saw she was in a room with some seriously nice furniture. Silk drapes, antiques, tall ceilings that looked like they belonged in a historic home. She pushed herself up on an elbow and took in her surroundings.

A hotel perhaps. A nice one.

But the door opened and a familiar figure walked in. He was carrying a tray, and her heart leapt with joy. When he looked up, his eyes tangled with hers—and the truth hit her hard.

She was a goner. A total goner for this man.

He did not feel the same way; she knew that. And it hurt so much, like someone had taken a hot poker and jammed it right into her heart. It was excruciating, and yet she was just desperate enough to keep on feeling it so long as he didn’t go away.

“You’re awake.” His smile was like sunshine after weeks of stormy skies.

“Where are we?”

He came over and set the tray on the table beside the bed. “At Hawk and Gina’s place.”

She blinked at him. “I…”

“Waterman’s Cove on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Cute town, historic. Gina bought this place when they got married, and they live here most of the year. Hawk’s not in, uh, the military anymore, but this is still one of our homes away from home.”

Sophie processed this. “I don’t remember coming here.”

“You were pretty out of it. The doc says Androv injected you with fentanyl in order to control you. Once she determined you were going to be okay, we brought you to Hawk’s since I don’t have a place anymore.”

A twinge of guilt spiked inside her. “I’m sorry. I know it’s my fault.”

He sat on the bed and put his hand against her cheek, into her hair. Her skin flamed where he touched. Oh, she wanted more of that. So much more.

“It’s stuff, Sophie. Stuff is replaceable.”

She swallowed. “What happened to Grigori?”

Chase’s mouth tightened, his eyes hardening for a second. But then he smiled and ran his thumb along her cheekbone. “He’s not going to hurt you, Sophie. Not ever again.”

She sucked in a breath. “You didn’t—?”

She couldn’t say it. She didn’t want another man on Chase’s conscience for her sake, but she was very much afraid that he did.

“No, it wasn’t me,” he said, and relief washed through her. “We turned him over to the police. He bonded out eventually—and someone shot him in his hotel. It was on the news a couple of hours ago. No idea what happened, but he’s dead.”

“Oh my God.”

“Are you sorry he’s dead?”

She shook her head. “No… and maybe that makes me a terrible person, but no, I’m really not. It’s still a shock though.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. But I’m glad someone iced him. Saved me the trouble if he ever got near you again.”

“I was afraid he’d killed you. When I woke up and realized I’d been kidnapped, I thought the worst.”

And her heart had nearly broken in two.

“They only tased me, thank God.”

“Did it hurt?”

He grinned. “Not as much as the ass-chewing I got from my colonel last night.”

She blinked. “I thought he was helping us. Hawk said he’d been informed when he came and that he’d given us the passports. I assumed that meant he was on our side.”

“Oh, he was helping and he’s definitely on our side—but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to ream me when he got a chance. Going to Paris technically made me AWOL. Colonels don’t like that shit, even when the ends justify the means.”

Her fault. She’d pretty much given him no choice when she’d shown up and gotten his apartment blasted to bits. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble.”

Chase hadn’t stopped touching her. His fingers stroked along her skin, leaving little tingles of sensation in their path. “And I’m sorry we fought, Sophie.”

Her heart clenched with pain. The hurt from their fight hadn’t gone away yet. “You said we didn’t have anything special, that you could get pu—”

She didn’t finish that sentence because his lips crashed down on hers. She opened to his invasion, moaning softly as he kissed her. Her nipples beaded tight and her pussy grew wet.

He pulled away from her all too soon, even while she clung to him, and smiled softly as he stood and reached for the tray.

“Look, you need to have this breakfast before it gets cold. You haven’t eaten since you picked at that pizza, and you need to be strong for this conversation.”

She scooted her way up in the bed, dragging the sheet with her. Then she lifted it and looked under. “I’m not wearing anything!”

“When we found you, all you had on was some underwear and a trench coat. I wasn’t letting you wear that shit to sleep in.”

She felt herself blushing, which was ridiculous, but it was the way he said he wasn’t letting her wear the things they’d found her in, as if they were poisonous somehow.

And maybe they were, considering Grigori had likely had his hands all over them. She shuddered, and though she tried not to let it show, Chase saw it.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Her throat was tight. “I don’t know what happened last night, Chase. How do I know he didn’t…?”

She couldn’t finish the sentence. Chase set the tray down and then took her face in his hands, making her look at him.

“Honey, the doc verified it when she examined you—no one raped you. No one.” He kissed her forehead. “Grigori was trying to sell you to a Mexican named Benito Rodriguez, according to the woman who was in the car. She says she was with you from the moment they grabbed you at Hawk’s.”

“How did they know where to find us?”

The corners of his mouth tightened. “We don’t know that yet. We may never know.” He nodded to the tray. “Now eat those eggs before they get cold.”

He let her go and she picked up the fork. She dug into the eggs without much enthusiasm—but after the first bite, she was sold. She really was hungry, and she ate several bites before she looked up at Chase.

He was watching her eat. He didn’t look angry or conflicted at all. He looked… content. She put down her fork and tilted her head as she gazed at him.

“What?”

“You’re eating like you don’t give a fuck. I like that.”

Her cheeks felt rosy. Damn him. “Well, maybe I don’t. This time.”

“You never should, babe. You’re gorgeous. The only ugly people are the ones who tell you that you need to change to suit their definition of beauty.”

“You say stuff like that and it makes my chest hurt.”

His brows drew together. “Why?”

“Because nobody ever said anything like that to me. I like that you do… but I don’t know what it means, Chase. Because I don’t know where you’re coming from. And I don’t know whether to just be happy and believe you or to worry that in the next few hours everything will change.”

She could kick herself for going there right now when all she wanted was to sit here, eat the eggs, and enjoy the fact he was with her. The simple things. Just for a few hours, until it all went to shit again and he got pissed off at their situation and told her there was nothing here worth fighting for.

“I said I was going to be here for you. I meant that. I said some stupid things last night—and I don’t want to say anything stupid now, so please just eat the eggs.”