Crossing the Line (25 page)

She jumped as Petrenko offered her a brown envelope. “A little gift.”

Her fingers shook as she pulled out the photographs. One glance and they fell from her fingers, the champagne she’d swallowed surging up her throat. Vasily’s friends. Aleksei retrieved the pictures, grimaced and returned them to the envelope. Katya dragged herself under control. What was Petrenko doing? Trying to make her grateful? No, he wasn’t a fool. It was a threat.

“I have another job for whoever did that,” she said.

Petrenko tilted his head. “What sort of job?”

“Punishing a man who’s destroyed my life.” Though she doubted she could turn Kirill against Petrenko.

“I hope you don’t mean Aleksei.” Petrenko tsked.

“Did Kirill do that?” She could barely speak, there was so little air in her lungs.

“You have a big mouth,” Petrenko snarled.

“Are you going to tell him to kill me too?”

Aleksei put his hand over her lips. “That’s enough. Shut up.”

They waited for their cars outside the restaurant, music escaping from the bars and clubs, the air thick and humid. Fear swamped her. Petrenko walked past Beth and put his arm around Katya’s shoulders to draw her away from Aleksei but Aleksei tugged her back.

“Back off a moment,” Petrenko snapped. “Many witnesses around. Don’t make a scene.”

Aleksei released his hold and Viktor drew her closer. She shrank under his touch and he chuckled.

“I have a proposition for you, Katya. Come to Hawaii with me. Take over where Galya left off, without the reporting to the FSB, of course.”

I’m dead. He knows everything
. Her legs shook and she locked her knees. “The FSB?”

“Did you come here looking for me?”

Maybe not everything.
She shook her head. “No.”

“Is that the truth?”

“I didn’t know you were in Miami. I thought I was escaping bad memories not diving into them.”

He squeezed her harder and Katya gasped.

“How did you know I was your sister’s lover?”

“I recognized you on the boat. You were with her at the Conservatory concert. I spoke to her in the line for the restroom. She told me you were her boyfriend, and you were in love.”

“Hmm. You look a little like her, at least I think so now I know you’re sisters. So what about Hawaii?” He stroked her hip and she jerked away.

“You didn’t even come to her funeral.”

“I didn’t think your father would welcome me.”

“If you’d really loved her you’d have come.” Her father would have probably killed him with his bare hands if he’d known the truth.

“What was all that shit about your uncle owing me money?”

“It was what he told me.”

Petrenko let her go and looked at her carefully. Maybe deciding whether to believe her, whether to kill her. She was desperate to swallow and forced herself not to.

“You already know what happens to people who lie to me, Katya. How would you like to pay a repeat visit to Max?”

Her stomach roiled.

“He suggested another night with you would be recompense for the trauma he went through at the thought of a recording being made.”

Fury rampaged over her fear. “How about
my
trauma? Why castrate the men who raped me and yet offer me to someone just like them?”

“I assume Aleksei told you it was all my fault.” He sighed. “It’s true. I was in his bad books for arranging that.” He laughed. “I knew Max would like you better. And his call to me confirmed it. He thought he’d asked for you, but I’d always intended you’d be my gift. I also knew Aleksei would get over it. If not, there are plenty more where you came from.”

“You bastard,” she whispered.

“But of course I am. What did you expect?”

Katya wanted to ask him outright about Galya and her family, but she was too scared. The words froze in her throat. She’d stepped up to the line and couldn’t go over it. Her last card played, the moment gone.

Petrenko moved back. The valet opened the door of his car and Petrenko nodded to Aleksei and got in. Katya staggered slightly and Aleksei caught hold of her.

He stayed silent as Park drove them back to Coral Gables and she wondered how much he’d heard. All of it probably. She pressed her face to the window and stared out at the city. The car’s air conditioning was set too high and she shivered, at least that’s what she blamed. Things were out of her control now. Aleksei was angry and he wasn’t stupid. He’d want explanations.

Back at the house, he pulled her into the living room and flung her down onto the couch, an explosive look in his eyes. When she didn’t speak, he let loose a torrent of Russian. “What the fuck were you talking about? How is Viktor connected to you? Did you use me to get to him? Just when I think we have something you pull out the rug again.”

“I didn’t know you knew him,” she yelled, fury loosening her throat. “I didn’t seek you out, Aleksei.
You
found me at the restaurant.
You
pursued
me
. I came to this country to work at the university. That’s all.”
Almost.

“You asked me if I knew him. You asked Anna and Natasha. You lied about your uncle owing money to Viktor.”

“I did not. I’ve never lied to you. You’re the one who’s lied.”

He grabbed hold of her hand, yanked her up and squeezed her fingers until she cried out in pain and fear. He looked even more upset that he’d hurt her and relaxed his grip. “Christ, you drive me insane.”

“How could I know the man my uncle owed money to was the same man my sister had dated in Moscow? I only realized when I saw him on the boat.”

He let her go and her knees gave way. She collapsed against the couch, cradling her fingers, trying not to cry.

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I didn’t know it made any difference.”

“Viktor doesn’t trust you and neither do I.”

She looked up at him and scowled. “Do you think I give a fuck? Do you think I trust you? I haven’t asked for any of this. Have I begged to stay with you? Climbed into bed with you at every opportunity? Told you how wonderful you are? I could have done all that, lied to you, taken your jewelry but I haven’t. I thought maybe we could have something, that you might care about me, but I’m just another whore to you. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

He stared at her and she brushed an errant tear from her cheek. She was a fool to think she could ever put anything right.

“I wish I’d been better friends with my sister. I had no idea she worked for the FSB. I wish she’d never met Viktor Petrenko. I wish I’d never got on the plane in Moscow. If I still had my plane ticket I’d go home.”

Katya threw herself face down onto the couch and burst into tears. Real tears, a combination of anger, frustration and fear.

Aleksei pulled her into his arms. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. Oh Christ, I don’t know where I am with you. One moment I think I—oh fuck it.” He stroked her back. “I
do
care about you.”

“Petrenko said he’d send me back to Hastings.”

He pressed his face into her hair. “That would never happen.” He sighed. “It can’t happen. Hastings is dead.”

She sat up and looked at him. “What?”

“He shot himself.”

“W-why?”

“My guess is Viktor overplayed his hand.”

“I don’t understand.”

He held her hands. “Once Hastings knew there was a recording, Viktor had to decide whether to begin the blackmail a few months or years earlier than planned. Hastings promised to support the Cambrian development and Viktor made you the bastard’s reward. But Hastings’s cooperation over that was nothing. Once he knew about the tape, he guessed what would happen. A request from Viktor he might not want to say yes to, but the tape would persuade him otherwise. A threat to speak to his wife or daughters would have finished him. I suppose he couldn’t take that sort of pressure.”

Katya’s mind raced. Had Hastings really killed himself? Or had he threatened to expose Petrenko if he attempted blackmail and Petrenko had him killed? “So is this the end of it?”

“Hastings might have thought so but probably not. He has a reputation that can still be destroyed. His family might pay to keep Viktor at bay.”

“I thought it was you who wanted the Cambrian development to go ahead.”

“I did, I have money in it, but Viktor’s interest is far greater than mine.”

“I thought it was you who had those men tortured and killed.”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t deny I wanted them to suffer, but I didn’t have anything to do with their deaths. Just like I wanted to kill Max Hastings for what he did to you, but I didn’t shoot him.”

Katya groaned. “You should put me on a plane home, Aleksei. You must have noticed every man who comes in contact with me ends up dead.”

He smiled. There was something tender in the way he touched her now. “I’ll look after you.”

“Against Petrenko?”

“It won’t come to that. Just never lie to me.”

Ethan sat on his deck looking out at the ocean. He’d come to Sanibel the previous night because he couldn’t stand being in Miami any longer. He’d driven too fast but got there within two hours, which meant he was officially near enough to the office if anyone called. But being on the island hadn’t improved his mood.

He’d made a mess of things. When this was over, after months reassuring and using Katya, assuming she survived—she’d be given a new name, maybe a new face and shuffled into some crummy apartment in a godforsaken town in the back end of nowhere.

What could he do about it?

If he let someone else handle her, would it make any difference?
Probably not.

To the way he felt?
Definitely not.

Should he let someone else take over?
Yes.

Did he want to?
Absolutely not.

Shit.
He wanted to see her again, touch her again and he couldn’t. He had to reestablish their relationship on a professional basis. She was an informant and he was her contact. That was all.

Easier to believe that when she wasn’t sitting next to him.

* * * * *

When Katya awoke she was alone in bed. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Talk to the FBI or keep quiet? How long would it take to give Ethan the information he needed? She’d be lucky to survive much longer than a couple of weeks. Petrenko wanted her dead. Aleksei was waiting for her to make a mistake. How much did Ethan need to know? Would it ever be enough? What choice was there? She wasn’t able to kill Petrenko. Ethan could put him in jail. What would happen to Aleksei?

She pulled on a white cotton robe and went downstairs. Aleksei was in his robe at his desk. She moved behind him, slid her hands over his shoulders, rested her chin on his head and read the screen. A spreadsheet.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Making it seem as though they’ve bought more than they have.”

“And you make up the difference with cash from elsewhere?”

He didn’t answer.

“That can’t be legal.”

He laughed.

“What would happen if someone stole your computer?” she asked.

“No one can get at my files except me, but if I was in danger of having my data stolen, a duress code would erase everything.”

“I wish I could erase everything,” she whispered.

“Even me?” he asked.

“Everything but you.”

He tipped his head back and she kissed him. “Would you like a drink?”

“Tea please.”

When she came back, he pulled her onto his knee. “If I gave you a suitcase full of cash, what would you do with it?”

“How much cash?”

“A million dollars.”

“I’d buy a house, a car and go somewhere exciting on holiday.”

“You wouldn’t give some to charity, send disabled children to Disneyland?”

She looked at him carefully, unsure if he was serious. “I can’t imagine having that much money.”

“It’s not as easy as you might think to use cash. You have to find sales staff who really need to make the deal because large cash purchases set off alarm bells.”

“You mean if I offered dollars, they wouldn’t take them?” she asked in surprise.

“They might, but they could report you to the authorities and if you were trying to launder money for me, I wouldn’t be too happy if you spent it on yourself.”

“So I should open a bank account.”

“Cash deposits of more than ten thousand dollars are investigated. Even smaller cash deposits can activate checking procedures.”

“Open lots of accounts with smaller amounts.”

“You’d run out of banks and it gets complicated.”

Katya thought for a moment. “Same banks, false identities?”

“They’ve thought of that. Financial institutions have a ‘know your customer rule’. They want to see you in person with photo ID.”

“Use foreign banks.”

“They have security checks too.”

“There must be some places that don’t care who you are. Moscow for example. We keep reading seventy percent of Moscow banks are run by the
Mafiya
.”

Aleksei played with her hair. “Including the bank where your father worked?”

“Absolutely not.” Katya paused. “Probably not.”

Aleksei kissed her shoulder. “Moscow is an important money laundering center but the smaller and more remote the bank, the less likely it is to have an army of investigators checking new accounts. But if you manage to get large sums of cash into a bank, you still need a way to get it back to your bank or your client’s bank.”

“If you move the money back directly, they could catch you?”

“Yes, so it’s shifted from one bank to another, one country to another, preferably through countries without disclosure laws.”

“It seems weird it’s all about disguising cash.” She frowned. “If you ordered a violin from Moscow worth half a million and the violin was actually only worth five hundred dollars but it came with an invoice for the higher amount, you could move your money to Moscow. Or the other way around.”

Aleksei smiled. “Clever girl.”

“Doesn’t anyone notice?”

“It depends. Invoices and orders must tally otherwise you’re asking for an investigation. Plus the prices should be sensible. And there’s always the chance the container will be searched or if it’s going into Russia or someplace similar, opened and the contents stolen.”

“I suppose you can pay to ensure that doesn’t happen or maybe you want it to and collect on the insurance?”

He shrugged. “Either is possible.”

“So it’s undervaluing and overvaluing imports and exports.”

“In a nutshell. Another way of hiding cash.”

“Money made by drug dealers.”

“Not all, but some.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“It’s made me rich.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He smiled. “Yes, it bothers me, but not enough to stop.”

“How else do you hide cash?” she asked. “By pretending a business made more money than it actually did? Like a travel agency?”

“Katya—you weren’t supposed to be listening.”

“It’s hard not to when I have ears.”

“How beautiful they are.” Aleksei nipped her left ear and she yelped.

“What do you do once you’ve laundered the money?”

“Invest in legitimate businesses. I pay my taxes. I don’t want to draw attention to myself so my credit score is excellent. I often pay in advance. The authorities are looking for bad debtors, not people like me.”

“Unlike Al Capone who got nailed by the IRS.”

“Absolutely.”

Katya smiled. “Hey, how about you give me a million dollars and see how I do?”

“I don’t think so. Anyway I don’t handle that side now. I’ve removed myself from as much as I can.” He unfastened the belt of her robe and pushed it off her shoulders. “Enough on money laundering. I don’t need you as a competitor. You’re too intelligent.”

She turned so she sat facing him. “How much do you keep?”

“Twenty-five percent.”

“Are you that good?” She groaned as he sucked her nipple.

“Expert.”

“You definitely are at some things.”

She slipped a hand inside his robe and down to his cock. One caress and he sucked in a breath.

“So are you,” he whispered.

She brought her other hand to his face and ran her fingers over his cheeks. His gulp and following smile brought the same from her. Could she love him? He could arouse her with a single touch. But wasn’t that just lust? Wasn’t love something deeper? A willingness to put yourself in harm’s way for another person? And if you knew the world was going to end, wanting to spend your last moments in that person’s arms?

“Katya,” he whispered and brought his mouth to hers.

She melted against him. She squeezed his cock as they kissed and Aleksei circled his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand away.

“Keep doing that and I’ll come.”

“I thought that was the idea.”

He smiled and licked the edge of her mouth. How could she tell if she loved him? How could she believe him if he said he loved her?
But I want to.
He sucked in a breath as she slid off his lap and onto the floor. His fingers threaded her hair as she wrapped her lips and hand around his cock. When she laved the crest with her tongue, his thighs tensed and his breathing faltered. He tasted sweet and sour at the same time, the salty tang bursting on her lips as she licked and sucked.

“Keep doing
that
and I’ll come,” he said.

Katya lifted her head and laughed.

“I have a better idea.” Aleksei pulled her down onto the floor and positioned her hips so his face was between her legs. She leaned forward to take his cock in her mouth and groaned around him when his tongue swept over her clit. It was hard to concentrate on what she was doing to him when he was pulling her closer and closer to release. She pumped his shaft, dipped her tongue into the slit at the head, and Aleksei gasped against her folds. She raised her head and laughed.

He lifted her by the hips. “What’s funny? And be careful what you say.”

“We are. I keep putting you off and you do the same to me.”

“Let me love you first then.”

An ache set up in her heart even though what he’d said hadn’t been what she’d wanted it to mean. Aleksei swiveled around and knelt between her legs. He stared into her eyes, spread his palms over her breasts, lowered his mouth to her belly and licked his way down.

The sensation of his hair brushing against her thighs, his fingers twisting her nipples, his hot, wet tongue sliding over her clit started fireworks inside her. She stopped breathing as she raced toward release. Her fingers threaded in his hair, she cried out as starbursts of color exploded behind her eyes.

Then he was on her and in her, taking her with long, deep strokes that somehow set her back on the climb.

“Katya, Katya, Katya.” He repeated her name over and over again, staring in her eyes, driving into her body.

They came together. She felt the warm flood of his come as Aleksei dropped down onto her.

Oh God, no condom.
It worried her that she didn’t care.

* * * * *

When Katya walked into Alice’s office in the music department, she found Ethan waiting. She still felt a sense of betrayal when she looked at him. The difference between being a good man and a bad was not clear cut.

“We need to talk,” he said. “Alice has found us a place.”

He led her to a windowless storeroom, the walls lined with boxes of sheet music and no chairs.

“Guess we’ll have to sit on the floor,” he said.

She dropped down and pulled her legs up to her chest. Ethan sat opposite, his legs straight out but away from hers. Even now, Katya didn’t know whether to say yes or no. She wanted Petrenko punished but was the price too high? Aleksei might be a crook but she believed he cared for her. She could no longer deny that she cared for him.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Ethan whispered. “I was worried.”

His body didn’t say that and she knew better than to trust his words.

“Worried I won’t agree to be
stukatch
?”

“A snitch.”

“So you speak Russian?”
Another lie. I was so stupid.

He winced. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Too late.”

“I want to help you, Katya, but I don’t know how. Tell me what you want to do.”

What she wanted was impossible. To turn the clock back to before her sister met Petrenko.

“Why did you really come to the States?”

You ask me that after I told you everything?
“A job. Revenge. To forget. Maybe to find a husband. Perhaps to fuck a banker or FBI agent. Take your pick. Make up what you want to hear. It doesn’t matter.” Revenge rolled away like a fading dream. Thoughts of a future with Aleksei evaporated.

“Katya.”

She raised her head to look at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

How she hated that word. It meant nothing. So many people telling her they were sorry. Sorry Galya was dead. Sorry about her family. Aleksei sorry about what Hastings had done. Now Ethan sorry too.

“What are you sorry for? That I found out you lied? That you let me make a fool of myself…” She couldn’t speak for a moment and took a deep breath. “I came to Florida because I learned Petrenko was here. I figured if I got to know the wrong sort of Russians, I’d find him. And that’s what happened. Aleksei turned out to be exactly the wrong sort of Russian I was looking for and he knew Petrenko. Lucky or unlucky for me?”

“Tell me about him.”

“Aleksei? He spent the weekend fucking me and laundering money. I don’t know which gave him more pleasure.”