The Lion in Russia

by Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

  “About as closely as anyone with a multi-million dollar contract with a Russian design house.”

  “Azhikelyamov has been on a campaign for several years now to reform the Russian economy and government.”

  “Campaign?” Vries said as she took a sip of the bracing coffee, hoping it would wake her up, though she feared she’d have to drink the brew by the liter to make a dent in her current exhaustion.

  “Yes, he’s been traveling around the country, around the world really, making speeches and presentations. He really wants to change things.”

  “Doesn’t everybody?”

  “Yes, but everybody isn’t the richest man in the country. He’s also very popular. People tend to listen to him, and Putilin is scared to death that he plans to be president,” Lelia said.

  Vries took another sip of coffee as the ramifications sank in. “For the love of God. Surely Leo is not that stupid. What on earth is he thinking?”

  “I guess he has a problem with corruption and the mafia running his country.”

  “Yeah, and so do a few hundred other men. Dead men,” Vries said with emphasis.

  “Anyway, we need someone who can guard him without his knowledge.”

  “What? How am I supposed to pull that off?”

  “You’re quite skilled at that type of thing Vries, and you already know the man,” Lelia said.

  “What type of thing? Prostitution? You expect me to sleep with him—” Vries said.

  “Of course not! How could you even suggest it? You know I—”

  “You’re right Lelia, I’m sorry.”

  “No. I mean you can probably flirt with him a bit. Draw the situation out. Go on some dates with him. It won’t be for long. The trial is due to begin in a few weeks. Though it might be postponed,” Lelia said.

  Vries took another long sip of coffee. “So, you want me to protect this man from both the Russian president and mob and to do that without him somehow figuring it out.”

  Lelia steepled her hands, her dark gaze never leaving Vries’s face. “That’s pretty much it, in what do you Americans say? In a nutshell.”

  Vries lay her back on the chair. “Sure. Should be a piece of cake.”

  Chapter Two

  Vries took a delicate sip of her espresso, though she really wanted to chug it like a sorority girl at a kegger. Her sleep deprivation was now chronic. The strong coffee caressed her tongue with the intimacy of a longtime lover. It was so good to be back home in Milan. She looked around Piazzo del Duomo, where she was seated at a café with her tiny cup. For once the place was not crowded, which given the early hour was not surprising. The spires of the cathedral pierced the early morning haze and she looked up enjoying the atmosphere in the huge square. She looked at her sleek gold watch again, hardly believing that she was up and about at eight in the morning. She’d been in Milan for nearly twenty years now. Despite her Georgia roots no other place felt like home, and she’d had no trouble adjusting to the hours Italians kept. This was obscenely early. It was nice though to have the caffè to herself. Within another hour the place would be swarming with tourists. Much as she loved Milan she usually avoided the tourist attractions as much as possible. Suddenly a frisson of awareness made the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. She raised her cup again, as she casually scoped out her location. She quickly dismissed the few tourists in the vicinity, but she didn’t see anyone obviously staring at her, which in itself was almost unheard of in Milan. Typically the fairly aggressive Italian men would at least look. Though they were far less overt than when she first came to the city, nothing would ever stop them from looking. Thank God.

  She’d deliberately chosen this particular caffè, as she did pretty much any place she went, for ease of defense. There was a brick wall at her back, and nearly a 360-degree unobstructed view of the surrounding area. She rose to her feet with a nonchalance she definitely didn’t feel and moved until her back was against the brick exterior wall of the building. She continued to look around, occasionally glancing at her watch as though impatient for the arrival of a friend. Her right hand automatically went to the handgun she kept in her oversized handbag.

  The dry chuckle from her right was immediately familiar and she took a deep breath as a tall dreadlocked man took a seat at her table. He steepled his hands then looked at her over them.

  “Well, I do believe you’ve still got it, girl.”

  “Damn you Deringer, why the hell did you sneak up on me like that? The last idiot who did that left a widow with two kids,” Vries said as she slipped back into her chair.

  Deringer shrugged. “I should think that is obvious. I wanted to see if you still had it. After all, you’ve called me to your lovely city. And as much as you love me, I doubt you’d call me in unless you needed help. That being the case, I needed to know how good you are. After all, you’ve been gone from the Department for a while now. You might have gone soft.”

  Vries sighed. She’d done the same thing herself on the rare occasions when she’d been required to work with another operative. She watched as Deringer ordered a sparkling water from the hovering waitress.

  “Fair enough. So how good am I?”

  “I suspect you could still slide a knife between a man’s ribs so smoothly you’d be off to have a mani/pedi before he even knew he was dead.”

  Vries smiled, then laughed out loud. Deringer rarely said much, but when he did it was often quite hilarious. “Yeah, you’re right. I do need your help.”

  Deringer took the glass of water from the waitress, then gave her his full attention.

  “It’s Leo Azhikelyamov,” she said.

  Deringer pursed his lips, then gave a slow, soft whistle. “Good luck managing that big motherfucker. Don’t you work for his wife? I should think that would be awkward to say the least.”

  “Ex-wife,” she said automatically. “I’m not planning to manage him,” she said with a smirk at Deringer’s use of the Department’s euphemism for killing.

  “Then what have you got in mind? Presumably you don’t need my help to sleep with him which is what he has in mind,” he said.

  Vries gave an exasperated huff. Did everybody on the planet know her business? “I need to protect him.”

  “Why? Last time I saw the dude he had a big enough entourage to be a rapper.”

  Vries gave him a pointed look.

  “Okay, so yeah, they’re more likely to shoot each other than apprehend an assassin. What do you need me to do?”

  Despite her exhaustion Vries began reciting the particulars of the case in rapid-fire fashion. Researching Azhikelyamov’s particulars had been easy. Too easy. As she went over the dimensions of his various houses, she watched as Deringer’s brows slowly rose in astonishment. “His electronic security is state-of-the-art. You know what that means.”

  “Yeah, it’s absolute crap. You were able to get this information?” he said.

  “It was easy.”

  “Shit.”

  “That’s what I thought too,” she said.

  “If you could get it, we’re fucked,” he said after taking a long drag from his glass of water.

  “Hey, my hacking skills aren’t that bad,” Vries said.

  “You’re not half-bad, but a man of his stature should be inaccessible to any but the absolute best.”

  “You mean, you?”

  “Of course, I mean me,” he said with a smirk.

  Vries sighed again, even though she knew Deringer was right, it was still frustrating. “I need you to provide him with top-notch electronic security, here at his house in Milan and in Moscow. And Deringer,” she broke off, really not wanting to tell him this.

  “Yes?”

  “He can’t know about it.”

  Deringer opened him mouth as though to speak. Then closed it. After a brief hesitation he opened and shut it again, then pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “You expect me to provide electronic security to old boy without him knowing about
it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do I want to know why?”

  Vries considered that for a moment. “I’m thinking not so much.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought too. Anything else?”

  Vries felt heat rise to her face. “Well, I need you to pretend to be after me.”

  “After you?”

  “You know, like you’re macking me.”

  “Macking you?” he said, somehow managing to look totally dumbfounded despite the intelligence in the classical lines of his face.

  “Will you stop repeating everything I say? You know what I mean.”

  “Sure, I know, but for the life of me I can’t figure out why.”

  Vries began to speak but he held up a silencing hand.

  “No. No. I’m guessing you’re probably right. I really don’t want to know. You’re getting really good at this. You sure you don’t want to come back to the Department.”

  Vries gave him a pointed look. “You don’t even want to work for the Department anymore. I can’t work with people I don’t trust.”

  “I tried to tell Clay you were too young for that last assignment,” he said.

  “Young or old, they lied.”

  “They all lie. They knew you weren’t prepared to deal with the reality of what they needed you to do.”

  “Are you defending them?”

  “Of course not. Just pointing out the facts of the matter. Besides, you told me you don’t get details anymore, so that’s not an issue.”

  “I only do that because I trust Lelia. No way in hell would I do that with those people you work for,” she said.

  “I told you the Department wasn’t the right agency for you from the jump street,” he said shaking his head.

  “Yes, you did and I should’ve listened,” she sighed. “It really doesn’t matter. I like what I’m doing now. How about you? You only stuck around for Nate. Are you in or out now?”

  Deringer’s face immediately closed down. “That’s an interesting question,” he said and Vries knew he would never be more forthcoming than that.

  “Well you know whatever goes down, I’m only a phone call away, okay?”

  He nodded, but said nothing more.

  Chapter Three

  Vries looked around the crowded room. The elegant dinner party at the home of one of Milan’s top designers was officially standing room only. The room with its ornate carvings, plasterwork and other 18th century appointments lent an air of unreality to the occasion. Hundreds of men clad in evening garb should have made it difficult to find the man she was looking for, fortunately for her she knew that wouldn’t be a problem, no matter the crowd Leo always stood out. Some would say it was the light hair or just his size, but Vries knew that the man simply had presence. Not to mention he was hotter than a two-dollar pistol. She could just feel when he was in the room.

  Unfortunately for her current plans Leo was nowhere to be found. Deringer was another one who it was impossible to miss, but for an entirely different reason. Oh, he too was hotter than the hinges of hell, but Vries had never felt any type of sexual pull toward him. Apparently she was the only woman in the room who felt that way. He untangled himself from yet another encounter with an impossibly gorgeous woman. He’d been doing that all night, and she was beginning to wonder why. It just wasn’t like Dare to turn down no-strings-attached sex. She watched him approach her. A white dinner jacket was pretty much standard in this crowd, but on him it took even the most expensive label to a new level, add his unique hairstyle and he drew eyes everywhere he went. Not surprising. She’d met him when he worked undercover as a model more than a dozen years ago. She looked around the room again. Damnit, no Leo.

  She sighed as she took the glass of champagne Deringer offered. “Thanks,” she said after taking a grateful sip. She was parched.

  “Doesn’t look like your boy is coming,” Deringer said as he took up a position beside her. He stood close enough to portray the look of an ardent suitor, but not so close as to intimate a consummated affair.

  “He’ll be here. Gianni is one of his best friends. He wouldn’t miss his party.”

  “I don’t know why you couldn’t just call him up and tell him you’re ready to go to bed with him.”

  Vries rolled her eyes. “Because I’m not a Bond girl.”

  “Pity.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re so pretty. Otherwise I don’t know how you would ever get a date. That’s not how it’s done, you have to…” She broke off, surprised by the sudden grimness of his expression. Before she could question him a sudden awareness washed over her. Leo is here, her spidey senses were telling her. She moved closer to Deringer who immediately picked up on her movement and leaned in as though whispering sweet nothings in her ear.

  “He’s dead ahead at high noon, sweetheart. Looking daggers at us,” Deringer said in not quite a whisper.

  Vries followed Dare’s gaze and locked onto the glacial gray of Leo’s eyes. Deringer was right; he did look pissed. She took a deep breath as she forced herself to maintain control when deep inside she had to admit the man scared the living hell out of her. He began moving toward them with a calm deliberation that reminded of a scene from Jaws. For a fanciful moment she even thought she heard the shark’s theme music as Leo cut a swathe through the crowd with the single-mindedness of an apex predator, his gaze never leaving hers as she stared, mesmerized and captured in his thrall. She was being stalked and though she should be terrified, every nerve ending in her body tingled in anticipation. Desperately longing to know what he would do. Knowing what she wanted him to do. Even simple autonomic responses like breathing seemed unnecessary and she just stood there waiting for him to reach her side. When he took her in his arms she responded immediately to the warm embrace. His mouth took hers like a conquering warrior all soft tongue and firm lips refusing to accept or even consider anything but her complete surrender. Not that she was capable of anything else. He tasted just as she’d always imagined he would, masculine and woodsy, almost smoky though she knew he didn’t use tobacco. It was the way he smelled too, making him distinctive in a room full of men wearing expensive designer fragrances Leo smelled only like himself, and her entire being absorbed the aroma wanting to synthesize it into her own DNA.

  It wasn’t until he raised his head that she realized that a minor hush had fallen over their little corner of the room. At the moment she didn’t care. Instead she stared into his eyes, which were usually a soft gray, but right now his pupils were so dilated that his eyes were almost black, almost obscuring the lighter silver ring that encircled his pupils. Though she could breath she was still incapable of speech.

  “Good evening Vries. Surprised to see you here,” Leo said.

  It annoyed her that he could be so unaffected when it was all she could do to remain upright, and actually she probably would’ve collapsed had she not still been pressed so tightly against him. And that’s when she realized he wasn’t indifferent after all. There was a faint tremor in the arms that still encircle her waist, and she could feel his erection pressed against the vee of her legs. That might explain why he hadn’t stepped away as their embrace had certainly superseded the norm of a public greeting, even between lovers.

  Vries stepped back anyway. She would never regain coherence standing so close to him. To her relief her legs supported her and she could provide a reasonable response. “I can’t imagine why. Gianni gives the best parties in the city, and you know I never miss a good party.” She nodded toward Deringer who was staring at both of them looking very annoyed, the frown marring his aristocratic forehead. “Do you know my—uh—friend?” she asked hesitating just enough to imply there was more to the relationship. When Leo shook his head in the negative she made the introductions.

  Leo gave Deringer a narrow-eyed stare. “You weren’t seeing anyone the last time I was in town.”

  “That was over a year ago. Besides, as I said, Deringer and I are friends, nothing more.”

&
nbsp; A surprised expression passed over the planes of Deringer’s face. Vries knew it wasn’t real, but she could tell by the way he stiffened next to her that Leo believed the act.

  “If you say so,” Deringer murmured. “Then again, you told me that the two of you are just friends as well.”

  Leo made a sound that was close to a growl as a human could make. Vries pursed her lips hoping Deringer wasn’t overplaying his hand. “We are friends.”

  “It certainly didn’t look like it to me,” Deringer snarled in response. He sounded so convincing that for a moment Vries was worried. She knew he didn’t have romantic feelings toward her, but no one listening to their conversation would believe it.

  Now it was her turn to look surprised and then annoyed. Knowing Leo was watching their little drama Vries put on her best petulant act. She needed an excuse for Deringer to hang around and the role of the lovesick swain was perfect. It was quite common for a coterie of young men to gather around her and profess their undying devotion. They’d even dubbed her “The Goddess of Milan.” She didn’t think anything of it until the media picked it up, now it was a bit embarrassing. She knew Leo would assume that Deringer was a more persistent member of her entourage. Deringer’s presence would slow down any movement toward the bedroom as she could pretend to be deciding between the two men if necessary. It was a problem she’d realized shortly after receiving this assignment. She and Leo had been flirting for some time now. If they started dating she needed a reasonable excuse for not sleeping with him. Plus, she needed a cover for Deringer’s continued presence. This assignment was huge. She would definitely need back-up.

  After an awkward moment during which Leo made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere Vries took Deringer to the side to give him leave to go. Then she turned to Leo again with a smile designed to dazzle even the hardest heart. It had taken her years to master it. She was delighted to see it had its intended effect. Leo’s eyes, a shade of gray so translucent they reminded her of moonstone, widened and she watched color rise across his slash of a cheekbone. “How long are you in town?” she asked.