Vries stared at him. Apparently he intended to maintain the fiction of their relationship. Even so it was annoying that he would insist on buying clothes for her when they both knew he didn’t even want her to come with him.
Reluctant to blow their cover story Vries nodded her assent. “Thank you, I’ll try not to bankrupt you,” she said with a smirk.
“Good luck with that,” he said with a laugh. “We might as well do some shopping as it will take a day or so to get your visa.”
“Only a day or so?” Vries raised a brow.
“My Lyov how things have changed. I remember when you were able to do such things in hours,” Pasha said.
“Yes, I am now, unfortunately, on the wrong side of the government.”
“You don’t have to be,” Pasha said with a pointed look.
“For the sake of my country, yes, I do,” he said in a tone which brooked no argument, but that didn’t seem to affect his ex-wife.
Pasha rolled her eyes and made a dramatic gesture. “That is ridiculous…”
Leo cut her off with a sharp spate of Russian, which Pasha responded to in kind. They went back and forth for a long time. Vries’s Russian was gradually improving, but she could not even hope to follow when they spoke so quickly. Finally Leo said something that based on his facial expression and gestures was his final word on the matter. Turning his back to both of them, he pressed a buzzer in the sideboard to ring for the housekeeper. When she arrived he requested a Russian breakfast. Pasha said nothing more and that was the end of the discussion.
Chapter Nine
The steaming hot water pounded down on her body, bringing relief to the soreness from her hour-long run. Pasha had departed shortly after breakfast and Leo returned to his study to take care of some undisclosed business. Vries had taken advantage of his fully equipped gym and taken a run on his treadmill. Now she was exhausted. The spicy citrus notes of her body wash filled the large marble bathroom bringing her to greater alertness. With her hair secured in braids she stood in the steamy water and let it soothe away the stress of the past few days. Leo hadn’t shown even the slightest indicator of relenting in his belief that she’d basically whored herself for a job. It was so frustrating, though looking at it from his point of view she could almost understand, which was the only reason she didn’t simply waterboard him until he saw the light.
In his position and with background it made sense; Pasha had married him for money. According to him most of the women he’d been with had probably done the same, though she found that hard to believe and couldn’t imagine a less arduous whoring assignment. Still, he really should have known her better. For one thing she had her own money, and for another it was hardly in her character. When Lelia suggested concealing her intent, she did so not knowing they would start sleeping together. She shook her head, admitting at least to herself that she’d known from the beginning she would sleep with Leo and she should’ve come clean with him from the beginning. Now it was too late. She slammed a hand against the slick marble tile that made up the shower enclosure. No way in hell was it too late. Her feelings for him were still developing, but she had no intention of letting him go. After going around and around with her thoughts for a while longer, she deliberately shut that loop down, determined to enjoy her shower.
Then just like that her solitude was shattered. A foreign noise, almost imperceptible above the roar of the falling water alerted her to someone’s presence. Her heart leapt with hope as for a moment she thought it might be Leo, but that quickly came to an end as the ensuing silence lasted longer than it would have if it had been him. It was his house; he wouldn’t be creeping around. Without pausing for a towel or to shut off the water Vries grabbed the knife she’d taken into the shower with her and stepped from under the water and onto the teak mat set outside the shower. Deringer stood leaning casually against the double vanity at the other side of the room doing a slow clap.
“Impressive,” he said.
Okay, this was getting ridiculous. “Jesus, Dare, stop doing this shit, okay? The last guy to sneak up on me is swimming with the fishes, and I’m in just the right mood to send you after him.”
A deep frown marred the perfect lines of his face. “What’s wrong with you, did you miss your nap? And you do know you’re not supposed to kill people just for the hell of it, right?”
“Hmmm, I must have played hooky when they covered that in training. I think I’ve been remarkably restrained, considering. Right now I’d probably shoot somebody for snoring too loud. What’s the point of having a license to kill, if I have to overlook fools who show up unannounced in my bathroom? What are you doing here, anyway?”
She grit her teeth as he deliberately misunderstood her question.
“In Milan? I seem to recall a certain goddess requesting my presence.”
Vries closed her eyes searching for nonexistent patience. “No. In this house.”
“That’s what I’m here to find out. The way you’ve been blowing up my phone I got the impression you wanted to talk to me.”
“I did…do want to talk to you—”
“Either you’re freezing or you’re really happy to see me,” he said dryly gesturing toward her nipples, which were almost painfully erect from the cold.
Up to that point she hadn’t even noticed her nudity. She’d spent most of her life backstage at fashion shows wearing little more than heels and hot curlers, but after his snide comment about her PETA shoot she knew Leo would be beyond pissed to find her naked with another man. Gritting her teeth in irritation she grabbed her robe and wrapped it firmly around herself then ripped her shower cap off her head.
“Where the hell have you been?” she asked, checking in the floor length mirror to ensure her hair was still neatly secured. It loved the moisture from the steamy shower, but had a tendency to free itself from any attempts to restrain it.
“I told you, in Milan. Maintaining security for the Big Russian like you asked,” he said slowly as though talking to an idiot.
“Where were you last night?”
“Following the dudes who tried to use the Big Russian as target practice.”
“Did you…” she began.
“No, I was on a bike too, but they still managed to shake me in traffic.”
“Goddamnit!”
“Do we really need to capture them? It’s not like interrogating them would do us any good. Besides we know who’s behind all this, don’t we?”
“Of course we do. I’m not interested in interrogating them. I’m thinking that maybe if we could manage them…”
“They’d just send more,” he said.
“Yes, I know, but at least it would slow them down,” she said.
He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure old boy’s got an endless supply of killers to do his bidding.”
She nodded, knowing he was right, but not having another plan at the moment. She returned to her first question. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you…”
“Not in Milan. Here in this house. Leo will lose his shit if he sees you.”
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” he said with a raised brow and half-smile.
“No, not really.” Vries didn’t know how “it” was. Her only comfort was she didn’t think Leo did either. Certainly the man had been sending mixed signals like a fried motherboard, still his feelings toward Deringer were very clear. And finding him in the bathroom with her would not go over well in the least. “How did you get in here? His security…”
“Did you forget you asked me to work on that?”
“Of course I didn’t forget, but won’t they be able to see that you’re here?”
“ I always leave a backdoor. An artist must have access to his masterpiece.”
Vries rolled her eyes. The man was far too impressed with himself, but she had to admit his skill with electronics was uncanny. “We’re going to St. Petersburg,” she said.
“Yeah, so I heard.”
Vries frowned
. She knew he had the house bugged. Hell, for all she knew he probably had her bugged, but she hadn’t thought about what that meant in terms of him hearing her making love with Leo. She should be able to rely on his professionalism to ensure he hadn’t listened during those intimate moments, but Deringer had been known to ignore guidelines. He’d also been known to bug people, places and things just for the hell of it. She took a deep breath prepared to ask him, but then changed her mind. In all honesty she didn’t want to know.
“Will you be able to come, too?” she asked instead.
He stroked his thumb over the small goatee he favored. “You know I fucking hate cold weather.”
“You’re from Boston for God’s sake.”
“A city I only return to when absolutely forced to do so.”
“Are you coming?”
He sighed heavily. “You know I am. You need all the help you can get, that Russian is crazier than all fuck.”
Then she knew at the very least he’d heard their fight. “He has every right to distrust me.”
“Yeah, nothing pisses me off like a gorgeous supermodel covering my six.”
“It’s not like that…Never mind. How much security can you put into his house in St. Petersburg?”
“Not enough. I’ve been trying to get my hands on the plans, but he puts forth a lot more effort there than he does here. Everything is locked down tight.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Provided the security he has there is up to speed, then yes, it is a good thing, but I can’t check it out until I get there. Are you okay?”
Vries stared at him.
“That argument was harsh. He was damned hard on you.”
“I’m fine, Dare. You know I’m a tough girl.”
“No, you’re not. You just play like you are.”
“Don’t tell anybody.”
“All your secrets are safe with me,” he said.
“And why does that thought terrify me?”
Chapter Ten
St. Petersburg looked like a city built by fairies. Its wide streets and beautiful Baroque and Neoclassical buildings made the city look as though it were in suspended animation—untouched by time. It was intended to be a showpiece, Russia’s most European city, and it certainly lived up to that billing. While other cities huddled in filthy, sloppy misery in winter, St. Petersburg glittered and sparkled in its covering of ice and snow. So beautiful Vries simply couldn’t get enough of its loveliness. But damnit, it was cold. Despite her best efforts, her down puffer coat simply wasn’t enough, and she found herself more often than not swathed from head to toe in Russian mink. They’d been in the city for nearly a week. Leo seemed eager to show it to her and they spent most days studying the city’s magnificent architecture. Yet the more intimate aspects of their relationship were icier than the frozen Neva, which meandered through the city.
She shivered even under her furs, but she was eager to finally tour the Church of Our Savior on Spilled Blood. The church was situated on a canal, which lowered the surrounding temperature by several degrees. Like all the water in this city known as “Venice of the North,” the canal was frozen, its icy surface glistening under a watery sun. She was all but dazzled by the medieval Russian architecture and the thousands of mosaics that covered every flat surface, still she watched the other tourists closely. She stayed within touching distance of Leo. Despite her many arguments, he refused to have any other security.
The crowd seemed pretty typical; mostly foreigners, Americans and Asians of various extractions. Quite a few Arabs in their distinctive dress. Only one person drew Vries’s attention. No matter how the crowd ebbed and flowed he remained behind them. This alone was enough to make Vries antsy; having a stranger on her six was no minor matter for someone in her line of work. She deliberately paused, holding Leo’s forearm while pretending to study a mosaic more closely. If she was wrong and the man was just a tourist he would go past them and continue on his way. Instead he stopped as well. From the corner of her eye she studied him, trying to assess the danger he presented. He was dressed in a nondescript navy blue suit. His dark hair was closely cropped in a military style and he had a dark gray wool coat slung over one arm. He moved with a body awareness that spoke of combat or martial arts training. Still, none of those features justified the way he sent her senses into high alert. The umbrella in his hand did. It wasn’t raining. Having employed the same strategy herself, Vries knew immediately this was another attempt on Leo’s life.
Shoving Leo to the side she took a position immediately to the rear of him. She grabbed the umbrella and with a sharp snap of her wrists yanked it forward. The man was caught off-guard and his forward momentum and the way she wrenched the umbrella out of his hands pulled him stumbling past her. Using the umbrella like a staff she slammed it into the back of the man’s head sending him crashing to the floor. After checking the mechanism to ensure it was a type she was familiar with, she placed the metal end of the umbrella against the back of the man’s neck and pushed the lever in the handle. She had no hope that this would stop the attacks, but leaving him alive was out of the question. She couldn’t search him—the tour group was bound to return at any moment and she certainly couldn’t take him into custody without blowing her cover.
Fortunately the tour guide had taken the group well past them, and none of them witnessed the brief scuffle, but now Vries had a problem; the dead body on the floor was sure to draw attention.
Leo, who had stumbled a bit when she shoved him, but quickly recovered, stared down at the man, then looked at Vries. Very little fazed the man, but right now his face was contorted with strong emotion. His color was high on his high cheekbones and his lips, usually so full and passionate were tight and colorless. She wasn’t sure if it was anger or something else, but she suspected he was enraged.
“Ricin,” she said succinctly.
Leo frowned. “Not plutonium?” Good Lord was he still trying to exonerate Putilin?
“Plausible deniability,” she said with a brisk nod, her mind preoccupied with the logistics of getting rid of the man’s body. Another concern rose to the fore; she hadn’t seen any type of cameras inside the church, but that didn’t necessarily mean they weren’t there. If there were some she wasn’t sure what they’d show. She’d grabbed the umbrella before the man could strike making an argument of self-defense futile. Of course, under ideal circumstances Lelia would have her extracted from the country before she had to deal with the vagaries of the Russian criminal justice system.
Leo moved close to her side taking her hand in his. She was grateful because suddenly her hands were freezing. She knew it was a side effect of the sudden drop in adrenaline levels her body was experiencing, still she felt comforted by his concern.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly after giving her a gentle kiss to the side of her head.
Vries nodded. He studied her face closely. Whatever he saw there must have reassured him because he went on to more pressing matters.
“That was intended for me, I presume,” he said. She nodded again. “And now we need to get rid of him?” She sighed, grateful that he was so quick.
“Scream.”
“What?” she said taken aback by the notion. It went against all her training and experience to draw attention to herself in such a situation.
“Scream. And be quick about it, the guide will be back in a moment to see what happened to us.”
Vries screamed. The volume was impressive but given her current stress level she was amazed the mosaics didn’t fall off the wall from the sound alone.
The guide and several security guards came running. Leo began speaking to them in a spate of Russian, punctuated by dramatic hand gestures. She just stood beside him and tried to look as terrified as possible. She even managed to work up some tears. The whole scenario was antithetical to her nature; she was usually the one in charge, not standing aside like a helpless maiden. Though nothing on earth could compel her to admit it ou
t loud, she had to acknowledge to herself at least that she liked having someone by her side who could take charge if need be. She wasn’t even sure what the cover story was, but Leo seemed satisfied with what she was doing so she simply continued. Then he pulled her closer to his side and following his cues, she turned her face into his heavy coat as though distraught. The cashmere was soft and reassuring against her skin and imbued with his delicious aroma, which never failed to arouse her.
“There, there malyshka. The police will take care of the matter.”
Vries choked on a laugh, fortunately it sounded like a sob even to her ears. He’d just called her “little one” in Russian. No one had called her “little” since puberty. Leo spoke to the men for a few more minutes, then gave one of them his business card. And just like that they were free to go. Leo didn’t remove his arm from around her waist so she thought it prudent to continue clinging to his side. At their car, Pushka opened the door and Leo handed her into the car and followed her inside without another word. He didn’t speak all the way back to his home, which was unusual for him. Especially in light of the fact that someone had just tried to kill him and she’d just killed a man.
Getting back to the house didn’t take long and Leo left her almost immediately. Vries stood in the lavish foyer for a moment, pondering his rude departure. She was about to remove her coat to give it to the waiting maid, then she recalled that Leo was still wearing his. A fact that told her where he’d gone. Leaving the furs on she climbed the stairs to the upper floor of the house and then up the ladder to the roof. Leo went up there nearly every day. And that’s where she found him. Still in his heavy coat, though he had doffed his hat, he stood staring off into the distance at the city he loved. The slight breeze lifted the strands of his hair, but he didn’t seem to feel it.
The Lion in Russia Page 9