The Bastard's Bargain

by Katee Robert

  He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to her temple. “Ya lyublyu tebya.”

  “I know what that one means.” She grinned. “Ya lyublyu tebya, too.”

  His answering smile was worth the hour she’d spent mangling the words this morning using her phone’s translation app. Learning Russian was high on her list of things to do if they survived the coming conflict with the Eldridges, if only because she wanted to know what filthy shit he was whispering in her ear every time he was inside her. “Let’s do this.”

  “Let’s.”

  They stepped into the room and headed for the center table, where several Romanov cousins had already set up a space. Keira caught sight of Ivan and a tall, gorgeous blond who must be his Natasha, as well as a group of men who were obviously their muscle.

  On the other side of the room, the O’Malleys held court. Aiden and Charlie had the table in the corner, along with Olivia and Cillian. Keira paused to wonder if it was difficult for Olivia to be back in the home Dmitri’s father had confined her to for several months, but it was too late to worry about it now. At the table farthest from the door were Teague and his wife, Callie Sheridan. Opposite them sat Carrigan and her husband, James Halloran.

  They had all the main players in Boston’s power structure here in a single place. If Alethea Eldridge didn’t try something, she’d be an idiot.

  She leaned into Dmitri. “Are you sure everyone is safe?” They were in an interior room, so drive-bys were out of the question. The walls were reinforced, anyway, and all the windows boasted bulletproof glass—she’d asked Pavel about it a couple days ago.

  “We’ve swept the entire residence several times—two of which were today. Nothing explosive has been smuggled in before the party, and everyone coming in now is scanned on entry for weapons.”

  That didn’t cover their mystery traitor, and the tightening around his mouth conveyed his frustration with that. She squeezed his arm. They were as prepared as they could be. Part of her almost hoped that nothing would happen tonight and the only thing she’d have to worry about was one of her family members trying to haul her ass back to Boston for her own good.

  They wouldn’t get that lucky. She was sure of it. “I guess all we can do is wait, huh?”

  “Wait, and deal with our guests.” His gaze flicked around the room, the only sign that he wasn’t comfortable with not being completely in control of the situation. “In order to avoid showing favoritism, we’ll be seated at our table and let them approach.”

  Keira snorted. “I’m sure the power balance of acting the king and queen to their petitioners was purely coincidental.”

  He gave her a tight smile. “Da.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  They’d barely reached the table when Ivan and his woman met them. He looked like he wanted to sweep Dmitri into a bear hug the same way he had the first night she met him, but he restrained himself to a firm handshake. “Dima, you’re looking well. Marriage agrees with you.”

  “I should have taken your advice years ago, staryy drug.” He turned to the woman and took her hand, brushing her knuckles with a polite kiss. “Natasha, you’re looking particularly beautiful tonight.”

  She gave him an arch look and focused on Keira. “So you’re the woman who turned our Dima’s head.” Her accent was thicker than both Dmitri and Ivan’s, though he’d told her that Natasha had been in the States since birth, the same as the men. Her gaze dropped to Keira’s feet and coasted back up to the top of her head. “You’re very beautiful.” She nodded as if to herself. “You’ll join us for dinner next week before we depart for Texas.”

  Dmitri cleared his throat. “Natasha—”

  She frowned at him. “No, Dima. Do not give me these excuses about how busy you are. You are family, and you’ve married this woman, which makes her family. You will come to dinner. We will talk.” She aimed that frown at Keira. “You will wear something more appropriate than the last time my Ivan saw you.”

  Her face flamed at the memory of that dress. Keira wasn’t ashamed of it, exactly, but she’d been so furious at Dmitri, she hadn’t bothered to think about the consequences. No, that was a lie. She’d known there would be consequences. She just hadn’t cared at the time.

  She cared now.

  There was no time to come up with a reply—not that she had one—before they moved away and were replaced by Teague and Callie. Teague held himself tightly, as if doing everything in his power not to take a swing at Dmitri. “Romanov.”

  “Teague.” For once, Dmitri left all mocking out of his tone. She appreciated the effort, even if it was totally lost on her middle brother.

  He turned to Keira. “I’d congratulate the bride, but that hardly seems appropriate given the groom.” Another glare at her husband.

  Thank God for Callie. Teague’s pregnant wife slipped between Teague and Dmitri, giving him her hand the same way a queen would bestow knighthood. “Dmitri, you’re playing a dangerous game.”

  “The only kind there is.” He kissed her hand and released her immediately.

  She studied him for a long moment. “I see.”

  Keira wasn’t sure exactly what her sister-in-law meant, but Callie had always been something of an enigma. Teague was savvy when he needed to be, but his emotions got the best of him sometimes. His wife rarely had that problem—except when it came to her family. They hadn’t brought their daughter Moira tonight, and Keira didn’t blame them. She moved forward and held out her hand over Callie’s belly. “Do you mind?”

  “Of course not.” Callie took her hand and placed it against her baby bump. “Your newest nephew is being rambunctious tonight, so maybe he’ll grace you with a kick.” She lowered her voice and smiled. “Did Aiden tell you that we’re naming him Devlin?”

  The baby chose that moment to kick, and Keira’s throat closed. It took her several tries to get a word out. “That’s wonderful.”

  Callie didn’t look away from her face. “You seem happy. Perhaps a bit more comfortable in your skin.”

  “I am.” The baby kicked again, and she managed a smile even though the room swam around her. It was good and right that Teague would name his son Devlin, but that didn’t make it easier for Keira to hold it together. “Thank you for coming tonight.”

  “My father was delighted for the chance to spend some time with Moira and spoil her rotten.” Callie’s expression was soft, but there was depth to the words.

  Not all the power players had left Boston tonight.

  “He’s a fierce little thing, isn’t he? Takes after his auntie.”

  Keira looked over as her oldest sister strolled up. Carrigan wore a short, fitted dress that would have looked downright uncomfortable on anyone else, but she managed to pull it off. She swooped in and pressed a quick kiss to Keira’s cheek. “First Sloan running off with Jude MacNamara, and now you walking down the aisle with Romanov. What am I supposed to do with you two?”

  That surprised a laugh out of her. She should have known Carrigan wouldn’t respond the same way as the rest of her family—she never had. “You have no one to blame but yourself—you ran off with the enemy and made it the cool thing to do.”

  Her sister laughed and pulled her in for a hug that whooshed the air from her body. “God, I missed you. You really do look good, Keira. And you’re—dare I say it?—sober.”

  “I am.” No reason to talk about the fact that she could tell exactly how many steps stood between her and the minibar. Keira didn’t know much about addicts, other than being one, but she didn’t expect that awareness would ever go away. She felt like her body was a water dowser, but for alcohol. She didn’t miss weed all that much, but liquor? She could only hope that craving would get easier to bear as time went on.

  “Go figure. I’m going to be in New York in a couple weeks for some business. I’m stealing you for the day.” Carrigan released her and pressed both her hands to Callie’s belly. “You’re coming too, Callie. You’ve been so damn occupied with babies and business, I h
aven’t seen you in forever.”

  Callie gave a small smile, her blue eyes sparkling with humor. “I suppose I could clear my schedule.”

  Keira eyed the careful way her sister touched her sister-in-law’s stomach. “Am I sensing baby fever?” She made a show of leaning over and eyeing Carrigan’s toned body. “Are you and James going to start giving me nieces and nephews?”

  “Maybe.” Carrigan shrugged. “Maybe not. But we’re having a hell of a time practicing.”

  Homesickness hit Keira with the strength of a freight train. She hadn’t felt it in the O’Malley house, but that building wasn’t more than a physical representation of a loss she still hadn’t fully dealt with. It wasn’t home. This was. Her family.

  Before she could fully process that, Carrigan turned to face Dmitri. The happiness fell from her face. “You.”

  “You’re looking well, Carrigan.”

  What she was looking like was a woman willing to kill. James Halloran moved up and pressed his hand to the small of her back. He was all golden giant shadowing Keira’s oldest sister Carrigan. The man was attractive in a chiseled sort of way, but he looked about as comfortable as a lion surrounded by hunters, his blue gaze flicking around the room and seeming to catalog all the threats before settling on Dmitri.

  Keira tensed to move between them, but Dmitri stayed her with a slight movement of his hand. He looked into her sister’s face and simply said, “I love her.”

  Keira froze. She couldn’t believe he’d just gone and said it aloud. They might not have overt enemies in the room, but that didn’t mean they were allies. Giving up this piece of information was as good as handing Carrigan and James the ammunition they needed to hurt him the most.

  Kind of hard to doubt he loves me when he’s putting it out there in public like this.

  For her part, Carrigan looked at him for a long moment and then huffed out a laugh. “Dmitri Romanov, in love. That can’t be a wholly comfortable feeling.”

  “I’m getting used to it.” He shifted, letting his hand drop, and Keira slipped beneath his arm. Dmitri looked down at her and then back at Carrigan. “I understand better why you made the choice you did. If Keira was in danger, I wouldn’t let anything stand in my way to save her. Not an enemy, not a friend, not even breaking my word.”

  It was a threat, but Carrigan laughed a little. “Yeah, I guess you do understand.”

  “James.” Dmitri nodded at him. “Enjoy the reception.”

  “Oh, we intend to.” Carrigan took James’s hand and they walked back to their table, pausing to talk to Cillian and Olivia as they did. Charlie and Aiden lounged at the same table, their heads bowed close to each other, in deep conversation. They were all here, all except Sloan. No one was fighting. No one was posturing or yelling or threatening to kidnap her for her own good.

  Teague was naming his son Devlin.

  It was an honor, but it didn’t change the fact that Devlin should be there. He should be alive and sitting in the middle of Cillian and Aiden and laughing alongside Olivia.

  Pain flared, so strong it nearly took her to her knees. Keira gripped Dmitri’s arm tighter. She closed her eyes and let herself envision walking to the bar, taking a bottle, and retreating upstairs until she didn’t feel anything at all. She could imagine the cool glass against her palm, the bottle at her lips, the blessed numbness washing away everything.

  But that was the problem. It washed away everything. The good. The bad. The unforgettable. The numbness didn’t care that there were memories she’d carved out with Dmitri she didn’t want to lose. It wouldn’t matter that she’d finally made some kind of peace with the fact that she’d never quite fit in with her family, but that didn’t make them love her less.

  Keira opened her eyes, but the walls were still too close. Too stifling. “I need a break, Dima.”

  To his credit, he didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.” He took a step, using his body as a shield between her and the rest of the room, but his stride hitched.

  She looked past him to see Aiden on his feet and starting toward them, concern lighting his green eyes. Desperation sank its claws into her. “I can’t, Dima. I can’t talk to him right now.” It didn’t matter if her brother was only going to ask her if she was okay. She had to get out of there. Right now.

  “Go. I’ll speak to him.” He jerked his chin. “Pavel will stay with you.”

  Because she wasn’t safe. Not even in their home.

  Keira managed to nod, and then Pavel was there, shifting her away from Dmitri and walking her to the side door and out of the ballroom. She paused in the hallway, but her chest only tightened. “I need—”

  “Outside.”

  She started to say that wasn’t what she meant, but the thought of fresh air on her face had her hurrying to keep up with Pavel’s long strides. If she could just breathe, then she could think straight. They walked around the long way and out through the front door. Keira let go of Pavel the second her heels hit the sidewalk. Yes, this is what I need. She moved a few feet away from the door and leaned against the brick building. The cold snap of the air against her face helped clear her thoughts.

  It would be too much to ask that I’d be able to spend time with my family without wanting to dive into a bottle.

  It would get better. She refused to allow this goddamn addiction to get the best of her. It would become easier to see her family without the glaringly obvious missing part. Eventually, time would dull the pain of losing Devlin.

  But that day wasn’t today.

  Keira closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing slowly. She could hear Pavel shifting from foot to foot a short distance away, but she ignored him. It was cold—especially without a jacket—but she didn’t mind. She spoke without opening her eyes. “Just give me a few minutes and we’ll go back in.” Dmitri could hold Aiden off indefinitely, but he shouldn’t have to. She’d just take the time to get her barriers back in place, and then she’d walk back into that room and soldier through the rest of the night.

  “Don’t hurry on my account.”

  Keira barely had time to process the unfamiliar female voice when the icy barrel of a gun pressed against her stomach.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Dmitri kept his gaze on the door Keira had disappeared through, half listening to whatever the hell Aiden said. He finally shook his head. “Excuse me.”

  Aiden opened his mouth, seemed to reconsider, and nodded. “Go to her.”

  He didn’t need the man’s permission, but he recognized it for the olive branch it was. He and Aiden had managed to get through an entire conversation without threatening each other, even if Dmitri had been distracted through the entire thing. He nodded. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  He didn’t like Keira being out of his sight. The night had been going too well, and he didn’t trust that. The other shoe was about to drop, and Dmitri couldn’t stand the thought of Keira being caught in the crossfire.

  The hallway outside the ballroom was empty.

  He stopped short. It didn’t mean anything. Keira would have wanted more space to get her head on straight, and the hallway was hardly offering in space. He doubted she’d go upstairs, so he turned toward the front of the house and strode in that direction. As he turned the corner, he half expected to find her in the foyer.

  The foyer was empty as well.

  Dmitri pulled his phone out of his pocket. He’d wanted to clear the house completely of his men, but it wasn’t an option. He didn’t have enough people he trusted beyond a shadow of a doubt, but he called Alexei all the same.

  “Da?”

  “You’re manning the cameras.” He didn’t wait for confirmation. “Where is Keira?”

  A pause, a few clicks in the background. “She and Pavel walked out the front door five minutes ago.”

  The front door? Why the fuck had she gone outside? If she needed air, there was the rooftop patio…Dmitri cursed. He’d never even told her about it. It was October—too cold to utilize the spac
e—and it had slipped his mind. But Pavel knew about it. He should have known that was a safer option than standing on the street.

  Alarm bells pealed through Dmitri’s head. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  He raced to the front door, not caring if any of the guests saw, and wrenched it open. Pedestrians gave him wide berth without breaking stride, but he could care less about them. He looked right and then left, and Dmitri’s heart stopped cold in his chest at the sight of Keira pressed against the wall, Mae Eldridge standing too close in front of her.

  To the outside viewer, they might have been lovers having an intimate conversation. Mae had her strong arm braced on the brick wall over Keira’s shoulder, and their faces were kissably close. It was only from his angle that he was able to see the gun in Mae’s hand.

  He took a step forward, but stopped short as a hand closed over his shoulder. He looked at Pavel, one of the few men he’d trusted, and he might as well have been staring into the face of a stranger. The blond’s blue eyes were cold and distant. “That’s close enough,” Pavel ground out.

  Fuck. He’d found his traitor, and far too late for the knowledge to help. One of the few men he’d considered to be trustworthy. Not trustworthy enough.

  “Dmitri, go back inside.” Keira sounded calm and reasonable, as if asking him to run down to the corner store to grab some milk.

  Mae shook her head. “I don’t think so. You’ve got a pretty mouth, but you’re ultimately replaceable. He isn’t.” She gave him a snake’s smile, all cold eyes and tight lips. “Isn’t that right, Romanov?”

  “Let her go.” Despite Pavel’s grip on him, Dmitri took a step closer. “Mae, point that fucking gun in a different direction.”

  “Or what?” She leaned harder against Keira, eliciting a flinch despite his wife’s stoic expression. She had to be terrified, but none of it showed on her face. Mae laughed. “I think I’ll leave this bitch bleeding in the street. How long do you think it will be until someone manages to tear their gaze away from their phones to call 911? Will she live or will she die? It’s like a flip of a coin—all up to chance.”