The Moon That Night

by Helen Brenna

  “March—”

  The man disconnected the call.

  Riley turned to Kate. “Have you figured out yet who owns that last statue?”

  Intent on her research, she didn’t say anything.

  “Kate?”

  “Got it,” she said. “It’s a Turkish businessman.” She ripped off the corner of the newspaper where she’d written down the name.

  Without thinking, he planted a quick kiss on her lips before pulling out his cell phone and calling Trace. Not until he glanced back at Kate, noticing her unsettled expression, did he realize what he’d done. Kissing her had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

  “Let’s get through customs,” he said turning away. “Find Roman and get done with this.”

  FOR THE FIRST TIME since this whole mess had started back in D.C. Kate was alone with Riley, and she wasn’t the only one intensely aware of their proximity. From the moment they’d left Ally at Angelo’s home early that morning until their six-hour flight had touched down in Russia, they’d danced around each other like skittish colts.

  Her fingers would accidentally brush against his and he’d draw away from her as if she was acid. He’d touch her arm while talking or protectively rest his hand on her lower back, and she’d feel herself shift away in order to put more distance between them. Then there’d been that quick kiss. He wasn’t purposely jerking her back and forth, but that’s how she felt all the same. By the time they’d made their way through customs, their awareness of each other was at an all-time high.

  She was actually relieved that Riley had called a friend, Roman Gordieva, while they’d still been in Athens and made arrangements to have him pick them up at the airport. Riley wanted some additional equipment and information, and Roman would likely be able to provide for everything.

  “How do you know this man?” she asked as they left the customs area.

  “We worked together during a peacekeeping mission in Bosnia and then met again as military liaisons in Afghanistan,” he said as they moved through throngs of travelers excitedly greeting relatives and friends. “There he is.” Riley pointed to a man a good thirty feet away, who was searching through the crowd. “Roman! Over here.”

  A man with the broadest shoulders Kate had ever seen came toward them, his arms outstretched. “James Riley,” he said with a smile. Although his nose looked as if it had been broken a couple times, he was handsome, with sandy-blond hair and clear blue eyes. “I wasn’t sure I would ever see you again.” He grabbed Riley roughly by the shoulders and planted a quick peck on one cheek and then the other.

  Smiling, Riley stepped back. “This is Kate.”

  “Good to meet you, Roman,” she said. “Kate. Privyet.” He ignored her outstretched hand in favor of another set of double kisses, and then a woman stepped forward, smiling widely as she stopped next to Roman.

  “This is Svetlana,” Roman said. “My wife.”

  She was gorgeous. With a long, lanky figure, wide blue eyes and high cheekbones, she looked as if she belonged on a fashion runway in Paris.

  Riley put out his hand. “Hello, Svetlana.”

  With tears in her eyes she pushed his hand aside and hugged him. Kate couldn’t help cracking a smile as Riley threw a questioning glance at Roman, his hands still at his sides.

  “What can I say?” Roman shrugged. “She’s grateful you saved her ugly mug of a husband.”

  Clearly clueless as to what to do with this overt show of affection, Riley awkwardly patted Svetlana on the back and then pulled away. “Thanks for helping us,” he said to Roman.

  “Family is most important. I will do what I can to help you rescue your sister-in-law.” He produced warm winter coats for both Kate and Riley before leading the way into frigid temperatures to his car outside. “So where are we going?”

  “The nearest hotel,” Riley said, explaining on the way that the Chaos statue needed air time. “We’ll leave it in a hotel room to dry. In fact, we’ll leave all of our gear there. We’ll pick everything up again before we head to Istanbul.”

  “Then where?”

  “Rublevo,” Riley said. “I want to get a visual on the property.”

  “That area is about as exclusive as it gets.” Roman glanced at him, his expression serious. “Who owns these statues you’re planning to steal?”

  Riley held Roman’s gaze for a long moment. “Vasili Belov.”

  Roman shook his head. “You must be joking.”

  “No.” Riley pulled out the file March had given him and handed it to Roman. “I have everything I need to know right here.”

  “Sveta, love,” Roman said as they approached his car, “will you drive so I can look at Riley’s plans?”

  “Of course, Romka.”

  Kate and Svetlana climbed into the front seat. The men climbed into the back and laid out a blueprint of Belov’s estate. “March’s sources indicated the statues will be here.” Riley pointed to a spot on a set of blueprints. “In the study on the second floor. At the side of the house.”

  As Roman studied Riley’s plans, Svetlana pulled up to the first hotel they found after leaving the airport.

  “This will only take a few minutes,” Riley said, hopping out.

  While Svetlana kept the car running and Roman continued looking through Riley’s files, Kate and Riley rented a room. Kate positioned the statue in such a way as to get maximum airflow for drying and cranked up the thermostat, hoping to dry the statue faster. She turned and longingly glanced at the king-size bed. “What I wouldn’t give for twelve hours of sleep.”

  “When this is over, you can sleep all you want.”

  That is if they were still alive.

  They climbed back into the car and Svetlana headed out to the freeway. While they cruised past the desolate winter landscape, Kate listened to the men discussing the placement of security guards and cameras.

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” Roman finally said. “Maybe with some additional men we could launch an assault, but sneak in, steal the statues and slip out?”

  “I don’t have a choice, Roman.”

  “You know Belov is neck-deep in organized crime?”

  “I know. Did some research on him when we were in Greece.”

  “March too chicken to do his own dirty work?”

  Riley chuckled. “If Grigori Kozmin were to find him in Russia—”

  “He’d take him apart, piece by piece.”

  Riley nodded. “Do you know where Kozmin is?”

  “Last I heard he was still in Moscow.” Roman sat back. “You do realize that if Belov finds out your plans, he will not hesitate in killing you. And Kate. And if Belov finds out I helped…”

  “That’s why I’ll be doing this alone,” Riley said.

  Kate glanced back at Riley, but he wouldn’t look at her. Worried, she glanced at Svetlana.

  “That’s Belov right there,” Svetlana said, indicating a photo in a newspaper sitting between the two front seats.

  Kate only half heard Riley planning to keep her out of this—again—as she picked up the society pages. “Which one is he?”

  “Him.” Svetlana pointed at the unsmiling man in the middle.

  “What’s the photo about?”

  Svetlana glanced at the blurb. “Apparently there is a party at Belov’s estate tonight starting at eight. A fund-raiser for the Pushkin.”

  Although she couldn’t read Russian, Kate studied the photo as Roman and Riley continued their discussion. The picture was of several people standing in front of the Pushkin Museum. She’d done some restoration work there several years back and recognized one of the curators in the picture.

  “How long do we have?” Roman asked. “How long will you plan on being in Russia?”

  “One night,” Riley said.

  “What?”

  “I have to meet March in Istanbul tomorrow. Late afternoon.”

  “That will be a problem.” Roman shook his head. “If you had a week or two to plan, you woul
d find a way in. But with only one night?” He sounded disgusted. “I’m sorry, Riley. I don’t think this can be done.”

  “Wait a minute,” Kate muttered as a thought occurred to her. She spun around and showed the men the newspaper. “We can get into Belov’s house through this fund-raiser.”

  Roman glanced from Kate to Riley. “But it will be an invitation-only event, and I won’t be able to get you in.”

  “I can.” Kate smiled as she tapped the paper. “I’ve done work for this curator at the Pushkin. Helped him out of quite a jam, in fact. He’ll get us tickets.”

  Roman raised his eyebrows. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  “Don’t encourage her,” Riley murmured.

  Kate glared at him. “This can work, and you know it.”

  “No.”

  “You have a better plan?” she asked.

  “I said no.”

  “This party at Belov’s estate is our only chance.”

  “What I wouldn’t do to attend a party at Vasili Belov’s estate,” Svetlana said dreamily. “For a glimpse inside that magnificent mansion.”

  “Never going to happen,” Roman said.

  “Sounds like a black-tie event, yes?” she asked her husband.

  “Probably.”

  “What difference does it make?” Riley barked, glaring at Kate.

  Ignoring him, Svetlana grinned at Kate. “I have the perfect dress for you to wear.”

  “I said we’re not going, and that’s final.” Riley grabbed the paper and threw it aside. “I’ll find some other way into Belov’s estate.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “UNBELIEVABLE,” ROMAN SAID, glancing through binoculars. “That place is a fortress.” His breath clouded into puffs of ice crystals in the cold air.

  Riley, Kate, Roman and Svetlana were hidden inside the tree line of thick pines on the undeveloped land bordering Belov’s estate, studying the comings and goings. The staff was busy with final preparations for the party, and security was tight. Every caterer’s vehicle was searched inside and out. Every person entering the grounds was thoroughly patted down and IDs checked and cross-checked. Security cameras and armed guards were positioned everywhere Riley would have put them. Whoever was in charge of security knew what he was doing.

  “There’s got to be a way in,” Riley muttered. The alternative… Well, he wasn’t even going to think about it.

  “Too late to nab a caterer or trade places with a guard.” Roman lowered his binoculars and handed them to Kate. “Besides, you don’t know Russian well enough to pass as either.”

  Riley could understand the language better than he could speak it.

  “We don’t have a choice,” Kate said. “We have to go to the party as guests.”

  “Absolutely not,” Riley said.

  Svetlana raised her eyebrows at Kate.

  “Why not?” Kate challenged.

  “Because I won’t put you at risk like that. For the last time, this isn’t your battle.”

  “And I’m telling you for the last time,” she snapped back at him, “that it sure as hell is.”

  “Let’s get out of here.” Riley marched through several inches of snow back through the woods to Roman’s car. Riley had no sooner slammed his door than his cell phone rang.

  “Trace?” Kate asked from the backseat.

  “Yep.” Holding his breath, Riley answered. “Tell me this is over.”

  “I wish I could.” Trace sighed over the line. “We were waiting for March at the location you gave us. He showed up without Jenny.”

  “Your plan didn’t work.”

  “Not exactly. But there is a positive outcome I wasn’t anticipating.”

  “And that is?”

  “March doesn’t know we’re here. He thinks he lost us in China.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He’s making mistakes. He’s being cocky. He thinks he’s got this deal nailed.”

  “So we have to follow this through to the end.”

  “I’m sorry, Riley, but it looks like it. The first chance we get, we’ll get Jenny back.”

  Riley disconnected the call.

  “It didn’t work?” Kate asked. “No.”

  “Which means we have no choice but to steal Belov’s statues.”

  He nodded. Or die trying.

  A few minutes later they were back on the freeway and heading to Roman and Svetlana’s apartment to regroup. The car ride was deathly silent. Roman had initially attempted a conversation, but after no response from either Kate or Riley, he gave up. He pulled into an apartment complex parking lot.

  The moment Roman stopped the car Kate hopped out and slammed the door. She paced outside waiting for Riley, her arms crossed, clearly itching for a fight.

  “I’m waiting here until the coast is clear,” Roman said.

  “You better go out and talk to her,” Svetlana whispered.

  Riley climbed out of the car and faced her head-on. “I’m not discussing this anymore.”

  “Well, you don’t get to decide. I’m going to Belov’s party and I’ll steal the statues on my own if I have to.” She snapped open her cell phone and dialed, presumably, the curator’s number. “The only thing you get to choose,” she said while waiting for the call to be answered, “is whether you’re coming along as my date or my bodyguard.” She stalked into the apartment complex, leaving Riley outside.

  “I’ll take care of her,” Svetlana said. She climbed out of the car and ran after Kate.

  Roman got out of the car and glanced at Riley. “She’s right, you know.”

  Clenching his jaw, Riley looked away. “I know.” But that didn’t make the situation any easier to swallow.

  “That’s one hell of a woman. If I didn’t have my Sveta, I’d be giving you a run for your money. But with you around I doubt I’d get anywhere.”

  Unsure as to his meaning, Riley studied the other man. Although Roman had taken himself off the playing field the moment he’d met Svetlana, the first time Riley had ever seen him, the Russian had had three women practically dripping off his arms.

  “Riley, you’re an idiot.” Roman chuckled. “You’re going to blow this, aren’t you?”

  KATE’S BODYGUARD. Not again in this lifetime.

  Date it was.

  Less than an hour later, dressed in a black tux, Riley paced in Roman’s kitchen waiting for Kate. His shirt collar was scratchy and his shoes stiff as a two-by-four, but there was no way he was letting her head into that party alone. He didn’t want her going at all, but with Trace no closer to breaking Jenny free, Riley didn’t have many options.

  Antsy to get this ball rolling, he glanced at his watch. Kate and Svetlana had been sequestered in the master bedroom for the better part of the past hour, but enough was enough. He stalked through the house and knocked on the closed door. “Kate? We need to go.”

  “Almost ready,” Svetlana answered. “She’s coming.”

  As Kate had expected, her curator friend had guaranteed that he would get Kate’s name along with a guest added to Belov’s party list, so they weren’t required to stop and pick up tickets. Still, Riley wanted to arrive at the estate at the peak of attendance, assuring the most distractions for Belov’s security staff, and if they waited much longer the crowd was bound to thin out.

  The bedroom door opened and Svetlana came out. “She’s ready.”

  When Kate walked into the hall, it was all Riley could do to keep his jaw from flapping open. Any doubt in his mind that the teenage Kate he remembered had morphed into a grown woman was wiped away with one look at her now.

  For the first time since he’d broken in to her workroom at that D.C. museum, she was wearing makeup, turning her natural beauty into dramatic splendor. Her eyes were framed with dark liner and gold shadow, and her lips were a glossy bright pink. She wore a long beaded necklace and matching earrings. Her shoulder-length hair was straight, shiny and slightly puffed up in the back with a few long bangs sweeping across her forehead. S
he wore a pair of sandals with the tallest heels he’d ever seen, bringing her eyes exactly level with his mouth.

  But it was the dress, bloodred and cut low enough to show off some cleavage, that stunned him speechless. The skintight fabric clung to her gorgeous bottom, and the short length made her look as leggy as a newborn colt.

  “You’re going to freeze in that thing,” he said, wishing he could get her into something…reasonable. Like a turtleneck.

  “It is rather short. And tight,” Svetlana said, laughing. “There’s nowhere to hide a gun, that’s for sure.”

  Nowhere to hide a gun, indeed. She’d be lucky to slide a credit card between her skin and that fabric. Son of a bitch. He got a hard-on looking at her.

  “That’s all you have to say?” Kate said, smiling and spinning around. “Come on. How do I look?”

  “Nothing short of stunning,” Roman said with a smile.

  Kate’s gaze locked with Riley’s. “Well?”

  “Amazing,” he whispered.

  “You don’t look so bad yourself.” She eyed him up and down. “And you shaved.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” He ran a hand over his smooth cheek, and with monumental effort tore his eyes off Kate. “I was long overdue.”

  Roman’s gaze heated as he glanced at his wife. “Sveta, my love, time for a new dress for you, eh? And a reason to wear it?”

  “I need no reason.” Svetlana grinned. “Anything for you, Romka.”

  Great. A lovefest. “Time for us to go,” Riley said, heading for the door.

  “Wait!” Svetlana said, running to a closet and dragging out a jacket-length coat in dark sable. “It’s faux fur, but better than nothing.”

  “I can’t take that,” Kate said, shaking her head.

  “It’s okay. Roman owes me a real one, don’t you, Romka?” Svetlana draped the coat over Kate’s shoulders.

  “That I do. One more thing before you go.” Roman went to a kitchen cabinet, pulled out a full bottle of vodka and several shot glasses. He set the glasses on the table, poured out the liquor and grabbed one of the shots for himself. “Na zdaroviye!”