Secured by the SEAL

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Secured by the SEAL Page 10

by Carol Ericson


  Britt licked her lips. She’d be at the same party as Alexei, at the banquet hall. She might even get an opportunity to meet Olav Belkin, the head of the crime family.

  “Thank you. Yes, I’d like to work.” She scooted past Sergei and paused at the office door. “Which of the waitresses backed out of the party?”

  “Jessie.” Sergei snapped his fingers in dismissal. “Worthless girl. Quit when she didn’t get dancing job.”

  Britt nodded and gritted her back teeth through her smile as she backed out of the office. What had happened to Jessie?

  The next hour, she worked her tables in a fog. Nobody seemed to know anything about Jessie, and Britt was afraid to show too much interest in the other waitress’s whereabouts.

  When she spotted Alexei seated at a table with two other men, she snapped out of her fog. She had no way to communicate with him tonight, but then she’d be seeing him back at the hotel after her shift.

  He’d warned her to make absolutely sure nobody followed her from the club. He’d be keeping a safe distance on his bike to run interference in case he noticed something.

  Alexei and his party had a table of honor, front and center, courtesy of Sergei—and as the newest waitress, she didn’t rate those tables.

  At the end of the night, Britt made a point of crowding into the changing room with the dancers so she could talk to Mila, who was primping at the mirror.

  Britt spied a tube of lipstick on the floor and kicked it toward the mirror. She followed the silver cylinder and bent forward, sweeping it up in one movement. “Did you drop this?”

  Mila turned from the mirror, her hand still raised in mid-mascara stroke. “No, that is not mine. Vera?”

  “Not mine.”

  Britt dropped her gaze to Mila’s slender arms, unblemished by any tattoos, and let out a long breath. The dancer hadn’t made it to the tattoo parlor yet. And when she did?

  Britt’s gaze darted around the room at the other dancers. None of them sported tattoos—at least not the B with the snake on the underside of their forearms.

  What happened to the women once they got the tattoo? Was dancing in one of the Belkins’ clubs the first step to working in their stable?

  Had Leanna discovered all of this? Surely, more than a few of the women must have some clue about that side of the Belkins’ operation. It didn’t have to be a death sentence.

  Then why get rid of Tatyana? Leanna? Jerome? Was she next? Britt shivered. She wouldn’t be next with Alexei on her side.

  She grabbed her purse from the bench. “Night, all.”

  She slipped out the back door of the club and hitched her bag over her shoulder as she trudged to her car. None of the shadows or noises in the alley scared her because she knew Alexei was close by.

  A rattling sound came barreling up behind her, and she jumped to the side. Calvin rolled past her, his feet on the edge of his shopping cart.

  “You in a hurry, Calvin?”

  “No, just enjoying summer. No overcast skies today.”

  “It was beautiful.” Britt dug into her pocket and pulled out a handful of her tip money. She called after Calvin. “I got something for you.”

  Calvin dragged his foot on the ground to slow down his basket and made a U-turn. He pushed his gray hair out of his eyes before holding out his hand.

  Britt crumpled the bills into his palm, and he closed his hand around her fingers, his grip stronger than she’d expected. When she tried to pull away, he tightened his hold, leaning in close, the alcohol on his breath fierce against her face.

  His faded eyes glittered, and he whispered, “You’re like her, like Lee-Low.”

  Chapter Eight

  Britt sucked in a breath and grabbed the grimy sleeve of his shirt. “What do you know about Lee-Low?”

  “Barbie? You okay?” Irina charged toward them down the alley. “Go away, you filthy man.”

  Calvin yanked away from Britt and skated away on his basket.

  “You all right, Barbie?” Irina circled her finger at her temple. “He is crazy person.”

  “I’m okay. I was just giving him a little money, and he got excited.”

  Irina wrinkled her nose. “Don’t encourage him. He hangs around here all the time. I call police once.”

  “He’s harmless.”

  “I walk you to car anyway.”

  “Then who’s going to walk you to your car?”

  Irina winked and opened her purse wide enough for Britt to see the gun tucked inside. “As Americans say, Misters Smith and Wesson walk me to car.”

  Swallowing, Britt gave Irina a weak smile.

  Once she was safely in the driver’s seat with the engine running and she saw Irina getting into her own car, Britt hugged the steering column and rested her forehead on top of the steering wheel.

  What had just happened? How did Calvin know Leanna and what made him say she was like her?

  Britt grabbed the edge of the rearview mirror and searched behind her for Calvin, but Irina had scared him off. Had Irina been trying to send her a message by showing her that weapon?

  She rolled the car forward with her eyes still glued to the mirror. No single headlight lit up in the distance. Maybe Alexei had gotten tired of waiting for her. She pulled onto the boulevard, and like magic the solitary light appeared in the distance behind her like a comforting beacon. She made a few turns like Alexei had instructed her to do earlier, all the while watching her mirrors for any suspicious cars making the same turns. The only one following her was Alexei on his motorcycle.

  It made her feel safe, although she’d had nothing but trouble in her life since the moment she ran into Alexei in Sergei’s office. But if Alexei hadn’t been there that night, Sergei would’ve seen her on the surveillance video and she might be dead...like Jerome. Like Jessie? Like Tatyana? Like...? No, she wouldn’t go there. She had to talk to Calvin to find out what he knew about Leanna.

  The manicured streets of Beverly Hills began to replace the grittier streets of Hollywood, and Britt breathed a little easier. Nobody but Alexei had followed her.

  She dumped her car with the valet and nodded at the doorman as he jumped to open the door for her. She beat Alexei to the room and was waiting for him by the window when he walked in.

  “Success.” He pumped his fist in the air. “I got an invitation to the Belkins’ party tomorrow night.”

  “So did I.”

  His eyebrows shot up to his messy hair. “You?”

  “Sergei asked me to work.”

  “No!”

  It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

  “Not a good idea.” He shrugged off his jacket. “Do you know what goes on at those parties?”

  “I’m thinking the exchange of a lot of information. Maybe I can even get a better look into the Belkin family organization.”

  “That’s the Belkin family crime organization. How do you think those women with the tattoos get started?” He smacked a fist into his palm. “Parties like these.”

  “That’s even better. If Leanna knew something about the sex trafficking, maybe I can find out what happened to her there.”

  “Doubt it.” He raised a finger as if to shake it in her face and then thought better of it, collapsing in a chair and stretching his legs in front of him. “I suppose it’s not going to do me any good to tell you not to go.”

  “Nope.” She walked toward him and stepped over his long legs in her path. “I’ve got more to tell you.”

  “You always do. Were you able to convince everyone you had a date with Jerome the night he was killed?”

  “I think so, but there’s more.” She sat on the edge of the sofa, crossing one leg over the other and kicking it back and forth to release her nervous energy. “Have you seen the homeless guy who hangs out in the alley behind the club?”


  “I think so. Older guy with a basket?”

  “Yeah—Calvin. I’ve talked to him a few times, given him some money, and tonight he told me I was like Lee-Low.”

  “He knew your sister?”

  “Yeah. I was going to start grilling him, but Irina saw us and yelled at him, scared him off.”

  “She’d scare anyone off. Did she hear what you two were talking about?”

  “She was too far away to hear anything, and then she showed me her gun in her purse.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me.”

  “That she has a gun or that she showed it to me?”

  “That she has one. She’s at that club, working late—not the most upstanding clientele in that place.”

  “There was something else.” Britt stopped kicking her leg and tucked her hands beneath her thighs. “The reason I’m working the gig tomorrow night is because Jessie canceled.”

  “Jessie?”

  “I told you about her. She’s a waitress, and she stayed late at the club the night that Jerome was murdered, and I haven’t seen her since. She called in sick the next night, wasn’t there tonight, and Sergei asked me to fill in for her at the party.”

  “Another disappearing woman.” He held up three fingers and ticked them off. “Tatyana, Lee and now Jessie. I don’t want there to be a fourth.”

  “There’s not going to be a fourth.”

  “She says with confidence.” He rose from the chair and joined her on the sofa. “How can you be so sure?”

  Turning toward him, she cupped his stubbled jaw. “Because I have you.”

  Alexei’s blue eyes darkened and kindled, as if a flame burned in their depths. He took her hand gently and turned it over, drilling a finger in the center of her palm. “You do have me...for now.”

  Britt snatched her hand away and jumped up from the couch. Did he have to be so brutally honest? Was she asking for forever?

  Although she wouldn’t mind forever. She pressed a hand to her warm cheek. He’d seen it in her face.

  She had a careful mask that she wore in sessions with her clients, but she dropped it as soon as she left her office. If her clients could see her real face, the emotions playing across it as they unveiled their anxieties and fears and scary thoughts, they’d fire her. She made up for that stoicism on her off time—with a vengeance.

  Alexei appeared next to her, resting one hand on her hip. “I mean, I’m here for as long as you need me.”

  She cracked a smile. “Be careful making promises you can’t keep, Russki.”

  His hand slid to her waist, and the kiss he pressed against her lips tasted of vodka and expensive cigars and an aching truth.

  She didn’t mind truth. She accepted his kiss, on his terms...for now. It was all she had.

  He whispered against her mouth, “I can’t promise you anything more than tonight.”

  After she untangled her tongue from his, she whispered back, “I’m good with tonight.”

  He’d lifted her in his arms before she even knew what he was doing. When he carried her into the opulent suite’s bedroom, she clung to him tighter, wanting to commit every detail to memory for future daydreams.

  He poured her boneless form from his arms to the bed and pointed to his feet. “Need to get these motorcycle boots off first.”

  “Take your time.” She toed off her sneakers and rubbed her tight calves. “I wouldn’t mind trying out that shower in there with the two heads.”

  “Would be nice to scrub off the filth of that club from both of our bodies.”

  “I’ll do yours if you do mine.” She yanked her white blouse from the waistband of her skirt and unbuttoned the top two buttons. “There’s even a towel-warming rack in there. I used it earlier.”

  “If you say so. I can’t figure out half the things in that bathroom.”

  “I’ll start warming up a couple of towels.” She floated to the bathroom like she was walking on air, her feet barely touching the carpet.

  She draped two fluffy towels over the warming rack and cranked on both showerheads. She shimmied out of her skirt and peeled off her blouse. She kicked both into the corner just as Alexei appeared at the door naked and so fine she didn’t know where to look first.

  She choked. “That was fast.”

  “Any complaints?”

  “Does this look like complaining?” She pointed to the big smile on her face.

  “And you—” he approached her like a panther assessing his prey “—are very, very slow.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and unhooked her bra. Then he slipped both of his hands into her underwear and cupped her bottom. Pulling her close, he speared her with his erection.

  She sucked in a breath. “I thought we were going to shower first.”

  “We are, but I’m good at multitasking.” And then he proved it by caressing her flesh and kissing her mouth, all while making her insides quake and quiver.

  When he let her up for air, she held up her hand. “Hang on. I need to put my hair up.”

  While he tested the water spraying from the showerheads, Britt twisted her hair into a bun and shed her panties. She ran a hand down his back and muscled buttocks. “How’s the water?”

  “Perfect.” Turning toward her, he encircled her waist with both hands. “Like everything else in here.”

  The cavernous shower had no door, no curtain, not even a border step into the wet tiles, and she and Alexei moved seamlessly into the warm jets.

  The water hit the backs of his shoulders and trickled onto his chest, clinging to the black hair scattered there. She laid a hand between his pectoral muscles, spreading her fingers and curling them into his flesh. “My skin is so pale next to yours.”

  He cupped her breasts and then smoothed his hands down her sides and clamped them on her hips. “Your skin is so soft next to mine.”

  The huge shower suddenly seemed tiny and close, the spray beating down between her shoulder blades suddenly scorching hot. She leaned into him, her tongue darting along his collarbone, flicking at the droplets of water.

  “You forgot washcloths, so I guess I’m going to have to use my hands to wash your body.” He reached past her and cradled the bar of soap in his palm before lathering it between his hands.

  “Oh well,” she managed weakly.

  He started just beneath her chin, his soapy hands skimming down her neck and shoulders, where he stopped to caress the knots that had been building there for days.

  Circling his palms on her breasts, he said, “You have the most perfect breasts.”

  “Mmm.” She closed her eyes as her nipples peaked and crinkled beneath his touch. “What makes a breast perfect?”

  “The fact that they seem at home right here.” He cradled her breasts with both hands, sluicing his thumbs across her nipples.

  The electrifying sensation shot to her belly, and she grabbed his biceps. “You’re turning me to jelly, and I need to do some exploring of my own before I’m too weak to lift one finger.”

  She soaped up her own hands and traced the muscles and hard edges of his body. She explored his body like a woman devoid of sight, her fingertips registering every dip and hard plane. The feel of him beneath her touch satisfied some deep urge within her that she couldn’t name.

  He shivered. “It feels like you’re painting on my skin, making your mark.”

  She chewed on her lower lip. This was supposed to be a quickie hookup designed to slake their crazy thirst for each other, get it out of the way so that they could return to serious business without distraction.

  She curled up one corner of her lip and ran her soapy hands along the length of his erection. “I’m just teasing you before the main event.”

  He growled and lunged forward. “Let’s get to the main event on the bed. I don’t want either one of us slipping in here and crackin
g our heads on this expensive tile.”

  They both stepped back under their showerheads and rinsed off, and the space between them gave Britt a shiver.

  Alexei reached for the rack and yanked one towel free. “It worked. This is warm.”

  He pressed the towel against her, and she melted against the heated terry cloth. “That’s nice. I’m going to have to consider one of those for my bathroom at home.”

  “Me, too.” He grabbed the other towel.

  He’d never even told her where home was.

  Britt left the shower first, and the two small steps between her and Alexei yawned between them like a gulf. They’d shared a deep connection in that shower, one that she’d broken, one that Alexei had never wanted.

  Her cell phone rang from the other room, and it acted like a prod, just like it had ever since the day her sister had gone missing.

  “I have to get that.” She tucked the towel around her body and scurried into the sitting room. The light from her phone glowed on the sofa where she’d left it.

  She lunged for the cell and glanced at the unknown number as she answered. “Hello?”

  A husky, harsh whisper replied. “The baby, find the baby.”

  Britt frowned at Alexei, who’d followed her out from the bedroom, wrapping his towel around his waist.

  “I think you have the wrong number.”

  “You’re Lee’s sister.”

  Britt caught her breath. “Do you know where she is? Do you know where my sister is?”

  A man’s laughter from the background came over the line, and the caller’s voice dropped even lower, her Russian accent more pronounced. “Find baby. Find baby and bring them all down.”

  “What baby? Whose baby?”

  “Tatyana’s baby.”

  Chapter Nine

  Britt shouted into the phone. “Tatyana has a baby?”

  Alexei’s pulse jumped, and he mimicked pressing a button with his thumb to get Britt to put her phone on speaker.

  “She’s gone.” Britt stared at the phone cupped in her trembling hand.

  “Tatyana?” His gut churned. “Your sister?”

  “No, no. The caller. She hung up.”

 

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