Watching Her

by Harlem Dae

  He pulled on his boxers, covering his now flaccid penis. It seemed Kolya’s boss worked on a need-to-know basis, which wasn’t good for me and my plan to wheedle information from him.

  Even so, I thought about what he’d said, and a knot of regret curled in my stomach.

  So Sutton had been telling the truth. He had wanted to protect me, on behalf of my father. But the trouble was, Kolya and his boss thought they could do the job better. Which was why I was here now. They also seemed concerned about Guilia, and Sutton didn’t, which for me, made Kolya the man I wanted to have my back.

  And that was a damn shame, if I was honest. I had a lot to offer Sutton, if he’d let me give it. There was something undeniably appealing about him. A man lost to himself who needed a good woman to help him find the person he was inside again.

  But he wouldn’t ever have me now; I wasn’t to be that woman, so it was his loss.

  And, judging by the way my Russian was humming a happy tune as he strode from the room, I was pretty good at helping a man find himself.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I was expecting a jumbo jet, economy class, where I’d have to sit next to people I’d never imagined sitting beside, complete with cramped leg space, squealing children with snotty noses, and a decidedly distasteful scent to the air. Instead, I sat inside a private plane, all chrome finishes and leather upholstery. Carpet on the floor, too—cream, shag pile, expensive.

  “This is a nice surprise,” I said to Kolya, who sat beside me on an aisle seat.

  “It is. We are lucky to be travelling this way.”

  I stared out of the window to my left at white clouds, which had patched together to form one large quilt that covered the world beneath. Somewhere below, Father was plotting to save his own skin and, I suspected, not giving much thought to me or Guilia, except to send Sutton my way. And also somewhere below, my little Guilia was possibly about to be dragged into a terrible thing, something Father, her grandfather, had created.

  “Of course,” I said, blustering on, “I’ve been in a similar plane before. Father has one. But I generally use public flights when on business.”

  “You are not on business now. Not your usual business, anyway.”

  No, I wasn’t, not for Blooms. But this was still my business. This trip now, everything that had happened previously, was my business because it involved me. I could have said that to him, been uppity about it, too, but this man sitting not three inches away…it wasn’t his fault. He was almost as much of a puppet as I was.

  At some point back there in my recent past, Blooms had fallen by the wayside. I couldn’t quite remember when, exactly. In the market, at the café? When we’d packed to leave for Clearwater? My reason for being in foreign climes had been snatched away, replaced with this rather frightening ‘business’ that I’d wanted no part of. Until it had been made clear that Guilia was involved. Everything else had faded into insignificance then, and my safety had failed to register, especially when I’d found her pictures. What a darling little girl she was.

  “When do you think I’ll be able to return to my own business?” I asked to prevent myself getting maudlin. Angry. Seeking revenge. “I have work to do, believe it or not.”

  “I am not sure. My boss will let me know when or if you can go back to your old life.”

  “When or if?” I’d taken it for granted that things would go back to normal once this bloody awful situation had been cleared up. What was he saying? That I might not be able to continue with Blooms? To live in Juniper Hall and commute to London? Have a staff of my own?

  “Yes. When or if. Sometimes things can go wrong.”

  I hated the sound of that. “What kind of wrong?” My heart was speeding.

  “People do not do as we predict. Plans are made but are not followed through. Plan A turns to Plan B, then, if they go wrong and Plan C is not in place…”

  Anger seared my windpipe, and bile raced into my throat, burning, so bloody hot it hurt. “Then plans for the whole of the fucking alphabet ought to be drawn up, because there is no choice here but to make sure Guilia is safe. I will not settle for anything less.”

  One of the pictures of her rose from my subconscious, swarming into the forefront of my mind. The idea of my little girl knowing even one ounce of terror screwed with my head, and I resisted the urge to knuckle my stinging eyes.

  “I will tell my boss that you want the whole alphabet.” He reached over and patted my hand.

  The gesture stung my eyes further.

  “Thank you,” I said. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Took a deep breath to calm myself. “She’s innocent. She has no idea what her grandfather is up to and doesn’t deserve to be dragged into this…whatever it is.”

  “She is the same as you, then.”

  Yes, she was the same as me. In the same damn boat. And my father had put her there because he’d refused to do as he’d been asked, and was prepared to risk the lives of his child and hers. He wasn’t a good man. Oh, I’d always known he wasn’t the best, but this…this crap had cemented my suspicions. Father only thought about himself.

  “Are we going to Austria?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Whereabouts?”

  “It is better that you do not know. For now.”

  “I see.” I didn’t see, of course I didn’t, but I wasn’t about to push it. Even though I had it in mind to cajole more information out of him, I thought it best to sometimes sit back and be quiet. Only sometimes, though.

  “We will be staying somewhere private,” he said.

  “Like the metal cabin?” I’d quite liked that little place, even though it had been too bloody hot to start with.

  “Maybe.” He stared out of the window to his right, past the two empty chairs on the other side of the aisle.

  “Will it be cold there?” Maybe information would come with my seemingly innocent query. I wanted to know if we’d be in alp territory, blankets of snow covering everything in sight. “Because you know I don’t have the right clothes for that. So I’d need to visit some shops to buy something appropriate.”

  That’s it, play the so-called typical woman, always worrying about her wardrobe.

  “You do not need to think about that. New clothes are at our destination.”

  “But you don’t know my size. I don’t want to walk around in things that are too big or small. I simply cannot wear certain fabrics, either.” Keep going. Wait for him to slip up… “They chafe. And I doubt very much they’ll have a Harrods where we’re going. All my underwear…I can only tolerate their bras and knickers.”

  “Then you will have to suffer—for Guilia’s sake.”

  Well, that put me in my place, didn’t it? Of course I’d suffer for her, and I wanted him to know that. My ploy had gone wrong, and now he’d think I was a terrible person.

  Why do I care if he does?

  I didn’t know. People’s opinions of me had never really mattered since Aaron. Until, that was, I’d met Sutton and now Kolya. What the devil was happening to me?

  “Yes, well,” I said. “I’d go out in public naked for her.” It was the best I could come up with to show him my desire to protect her.

  “That will not be necessary.”

  A small smile lifted his cheek, and I wished I could see his whole face to check whether that smile had reached his eyes. With him still staring out of the window, I couldn’t get a handle on his true expression.

  “You will make sure she’s okay, won’t you?” I asked.

  Vulnerability came over me, strong and sharp. This child of mine, she meant everything. Just because I couldn’t see her every day and have a say in her upbringing, it didn’t mean the bond had gone. We’d always be tied, no matter what, by that invisible umbilical cord. I’d never wanted it severed in the first place. My life since she’d left it had been a parody of what it should have been, a joke where I played the part of a sex-crazed woman with not a care in the world.

  But I did care.
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  “I will make sure the child is unharmed,” Kolya said. He turned to face me. His features had hardened, and his eyes were inscrutable, pale and beady. “It is not in me to admit defeat. I have been trained to accept only winning. Anything else is not an option.”

  That made me feel better. The fierce tone of his words—this was the man who would do the job correctly. While Sutton had shown signs of promise in the spy department, he hadn’t had that edge about him. His ‘bumbling’ side, whether fake or real, had shown a weakness to him at times—and weakness wasn’t going to work in this situation.

  Was I trying to convince myself, yet again, that I’d gone with the right person? Did it even matter who I was with, so long as my daughter was all right?

  Some levity was in order, before I crumbled with the enormity of it all.

  “Did you enjoy yourself with me?” I asked.

  “I did.” His sudden smile shattered his previous expression. And it reached his eyes. “Did you?”

  A pang of guilt speared me then. Was he feeling something for me that he shouldn’t? Had I got to him that quickly? “Yes. I did.”

  “You are a talented woman,” he said. “Apart from the teeth thing.” He tapped his own.

  “That was just a bit of fun.”

  “For you maybe.” He huffed.

  “Do you have sex with all the women you come into contact with for your job?”

  “No.” His eyes clouded. “I should not have…with you. My boss would not like to hear of it. This kind of thing does not go down well, with anyone.”

  “I won’t be telling a soul. It’s none of their business. So your secret’s safe with me.” I curled my fingers around his. “Sometimes, stressful events make a person crave a release of that tension. That’s all we did. We took from another what we each needed. Does that make you feel better, to look at it like that?”

  “Yes. Thank you for saying that.” His shoulders sagged a little.

  Had what we’d done been playing on his mind? I suspected it had; otherwise, why be so uptight?

  “It’s not a crime, you know,” I went on. “To want someone. Just because you’re working, it doesn’t mean you can’t take pleasure while you’re at it.”

  “I know, but I should not have allowed it. I was not fully alert when we… Something could have happened—I might not have heard an intruder.”

  I didn’t want Kolya talking himself out of having sex with me again. I needed him to fuck me. I needed more information; presuming he had it, that was. “You would have heard something unusual. You’ve been trained. I’d bet that even in sleep you’d notice. Don’t beat yourself up.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I think you are right.”

  “I am. So next time, don’t even worry about not doing your job properly.”

  He frowned. “Next time?”

  “Yes, next time.” I raised my eyebrows. “Why, don’t you want to fuck me again?”

  He clamped his lips together, and they turned down, as though he hadn’t entertained the possibility of round two in the bedroom. “Yes, but I did not think… I did not think you would want to fuck someone like me the first time, so a second?”

  Oh, dear God, the poor man.

  “Don’t you have sex very often?” I asked.

  “Not with people who want to. Not without…paying them.”

  Shit. He’d given me such a big insight into his life. And here I was, toying with his emotions. His words from earlier came back to me.

  ‘Unless, of course, the woman has fingers in pies.’

  Playing the game I was with him meant I had fingers in pies. Would he kill me if he found out? I sensed he would. He’d do whatever he had to in order to complete a mission. Unless he’d fallen in love with me, perhaps?

  Like he’s going to do that. It’ll be fine. I’ve said we’re just releasing tension—no mention of a relationship. Surely he realises that.

  But could I grow to care about him without an agenda? Did it matter what he looked like? He could certainly fuck, I’d give him that. And beneath his stern exterior, I thought he was kind, that he would be a sensitive soul.

  But no. I didn’t think he’d ever be the man for me.

  “You’ll never have to pay me,” I said, squeezing his fingers. “Because I want to. You’re a good man, Kolya, and I love to fuck a good man.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Thank you.”

  And, to make sure he really knew the score… “Like I said, we’re just releasing tension from one another to help us cope. There’s nothing wrong in that. When this is all over, we can walk away, no strings attached.”

  Is that a glint of sadness in his eyes there?

  But I couldn’t allow myself to feel sorry for Kolya. Like him, I had to train myself not to fail in my mission.

  “We have to get some sleep,” he said.

  So that was the end of that, then.

  “Yes, we do.” I smiled. “Although I could do with some more stress release…”

  He laughed quietly. “I have never met anyone like you.”

  “No,” I said, dipping my head into his lap while drawing down his zip. “And I doubt you’ll ever meet anyone like me again.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The descent was stomach-churningly rough, and I held my breath and gripped the armrest. It was dark, and judging by the way we were buffeted about, windy, too. The blackness made it hard to tell when we would hit the runway. And hit it we did, in a kangaroo style up-and-down bounce, the wheels hopping twice and the fuselage tilting to the right.

  I gasped, squeezed my eyes shut, and listened to the roar of the reverse thrust. Small private jets might look fancy, but they took a beating in bad weather.

  “Welcome to Vienna,” Kolya said as though we hadn’t just had a near-death experience.

  “Vienna.” My voice was hoarse. So we were in the capital of Austria. That both thrilled and terrified me. I’d much prefer for Guilia to have been left out of this whole drama. If she was on the other side of the globe right now, no one knowing of her existence, that would suit me very well.

  But that wasn’t up to me. What say did I get in all of this?

  No more than when I’d been sent to this country all those years ago. I’d had no choice then, either. It had all been planned out for me.

  The plane taxied for a few minutes then came to a halt.

  An onboard crew member opened the door, and a man stepped in from the outside world amidst a swirl of powdery snow. He carried what appeared to be a huge black fur coat, hat, and matching snow boots. They were peppered in white. “Ms Claudine?”

  I was silent. Who was this bearded person wearing a ushanka and a stiff black jacket?

  Kolya stood then sidestepped down the aisle towards him. “This is her.”

  “She will need these.” He spoke with a heavy accent similar to Kolya’s.

  “Thank you.” Kolya took the coat, hat, and boots from him.

  “And you are to come with me now. The boss would like to see you both.”

  “Now?” Kolya seemed surprised.

  “That is what I said, Prizrak Chelovek.” He huffed and turned, slipping through the door and into the night.

  I shivered. The Floridian warmth we’d brought with us had already been sucked out into the wintery air.

  “Put these on,” Kolya said. “And hurry.”

  “Are we going with that man?”

  “Yes.” He opened a top cupboard, dragged out a thick navy coat with a large collar, and shrugged into it. He whizzed the zipper up to his chin.

  “What does Prizrak Chelovek mean?”

  “Ghost Man.” He grunted. “It is his stupid name for me.”

  “You don’t like him?”

  “He is a colleague, not a friend.”

  “Ah, okay.” I pulled my coat on. Not something I’d have chosen for myself, but I couldn’t deny it felt sumptuous and tickled the skin on my neck and jawline. After swapping the sandals I’d worn in Florida for the boots
, I followed Kolya down the aisle.

  As soon as I stepped outside, a blast of chilled air hit my face. It held small, freezing flakes of snow that clung to my cheeks and basted my hair. Quickly, I rammed the hat on, tugged the flaps over my ears, then rushed to catch up with Kolya.

  He was striding towards a small terminal building that had a silver Range Rover parked outside, my belongings in a bag that slapped his outer thigh with each step.

  “Get in,” he said, holding open the back door.

  I did as he’d asked, glad to be out of the wild wintery weather.

  He slid into the passenger seat, next to the man who wasn’t his friend, and stowed my bag in the foot well.

  I clipped up my belt and watched the windscreen wipers making short work of the wet slaps of sleet hitting the glass. It reminded me of one of the few trips I’d taken with my parents as a little girl. We’d been to Scotland. Father had gone shooting and Mother and I had stayed in the elegant hotel and read together, swam in the indoor pool, and sampled cakes from the patisserie menu. Each evening he’d come back with fantastical tales of his triumphs and adventures, and I’d hung onto every word, wondering if he might take me with him next time.

  He hadn’t.

  On the way home, back to Juniper Hall, the weather had become unpleasant, but sitting in the back of his high-end Merc I’d enjoyed having my parents together, listening to their gentle conversation and seeing him reach for her hand and kiss her knuckles without taking his eyes from the road. I’d felt complete. Loved. At one with my family. As an only child those feelings had been rare. And after Miriam-bloody-Pennington had slashed a hole in the fabric of their love, those moments had evaporated, drifted away, never to be repeated.

  A dark car, on a dark rainy night, was one of my happiest childhood memories.

  The car I was in now filled with the glow of headlights as we hit the main roads. I peered out, enjoying the majestic architecture—a huge domed church with a clock tower, the dial flanked by elegant figurines, a palatial civil building with ornate arches and a frosty, tree-lined avenue sparkling with Christmas lights. It appeared to be a replica of the Doge Palace in Venice.