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Enticing Ian (Knight Security 5)

Page 12

by Carole Mortimer


  He stood back from the building to look up at the third floor. Not that he could see very much. It wasn’t as if Evie was going to be conveniently standing at one of the windows looking down at him.

  He rang the intercom again. And then again. And again. If he made enough of a nuisance of himself, she would probably answer, if only so she could tell him what she thought of him.

  Except she didn’t.

  Not even when he kept his finger on the intercom buzzer for a full minute.

  She wasn’t answering her cell phone either.

  Which meant she was either totally pissed with him and deliberately wasn’t answering her door or cell phone, or she wasn’t at home and had no access to her cell phone.

  The uneasy feeling in the pit of Ian’s stomach told him it was the latter.

  That she had never returned from Canary Wharf.

  “I don’t appreciate being brought here against my will.” Despite her outwardly confident demeanor, Evie’s knees were trembling as she looked across the width of the desk at the man seated behind it.

  A man she could only assume had the surname Fescaru. Assume, because he hadn’t bothered introducing himself when she’d been brought to him at gunpoint a few minutes ago.

  She had waited only as long as it took Ian and Ethan to become preoccupied in what looked like an intense conversation before ducking out of sight behind one of the warehouses. After that, it was just a question of waiting until the two men had left the area, Ian in his car, Ethan walking off in the direction of the luxury apartment buildings on Canary Wharf.

  There were two small industrial estates in this area, backing onto each other, and after Ian’s comment that the Fescaru warehouse was “somewhere” nearby, Evie had decided if this was the wrong one, then there was a pretty good chance the other one was the right one.

  Which had proven to be the case when, within minutes of her entering the area of what mainly looked to be deserted warehouses, she found herself face-to-face with a man sporting a lot of defined muscles emphasized by the cut of his suit and pointing a gun at her as he gave her a leering smile.

  He hadn’t spoken a word to her as he jerked the gun to the right as indication he wanted her to precede him. Evie’s questions as to who he was and what he wanted with her—as if she didn’t know that already—had gone unanswered.

  He’d brought her up some steps inside one of the warehouses and shown her into the office where this man was seated behind the desk. A swarthy man probably aged in his mid-fifties, slightly overweight, with iron-gray hair brushed back from his face.

  He leaned back in his chair to look at her with cold, dark eyes between narrowed lids. “I was told you came willingly.”

  She nodded. “But only because your man had a gun.” She glanced back to where two men, one the gun-wielding guy from earlier, stood guard beside the door into the office. “I want to speak to my brother,” she added challengingly as she turned back to the older man.

  “Your brother?”

  “Adam Bishop.”

  Something flickered in the man’s dark gaze and then was as quickly masked. “I know no one of that name.”

  Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  Evie knew she hadn’t imagined that brief moment of recognition when she said her brother’s name. “I only want to see him, reassure myself that he’s okay, and then I’ll leave.” She hated the sound of pleading in her voice, but she doubted threats would hold much sway with this man.

  “I told you, I know no one of that name. Now—”

  “I’m not leaving until I’ve spoken to Adam.”

  “There is no one here by that name.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Iron-gray brows rose to his hairline as if this man was unaccustomed to being questioned regarding any statement he might care to make. Which he probably was if he was a Fescaru, Evie conceded with a sickening lurch of her stomach.

  “Nor am I leaving until I’ve spoken to my brother,” she added stubbornly.

  That dark gaze moved to the two men standing beside the door. “Take Miss Bishop to one of the storerooms and see that she stays there. Ensure that you remove her bag and any mobile devices from her pockets too.”

  “You can’t keep me a prisoner here!” Evie protested as the two men moved forward to grasp her arms.

  Those dark eyes looked at her unemotionally. “You are my guest, not my prisoner.”

  Evie struggled against the tight hold the men had of her arms. “In the same way my brother is your guest?”

  “I suggest you not try my patience any further with your ridiculous accusations in regard to a man I have already told you I do not know,” he dismissed in a hard voice.

  The two men began to drag her toward the door. “You won’t get away with this,” she warned. “Someone will come looking for me and—”

  “The same two gentlemen who have now left the area in the belief you had done so too?” he mocked.

  The same two gentlemen Evie had told she didn’t need their protection or help.

  Would either Ian or Ethan bother to check whether or not she had got home safely, or would Ian have finally accepted her dismissal of his protection and left her to her own devices?

  Several hours of being locked in a storeroom and ignored, no matter how many times she banged on the door for attention, gave Evie her answer to that question.

  Ian had finally taken her at her word and given up on her.

  Chapter 12

  “You’re going to wear a hole in the carpet,” Ethan remarked dryly as he sat in a chair observing Ian as he paced the room restlessly.

  Ian ignored him as he kept pacing. It had been over two hours now since he’d gone to Evie’s apartment and discovered she wasn’t there. Two hours of mental torment when all sorts of scenarios had played out in his mind. He liked the one where she had gone shopping the best, but accepted that was more of a fairy tale than realism.

  He knew Evie well enough to know that she had given up too easily earlier this morning. Something he had cursed himself repeatedly for since and should have realized at the time. As Ethan had said, Evie was a ballsy lady. Reckless to the point of stupidity where her brother was concerned, but ballsy nonetheless. All of which meant Ian should have known she wouldn’t have hesitated to continue her search for both the Fescarus and her brother.

  “What are we doing here exactly?” Ethan prompted at Ian’s continued silence.

  Here was Ian’s office at Utopia. As for what they were doing here—

  “I believe you are waiting to see and speak to me.” A tall, dark-haired man entered the room, a familiar blond-haired man following closely behind him. “Mr. Knight.” He nodded briefly in Ian’s direction before looking inquiringly at Ethan.

  “I’m also Mr. Knight. Ian’s cousin Ethan.” The two men shook hands.

  “Gregori Markovic,” the Russian supplied economically. “My associate Nikolai Volkov.”

  It had taken only a single glance at Nikolai’s face for Ian to know the other man was more than a little pissed at having his Sunday disturbed for the second time in a matter of hours. Gregori didn’t look too impressed by it either.

  Which he really couldn’t give a fuck about right now. “Evie went looking for the Fescarus,” he supplied tersely. “As she is now missing, it’s my belief she found them.” His stomach gave that now-familiar and sickening lurch at what might have happened to her in the past two hours.

  His immediate instinct on realizing Evie had disappeared had been to go directly to the Fescaru warehouse and demand to see her. His second had called for more caution. He doubted Fescaru would admit to having Evie, and Ian certainly wouldn’t be helping her if he ended up becoming the Fescarus’ unwilling guest too. Contacting Markovic through Nikolai had seemed the safer option, even if involving them presented its own dangers. Their displeasure toward Ian aside, a turf war between the Romanians and Russians would tear London apart.

  Having considered all the other opt
ions, Ian had decided none of them were viable. After which he had telephoned Nikolai to ask for his help.

  Gregori now observed him through narrowed lids. “Nikolai has explained some of the situation to me on the drive here. My question to you is what do you expect from us in regard to Miss Bishop’s…dilemma?”

  “Who are you?”

  Evie frowned at the question. Having been locked in the store room for the past three hours without water or food or access to a bathroom, her throat was scratchy and sore from shouting out her protest at being imprisoned at all. She had also demanded the use of a bathroom and been granted that small concession when the two bodyguards returned a few minutes ago to escort her to back to this office.

  “I already told you that earlier,” she dismissed. “Perhaps you would now do me the courtesy of telling me who you are?”

  His mouth twisted derisively. “As if you do not know that already!”

  Arrogant bastard. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I have no idea.”

  He looked suitably irritated. “I am Cezar Fescaru.”

  Not just any Fescaru, then, but the top man himself. “Mr. Fescaru.” She nodded. “Can I take it my being brought back to see you means you have decided to release my brother and me?”

  “I am considering it.”

  The relief of knowing Adam was still alive robbed her of breath for several seconds. It was also a vast improvement on Fescaru having earlier denied all knowledge of Adam’s existence. “What is there to consider?” She frowned her puzzlement at this further delay.

  Cezar Fescaru gave a cold smile. “That is the reason I asked who you are.”

  “And I’ve told you I’m Adam Bishop’s sister. I know Adam owes you money, and I assure you I will ensure the debt is repaid.” It was an empty promise at best, but hopefully Fescaru had no idea she didn’t have the money to repay him. Getting Adam away from here was all that mattered for the moment. They could deal later with the problem of how they were going to repay the money her brother owed to people like Fescaru and Markovic.

  “That is all well and good.” He stood up from behind his desk, revealing him as a man of average height but one who nevertheless possessed that air of arrogance his position of power gave him. “But I wish to know what your connection is to the Markovic family.”

  “The…?” Evie gave a puzzled shake of her head. “I don’t have a connection to the Markovic family.”

  Fescaru’s smile lacked any real humor. “Now it is my turn not to believe you.”

  “I assure you I don’t—” She broke off as the office door opened and six men were ushered into the room, followed by two more of Fescaru’s bodyguards.

  The two men who instantly moved forward to flank the tall and harshly handsome man standing at the front of the group were obviously his bodyguards from their muscular physique, black suits, and shoulder holsters. Empty shoulder holsters, Evie noted with dismay, which meant these men had been disarmed before being allowed into Fescaru’s office.

  Ian and Ethan she obviously recognized instantly. As she did Nikolai Volkov. She had never seen the fourth man before, but after her conversation just now with Cezar Fescaru, and the presence of Nikolai Volkov and the bodyguards, she would take a guess on this being Gregori Markovic.

  There was only one way that Evie could think of for the two Russians having become involved in all this.

  What had Ian done?

  What had Evie forced him into doing, with her stubborn determination to seek out Cezar Fescaru and demand Adam’s release?

  Whatever it was, Evie couldn’t read any of Ian’s emotions regarding this situation from his closed expression. His mouth was thinned, his eyes cold and aloof, and he kept his face averted from looking at her directly as he stood slightly behind Gregori and Nikolai. The only reassurance she received came from Ethan, as he gave her a friendly wink.

  “Markovic.”

  “Fescaru.”

  Evie’s attention was instantly riveted to the front of the room as two of the most powerful men of the London underworld come face-to-face. Possibly for the first time? As it was a world Evie had no knowledge of—yes, she freely admitted that now—she had no idea if that was the case.

  Despite the lack of aggression in the two men’s greetings, the tension in the room was palpable.

  Probably because there was too much testosterone in too small a space, Evie acknowledged with a grimace. Whatever the reason, the threat of violence seemed to simmer beneath the surface of their civility. As if a wrong move from either man could and would precipitate a bloodbath.

  A bloodbath, if it happened, Evie would be completely responsible for.

  “Please.” She stepped forward. “I don’t—”

  “Take care of your woman, Knight.” Nikolai barked the order without so much as looking at her as he concentrated his glacial-eyed attention on Cezar Fescaru.

  Before Evie could protest, her arm was taken in a firm grasp and she was pulled to the back of the room.

  Not by Ian but by Ethan.

  “Not a word,” he warned, his lips barely moving.

  She gave a pained frown in Ian’s direction, but all she could see was the tension in his back as he remained facing forward.

  “It has come to my attention you have something of mine,” Gregori Markovic spoke to the other man coldly. “Two somethings, to be exact.”

  “Do I?”

  “Do not play games with me, Cezar.” Markovic’s voice became softer, but the threat remained as an undertone. “Bishop works for me. I want him back. Miss Bishop belongs to one of my men. He wishes for her safe return also.”

  Evie’s eyes widened. “What—” She broke off with a gasp as Ethan’s hand tightened painfully on her arm.

  “Bishop made no mention of your connection when he agreed to work for me,” Fescaru drawled. “Loyalty, it is so hard to find nowadays, would you not agree?”

  “No,” the Russian bit out. “Now if you would return my property to me? I am to accompany my wife and son on a visit with friends this evening.” In just a few words and the contempt in his tone, Markovic managed to imply he didn’t consider Fescaru in that category, nor would he ever allow this man anywhere near his wife and son.

  Fescaru looked unperturbed by the insult. “It is customary to make an exchange in such circumstances.”

  “In your country, perhaps,” Gregori allowed. “But this is not your country or your city. It is mine. We have an agreement, do we not?” he challenged coldly.

  Fescaru looked a little less sure of himself. “We do.”

  “The penalty, if your business interests ever infringe upon mine, is the expulsion of you and your men from my city.”

  “Yes.”

  The Russian nodded. “You are seriously in danger of stepping over that line in regard to both Mr. and Miss Bishop.”

  Fescaru looked a lot less sure of himself now. “I assure you it was not done intentionally.”

  Gregori nodded abruptly. “I am willing to overlook it this time, if that is the case.”

  “Marku, you will bring Mr. Bishop to my office immediately.” Fescaru issued the order, and one of his bodyguards instantly left the room. “Exactly what is Mr. Bishop’s role in your organization?”

  Gregori looked down the length of his arrogant nose at the Romanian. “I do not consider that to be any of your business. Any more,” he added softly as the other man bristled resentfully, “than it is my business what you use the warehouse in Brixton for. But I could make it so, if that is what you wish.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” the older man assured hastily.

  “I thought not.” Gregori gave a hard smile.

  Ian wasn’t sure if the room had become hotter or if it was his own body heat that had deepened. Either way, he could feel the beads of sweat on his forehead as these two men wielded their threats beneath a veneer of politeness that would crack open into a maelstrom of violence if one or both of them chose to issue the order for it to do so.
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  Fescaru and his bodyguards were seriously outnumbered, of course, but all the Markovic weapons had been removed before they were allowed into Fescaru’s office. The Romanian was also known for being hotheaded where his pride was concerned, and at the moment, Gregori was enjoying himself a little too much at the older man’s expense.

  As for Evie…

  Ian’s heart had stopped beating the moment he walked into the room and saw her standing there, completely unharmed, thank God. Physically, at least. The flush in her cheeks and the glitter in her eyes said that her temper hadn’t fared as well.

  Would she never learn, never listen to him, when he told her these men were seriously dangerous to be around? That she didn’t have the luxury of losing her temper with either Fescaru or Gregori?

  Well, if she hadn’t, Ian intended making that very clear to her, and sooner rather than later.

  “Cezar, what—Evie…?” Adam Bishop came to a halt in the doorway the moment he saw his sister.

  There was no concern in his expression for the fact his sister was standing in a room with two of the most powerful men in the London underworld, and that at least four of the men with them were armed.

  “Adam!” Evie ran across the room to launch herself into her twin’s arms. “Oh God, Adam!” Tears of relief cascaded down her cheeks as she held on to him tightly.

  “What on earth are you doing here, Evie?” Adam managed to extricate himself before holding her at arm’s length. He was obviously uncomfortable with his sister’s show of affection in front of so many other man.

  Ian knew the exact moment the selfish little shit spotted and recognized Nikolai, because his eyes widened and his face paled slightly. Adam’s wariness deepened as he looked at Gregori Markovic, and then there was another widening of his eyes as he belatedly recognized Ian.

  He quickly turned away from Ian’s narrow-eyed condemnation. “What’s going on?”

  “We are leaving now, Cezar, and taking Adam and Miss Bishop with us,” Gregori informed the older man. “But understand this,” he added icily. “I will not be so reasonable if anything like this happens again.”

 

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