Grinkov’s spoon stopped midway to his mouth. “You refuse me?” he asked, a dangerous undertone in his voice.
“Yes,” I said, without flinching.
Grinkov set down his spoon and his hands rested beside his soup, clenching and unclenching. I knew he was waiting for me to elaborate, but I wasn’t about to, especially given Frost’s warning. I also knew that I couldn’t make something else up because I knew that Grinkov would check it out and then Dutch and I would be toast.
My host inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly and said, “You must give me a detail to confirm that you and Richard are partners.”
“Fine,” I said, reaching down to pick up my attaché. Being careful not to bump my soup, I opened it and took out ten packs of Canadian one-hundred-dollar bills. “There’s the hundred grand I promised you as a down payment for Mr. Des Vries’s debts,” I said. “That should be proof enough.”
Grinkov did not even look at the money; instead he continued to eye me in frustration. “Very well,” he said at last, his tone a bit icy now. “But we must discuss the arrangement of the other four hundred and fifty thousand.”
This time I couldn’t help it—I let out a gasp. “He only owes you four hundred thousand more, Mr. Grinkov.”
Grinkov smiled. He liked that he’d finally pushed one of my buttons. “Interest,” he said by way of explanation. “And please, call me Maks.”
Again I had to work hard to rein in my emotions, but I managed. “I would like to see Rick to make sure he’s all right.”
William appeared at my side to take my soup bowl, and Grinkov waited until his butler had replaced the dish with pan-braised trout and succulent-looking vegetables before he said, “We will eat a little first.”
I had no choice; I had to sit there and pick at my food, waiting for Grinkov to give the okay to let me see Dutch. It wasn’t until William came in again to refill his rocks glass that Maks finally made a small hand gesture to his butler, who nodded and left us alone.
As Grinkov was finishing his final bite of trout, the butler returned with a computer tablet. Grinkov took it from him and flipped the screen on, swiveling it around to show me. The image on the monitor revealed Dutch, sitting down and leaning heavily against the wall in a small room with no furniture. His shirt was torn and stained at the collar with blood, and I could see he’d been badly beaten.
I forced myself to take a slow steady breath, pushing down the fury the image inspired. “How do I know he’s alive?” I asked.
Grinkov calmly removed his cell from his pocket and made a call. He spoke in Russian and while I watched, someone entered the room, causing Dutch to pick his head up slightly. The man looked up at the monitor with a sick smile and kicked Dutch, who reacted by lunging at the assailant and wrapping his arms around the thug’s leg, trying to wrestle him to the ground. Another man ran in and shoved Dutch off his partner’s leg, punching my fiancé in the head for good measure before both thugs departed.
It took everything I had, and I do mean everything, not to burst into tears and stab Grinkov with my fork. But none of those actions would help Dutch, so I dipped my chin and took a deep breath once. Twice. Three times, waiting for the panic, fear, rage, and gut-wrenching heartache to pass. It didn’t, but I managed to get beyond it—at least temporarily.
“Motherfuckers,” I heard in my ear. Frost had seen the image on the monitor and it was the first time I’d heard from him since I’d entered the home. His voice in my ear reminded me that I wasn’t completely alone in all this. That, more than anything, helped me focus and come up with a plan.
“You’ve beaten him,” I said, my voice hollow and cold.
Grinkov was again watching me intently. “Richard knew there would be consequences for nonpayment.”
“Easy, Cooper,” Frost whispered.
“He requires medical attention,” I said.
“You may take him to the hospital the moment I receive all that is owed to me,” Grinkov said in a tone that didn’t allow for argument. “Besides,” he added, his mouth turned down in disgust, “Richard has given far worse beatings to his women—or hadn’t you heard about that?”
I swallowed hard again. “I’ve heard.”
Grinkov eyed me with steely eyes. “And yet you and he are friends.”
The statement was more a question and I knew I had to offer up some sort of explanation, so I said, “Richard is not my friend; he is my business partner. Even though we connected under intimate circumstances, we no longer have that kind of relationship, and Richard knows that if he ever laid a hand on me, I’d kill him dead.”
Grinkov appeared to take that in. “Well, at least you have some sense,” he said to me. “But you will forgive me if I do not pity Richard’s little accident today. I saw a girl he’d gotten cross with once, and I can assure you, her physical condition was much worse.”
I tried to remember that Grinkov fully believed Dutch was Richard Des Vries, and that it was obvious the former mobster didn’t especially advocate violence against women, and he’d maybe ordered his boys to be a little rougher with Dutch because of it, but now I knew what was in store for my fiancé if I didn’t get him out of there tonight, and it chilled me to the bone. My ankle tapped against the attaché at my feet, where I’d replaced the money before we’d been served our final courses. “Let me ask you something, Mr. Grinkov—”
“Maks,” he corrected.
I forced a smile and leaned in to look him in the eye. “Maks, I wonder if you and I might find a way to settle Rick’s debt tonight?”
Grinkov laughed and reached out to stroke my wrist seductively. “I have had many high-priced whores in my day, Abigail, but never one that cost four hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
I lifted my hand away from Grinkov, only slightly insulted. “You misunderstand,” I said to him. “I’m not offering you my body. I’m offering you an opportunity to double your money.”
Grinkov cocked one eyebrow at me. “What did you have in mind?”
“Poker.”
Eddington came to the table again and lifted away my plate, loading it onto his cart. I tried not to imagine how much Dutch might be suffering while I dined on a gourmet meal and offered to play cards with his captor.
“So, you enjoy gambling as much as your business partner, then, eh?” Grinkov asked. To my relief, I could tell he was intrigued.
“I do. That’s how he and I cemented our partnership, actually. I kicked his ass in a high-stakes poker game about a year ago. He’d put up half the ownership of his import/export business in the match, and he lost.”
Grinkov pursed his lips. “You believe yourself to be a skillful player, then?”
I gave him a sideways smile. “Oh, I know I’m good. The question in front of me is, are you?”
“Nice,” Frost whispered.
Grinkov circled his finger around the rim of his rocks glass and considered me with those smokin’ hazel eyes. “Oh, Abigail, I am good,” he assured me, and I knew he wasn’t just talking about his gambling abilities, but I also knew I had a chance. “What are the terms you’re proposing?”
I reached again for my attaché and pulled out the first hundred thousand plus another ten bundles of cash, which was all the money Milo had wired me. “Texas hold ’em. Ten grand minimum. We play until either Rick’s debt is clear, or I’ve run out of money.”
Grinkov tapped his finger thoughtfully on the table. Frost whispered, “Come on, you son of a bitch, take the bait.”
Finally, Grinkov sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t think that is all you can offer me,” he said.
Uh-oh. I lifted the attaché and showed him the empty interior. “As I said, this is all the money I was able to liquidate on such short notice. I won’t be able to bring more until Monday, when the banks open again.”
“Yes,” he said smoothly, his eyes again boring into mine. “And yet, you have come here with another currency, Abigail. One I find I quite desire.”
Gu
lp. I had to resist the urge to look away, and stare steadily into those eyes. “You want me to sleep with you?”
“Yes.”
My breath quickened and my pulse raced and something inside of me unexpectedly stirred . . . and I hated myself for it. Still, I did nothing to hide my reaction because, again, I knew I could use it to my advantage. “All right. If I lose, then you may keep all my money; Rick will still owe you the four fifty, and tonight, I will rock your world.”
“Not just tonight,” he corrected, leaning in to hold my hand, lifting it to kiss the inside of my wrist. “You will stay with me until Monday morning when I will escort you to the bank.”
I swallowed hard, forced a smile, and reached out to stroke the side of his face. “Assuming you’ll have the strength come Monday, right, Maks?”
Maks’s pupils dilated so far his eyes were all but black. “Yes,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss me.
I pulled away and shook my head. “Business first,” I cautioned. “Pleasure second.”
Grinkov laughed long and low. “Very well,” he said. “I will have William bring the cards and the chips.”
Before Grinkov could call for his butler, however, I put my hand on his arm. “I’d like you to speak to the two men guarding Rick, first. I’d like you to tell them not to lay another finger on him until our game is finished.”
Grinkov’s brow rose. “Oh?” he said, and he clearly didn’t look pleased that I’d made such a request.
I was quick to explain, lest he change his mind about our terms. “I need to make sure Rick lives long enough for me to collect him. He’s no good to me dead, Maks.”
“I see,” he said, but he still seemed suspicious. “I don’t give up something for nothing, Abigail.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” I said, praying that Dutch could forgive me someday, and I leaned forward, grabbed Grinkov by the back of the head, and kissed him passionately.
I wanted to feel nothing but disgust and distaste, but the truth was, there was an intense chemistry between us that sparked when our lips touched, and the kiss sealed it. After a long, lingering moment I pulled my lips away, but our foreheads remained touching. My breath was coming quickly and those home fires were burning. Jesus! What was wrong with me?
Grinkov lifted his phone to his ear and gave the order for his men to lay off their prisoner. Then he cupped my face and kissed me again, and I knew I was going to hell.
Chapter Six
“Cooper!” Frost barked into my ear. My eyes flew open and just like that, the spell was broken. I backed away from Grinkov and straightened out my blouse. “Are you ready to play?” I asked him.
He chuckled and called to his butler. William appeared and cleared away all our remaining dishes. A minute or two later, he and his cart returned loaded with a snifter of brandy for Grinkov and some coffee for me. Once he’d set those down, he limped off again, only to return with an attaché, which he opened facing Grinkov.
Maks reached over and took all the money I’d laid on the table, exchanging my two hundred thousand for one hundred thousand in chips.
William then proceeded to deal out five cards facedown on the table between Grinkov and me, then two each to us. I peeked at my first two cards, praying for something good. I had a pair of tens. “Thank you, God,” I heard Frost whisper.
I threw a stack of thousand-dollar chips into the middle of the space between us. “Ten thousand,” I said.
“Call,” said Grinkov. Cool, he was matching my bet.
William then turned over three of the five cards in the center of the table. One of those was a ten. I threw in another stack of thousands. “Ten more,” I said.
Grinkov eyed the cards in the center and I could detect the slightest smile on his face, but I could also sense something else. It wasn’t exactly the liar, liar, pants on fire message I normally got when someone wasn’t telling me the truth, but I could see the bluff forming in his energy. “Raise,” he said. “Your ten plus twenty more.”
I threw in another twenty without hesitation.
Eddington then turned over the fourth card. It was a jack.
Before placing my next bet, I scanned Grinkov’s energy. His luck hadn’t improved. “Ten more,” I said, tossing in one of my last stacks.
“Call,” said Grinkov.
William turned over the final card. It was a ten. “Cooper,” Frost whispered. “Turn your head. I can’t see the last card.”
I turned my chin a little and heard him whistle appreciatively. “You are one lucky woman,” he said.
William cleared his throat. “It’s your bet, miss.”
I eyed my remaining stacks of cash. Should I toss it all in? What if I was wrong and Grinkov pulled out the winning hand? I’d need as much of what I had left to finish the rounds of betting. I decided to play a little conservatively, and tossed in one thousand-dollar chip, hoping Grinkov wouldn’t try to raise the bet.
He tapped his finger on the table, noticing the change in confidence, but he didn’t pounce, probably because he had a crappy hand. “Call,” he said.
We both laid our hands down at the same time. He had a pair of twos, and there was one more in the middle of the table, which was no match for my four of a kind. I reached out and collected my winnings and Frost said, “Good job, Cooper. A few more hands like that and we’ll be home free.”
The night of gambling was not as smooth as I’d hoped. My sixth sense definitely gave me an advantage over Grinkov, but he was one heck of a good poker player and at one point he had me down to my last twenty thousand. Still, I managed to rally, and by three a.m. I had completely cleared Des Vries’s debt and had an extra one hundred and fifty grand to spare. That worked out okay for me, as I figured Dutch could bill the CIA and probably get back the fifty grand I’d had to leave with Grinkov.
“I told you I was good,” I said to Maks after the final hand and he called for his men to bring out Des Vries and load him in my car.
I was a bit anxious when Maks shut off the monitor, and he must have noticed the change in my expression because he said, “My men will not injure him further. The debt is paid and we are in good standing again.”
I had to admit, his consideration puzzled me. I wanted to believe he was a real SOB, but he’d actually proved that he was something of a gentleman by honoring our agreement, and further, when it became clear that I could hold my own at the poker table, he’d called for a break in the game, and told William to administer some attention to Des Vries. William had bowed to us and left the room, and Maks had turned the monitor around to allow me to watch as William went into Dutch’s room, offered him water, some pain pills, a wet cloth, and a pack of ice for his face.
Grinkov had even left the monitor on, so that I could periodically look up from my cards to see how Dutch was doing, and I was encouraged that although Dutch looked far worse for wear, at least he was conscious enough to keep the ice pack on his face. Around one a.m. I saw that he even nodded off.
“I would like to see you again,” Grinkov said, catching my wrist, as Dutch was being carried out to my car. “I would like to take you out for dinner, Abigail.”
“Negative!” Frost barked.
I watched as Grinkov’s two thugs eased my fiancé into the backseat of my car. There was no way I was breaking out of character this close to our escape. “Perhaps,” I said to Grinkov. “I had a better time with you than I expected, Maks.”
Grinkov wrapped his arms around my middle and pulled me close to him, giving me that long smoldering look again. “Stay the night,” he whispered.
“Cooper! Get out of there!”
I inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “I’m tired, Maks,” I said. “And I’ve still got to get Rick home and make sure he’s okay.”
Maks eyed Dutch contemptuously. “You know that Richard is a violent man, Abigail. What I don’t understand is, why would you associate with such a man?”
His question surprised me, and I had to think fast. “Since we
established our partnership, Rick has always been completely professional with me. What he does in his personal life is none of my concern.”
“Unless there are gambling debts to pay,” Maks said.
I smiled coyly. “Yes,” I agreed. “But I hardly minded helping my partner out tonight, especially when the evening proved so entertaining.”
“Then stay with me,” Maks said again, squeezing his arms around me.
I cupped his face and stroked his temples. He had smooth skin and his cologne smelled amazing. “Some other time,” I promised, then kissed him lightly and pulled out of his grasp. I was stunned when the gentle but firm ploy worked and he let me go.
I wasted no more time and got into the car, started it up, and drove away with only a small wave. As I approached the gates at the end of the drive, I had to will myself not to punch the gas. I wanted out of there so bad I was shaking.
The guard inside didn’t open the gates, though; instead he came out of the little guard booth and held his hand up for me to stop. “Why’s he stopping you?” Frost asked.
“I don’t know,” I whispered anxiously.
Again I considered gunning it, but the gates looked very strong and I wasn’t sure I could crash through them and hold it together long enough to get us out of there, so I braked and waited for the guard to approach my window. “I’d like to leave,” I told him a bit snappishly.
He scowled at me. “You want this back?” he asked, holding up my cell.
I felt a flood of relief and held my hand out for the phone. “Yes, thank you. Sorry I snapped, it’s just been a very long evening and I need to get my associate home.”
The guard was still glaring at me, but gave me the phone and said nothing more. Instead he turned and went back into the guardhouse and a moment later the gates began to open. I tapped the steering wheel with my thumb, mumbling, “Come on, come on, come on!”
When at last they were open enough to let me through, I pressed on the gas and sped out of there, and I didn’t even care if the guard thought that suspicious.
I drove very fast for several miles, but I was soon shaking and crying so hard that I had to pull over. “Cooper?” Frost asked into my ear when I’d put the car into park and bent over the steering wheel to sob.
Vision Impossible Page 12