Raphael sipped his tea, which was as strong as many martinis. “I’m working on some things at the bank.”
“Good. Nice that you have a career.”
He whispered into her hair. “Give me a few weeks.”
“Where on Earth could we go that is safe from Pierre and his Secret Serviceandthe Swiss banker mafia?”
And a Russian bratva,but he didn’t tell her that. “I’ll have us out of here soon.”
Flicka grumbled, “I’ll be an alcoholic from your mother’s tea soon.”
He hugged her more closely to his side.
She said, “Oh, who are we kidding? If I’m not already a lush from hanging out with my Le Rosey friends and Pierre, nothing’s going to convert me.”
Raphael slid down thecouch, slouching a little. Alina crawled up on his other side and laid her head on his chest.
Deep contentment settled over him, and he held the two girls that he loved more than his own life and honor to his chest.
He might have dozed for a few minutes.
Afterward, Raphael did find the asshole who had grabbed Flicka, who had not gone home but was on duty outside the house in the back garden.Raphael informed him with the roughest barracks language he could muster that it would be inadvisable to so much as tap Flicka on the shoulder ever again.
He might have had his forearm across the guy’s windpipe and had him shoved up against a brick wall, glaring down at the guy who thought it was a good idea to manhandle a woman.
Raphael was positive, however, that the guard recognized his militarytraining and understood that another mishap would not be tolerated.
He left the guy with some sore ribs and rubbing this throat.
