“All good.” Brows creased, my warrior searches my face and frowns more deeply than before. “You can still back out, firefly. You don’t have to do this.”
But I do.Egonov will set off his bomb if I don’t steal the e-wallet.“I’m fine. I just need a moment.”
Spying an open bathroom, I race inside, lock myself in, and count to ten. When my hands stop shaking, I freshen my makeup and comb the knots from my hair.
Hurriedly, I snap my purse shut, while Suds’ voice sing-songs in my ear. “Hail, hail, the gangs all here.”
Thank God. He and Slate made it onto the yacht.I can do this.Muttering other positive affirmations under my breath, I tuck in my abs, tug the spandex over my butt cheeks, and exit the lavatory. On the outside deck, Alistair takes my elbow and leads me past the pool to the bar by the hot tub.
The bartender glances down my low-cut dress. “What’ll you have?”
“Champagne.” While I wait for my drink, I tap my long red nails on the bar, and assess my surroundings.
On the main deck, diamond clad wives cling to their husbands. The girls from the brothel play naked in the water, some engaged in sex. The next level up contains a helipad but instead of a copter, partiers gather around a buffet topped by an ice sculpture of Venus in a clam shell.
Dash leans against a railing at the bottom of the main stairway. To anyone else, he would seem bored but behind those dark sunglasses, I’m sure he doesn’t miss a thing.
Someone taps me on the shoulder and thinking it’s Alistair, I swivel, but Dash’s dad is gone, his seat now occupied by Alexei. He rolls a hundred-dollar bill, snorts a line of white powder from a mirror, then hands the rolled paper to me.
“Thank you, but no. The sex is better with champagne.” I lift my glass and as I take a sip, he nods his approval.
“Your innocence is… how do you say? A turn on?” His flirtation stops when shouting starts on the deck above.
Balabanov curses and barks a command in Russian. Thinking he’s speaking to one of his many bodyguards, I don’t bother to turn until I hear a familiar voice.
“Hello, Lanita. Glad you could make it.” Egonov’s grin causes an awful chill to run down my spine. His English contains no sign of an accent, and he sports a full head of thick, black hair.
Why is he here and what’s up with his disguise?
Chapter 17
Dash
While I keep one eye on Lanita, Suds and Slate change to formal attire in the bathroom down the hall. Everything is going according to plan. So why am I so edgy?
The reason becomes clear when Egonov slithers up to my woman, standing alone in her sexy red spandex dress at the bar. He grabs her bare arm and leads her to the stairs where I stand. The floor above contains the yacht’s private quarters. My fists clenched, I follow them up the steps until one of the general’s goons jumps in front of me.
I’m about to render him unconscious when the terrorist barks out, “Otpusti yego.”
Commanded to let go, the man steps back and allows me to trot to their level.
“What the bloody hell is wrong with you, mate? We’re doing what you asked. Your interference is cocking up everything.” I swear to God if he doesn’t let go of her, I will toss him over the railing, bomb be damned.
“Calm down. I’m a big help, no? I bring her to Alexei for you.” He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, then he studies the inner section more closely.
Suddenly, his face turns red, his brows crease, and he curses. “Stupid bitch. You think he won’t notice? Take it out.”
As Landy removes the comm unit, he points his index finger at me. “You stay here or bomb explodes.”
Cursing, I wait for them to disappear before speaking in the mic taped to my chest. “The bird is about to enter the cage.”
The team will have her back. The rest is up to my Marine magnet.
Chapter 18
Landy
Alone in General Balabanov’s room, I sit at the small desk and click my fingernails on the shiny wood. When he enters a couple minutes later, he says something to me in Italian to which I respond by shaking my head back and forth.
