There must be a hundred tally marks on his right. A hundred. He must be an executioner for the MacTavish Mafia, my sunny-natured husband. I’m grateful to see less than twenty on his left. I try to count them silently, and he pulls his hand away.
“Losing Ferr and ten soldiers… it was the worst moment of my life,” he says. “Afterward, I was stupid, I took too many risks, trying to make Stepanov pay. Cormac and Dougal had to hold me down one night and beat the shite out of me before I’d listen to reason.”
“Was I part of this new plan?”
“You were,” he said, water beading against his skin and sticking his unreasonably thick eyelashes together.
“Would you really have stuck that needle in my eye?” I ask.
Rolling his eyes, he kisses me, hard. “What do you think, wife?”
“You were very convincing at the time,” I mumble.
Kissing down my neck, he chuckles. “Good to know.”
“So, how was it?”
Since all I’ve been thinking about is the sex marathon Cameron and I had in Dublin, I choke a bit at Mala’s question.
“Um, his jet had a problem and we were stranded on the runway for three hours and there was a freak lightning storm as we were trying to land in Edinburgh, but other than that, it was pretty good,” I mumble.
“Uh, huh,” she says, her amusement clear. “Doesn’t Cameron’s jet have a bedroom in the back?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I take another bite of my salmon, avoiding her entertained gaze.
“Nothing. So how was dinner with Nolan O’Rourke?”
“Much less fun than this one,” I sigh, “he enjoyed mocking me about my family. As if I’m not ashamed enough.”
“Hey,” she points her fork at me. “If anyone understands being ashamed of their family, it’s me. But you have a new family now, one to be proud of. I know you had a rough start, and I’m sorry I couldn’t make it easier on you. Thereissomething here to build on, something you can be proud of.”
The oceanside restaurant we’re eating at is weathered and beautiful, just like the shore. The rare Edinburgh sun is out and warm on my shoulders. Both Natalia and Mala’s personal security are seated at the table just behind us, clearly bored with their work.
My life has been so regimented until now, and I used to think about casual lunches out with friends as something unattainable, that only normal people got to do. No one at University who knew about my background wanted anything to do with me, and the other Bratva princesses were deadly. I approached each social event with them like walking a tightrope over a pit of vipers.
“Oh!” Mala continues, “Cameron asked me if I could train with you.”
“Really?” I brighten up. “He’s been sparring with me but he’s been out of town so much that my progress is pitiful. You were some kind of a super spy at the Ares Academy, weren’t you? I’m warning you, I know maybe three moves. You could probably kill me without getting out of your chair.”
“Oh, honey,” laughs Mala, “we’re going to have so much fun. Learning to fight like a woman is much easier than learning how to fight like a man. They don’t get it. You’ll see what I mean.”
I tilt my face up to the sun and smile. A fresh start. A sister-in-law. Finally, a sense of purpose.
Chapter Twenty-Six
In which we – awkwardly – Meet the Family.
Morana…
“You’re tensing up,” Cameron glances over at me. “Stop tensing.”
“I can’t stop tensing!” I shift in my seat, too anxious to appreciate the perfection of the vintage Jaguar my husband is driving. For once, the car started up perfectly, purring like a kitten. I guess even my grim Russian karmic misfortune is no match for a 1961 E-Type Roadster in forest green.
Cameron attempted to distract me from my rising anxiety by telling me all the features of his most treasured car. All I knew was that this beautiful thing took every turn in the winding road to his parent’s estate like it was made for this moment. The purr of the engine, the wind tearing through my hair was almost enough to keep me from panicking about meeting his family.
“Did you drive the Jaguar today to distract me?” I demanded.
“Is it working?”
