Apropos secrets. Nina’s voice tugged at something in my memory again. I’d sworn I’d heard it before. It was the same sensation I’d had this afternoon when I met her for the first time. But that was impossible. When would I ever have crossed paths with Nina Zotov?
The Zotovs, from what I’ve overheard Vince and Matt talking, operated primarily in Europe, while my family’s territory was firmly on American soil. Did I meet her on one of our vacations in Italy? Because something about her presence felt familiar, like a hidden memory from the past, tucked away in some corner of my mind.
I waited until they disappeared around the corner before I wiped away the sweat running down my forehead whichstung my eyes. Where was this place? And what was up with this crazy heat? From the flora and the architecture, I would say it was Mediterranean. But I had no idea where this island was exactly. And couldn’t there be at least a little bit of a breeze on this damn island?
I headed in the opposite direction from where the Zotovs disappeared, circled around, and ended up near the pool area. From what I’d spotted earlier this afternoon, the pool itself wasn’t under surveillance, and there was a genuine blind spot in the security coverage behind the pool. The cameras were positioned to catch anyone entering or exiting the pool area, but there was a small section near what looked like an equipment shed that seemed to fall into shadow.
My fingers itched to test that theory, but was it worth the risk?
Trying to get into one of the buildings and finding a computer would be more beneficial. But since the compound’s security was tight, their computer systems would probably be professional-grade, as well. I’d hacked into high-level corporate systems before, so with the right equipment and enough time, I would probably be able to do so.
Neither of which I had at my disposal right now. And one wrong move, and I’d alert everyone to my presence.
Still, who exactly was Grey? Who was he working for? Why did he have Zotov bring us here? And what was the Zotov family’s plan?
I needed answers, and I wasn’t going to get them sitting in that room playing the docile prisoner.
I wiped at the sweat on my forehead again. And that damn heat did not help me think at all.
I circled the building, then slipped into the pool area without triggering anything. The cameras were exactly where I remembered them, and with my bare feet, I moved in complete silence on the smooth tiles.
Until there were multiple voices approaching.
Shit. I looked around. No matter where I went, it would trigger the cameras. The water looked serene, gleaming black and silver under the moonlight. No cameras there. I would need to be careful not to get my head wound wet, though, and getting into the water would make some noise. But the water was my best chance to stay hidden.
Ah, what the hell.
I looked down at myself, and before I could overthink it, I peeled off the tank top and shorts—courtesy of Mila Zotov—and hid them in a heap beneath a lounge chair by the pool’s edge. I slipped into the water as slow as I could with barely a splash, bare-ass naked.
When was the last time I’d done something this stupid?
At least if someone caught me, I could just pretend I was going for a night swim because I couldn’t sleep—something that was a lot harder to sell if I were fully clothed.
The coolness enveloped me, washing away the sticky heat and tension. For a moment, I felt weightless, free. Just me and the water and the stars above.
I held myself as close to the wall as possible and listened. What I wouldn’t give for a couple of strenuous laps, but serious swimming would be too noisy.
I listened to my heart beating fast. The voices seemed to be getting farther away now.
I exhaled, then stared up into the sky. The moon painted everything in silver and shadow. The water lapped gently against the pool’s edge where I hid, creating a peaceful rhythm that helped me calm down.
Almost.
Until footsteps approached the pool area and burst my little bubble of peace. My heart jumped into my throat. Shit.
There wasn’t enough time to do anything but again press myself against the wall and into the shadow.
But this time, I didn’t have as much luck.
Because a tall figure appeared at the pool’s edge right above me.What the fuck?
Of all the possibilities, it had to be Ivan Zotov. Backlit like a Greek god in a white shirt and swimming trunks that housed a sizeable bulge and hugged his muscular thighs like nobody’s business.
Merda.
I looked up and stared at him, and he stared at me, both of us like two prize fighters sizing each other up.
I couldn’t stay in the water forever, and he showed no signs of leaving…or talking.
