He turned, running his hands down my shoulders and giving me a long look. His eyes were clear if slightly troubled, buthe’d been looking more and more tense the last few days, same as me.
“It would be ungrateful not to make a quick appearance,” he said. “And it’s never a bad idea to stay on the good side of a family like the Morozovs.”
Arguing would be futile. Accusations would only piss him off and shut him down. He got dressed and left in the borrowed sports car, with more promises that he wouldn’t be long and that he was counting the minutes until we could fire up a movie when he got back.
“It’ll be too late,” I pouted.
He leaned down to kiss my puckered mouth. “Take a nap,” he suggested with a mischievous grin. So maybe everything was fine, and I was being paranoid once again.
But as I followed him down to wave goodbye from the front porch, he got another one of his phone calls, and didn’t glance back at me as he answered it with a stormy look.
After a long moment of staring at the space where he’d been, I turned and went inside, alone.
Fresh cookies that were delivered that afternoon sat in their box on the kitchen counter, along with tempting mangoes and papayas in a wooden bowl. I pulled out a plate and a knife to slice some of the fruit, but since it wasn’t hunger gnawing at my stomach, I put them away.
It was dark outside, but I could still hear the lap of the waves when I plopped down on a deck chair, sinking into the thick cushions. A nap might be a good idea, and the humid breezes started lulling me into a more relaxed state.
A clunk and a muttered curse at the bottom of the deck had me jerking awake, on high alert. The only thing close tohand that could be remotely used as a weapon was a Frisbee, but I grabbed it anyway.
“Sorry,” a deep voice said from the darkness below me. A familiar head popped up over the edge of the deck. The guard was one of only four on duty at the mansion, and he usually did a good job of staying out of sight. “I got caught on the hose nozzle.”
I laughed a little, a release of the sudden tension, and also because that had happened to me just that morning. “It’s not in a very good spot,” I said.
“Considering everything else about this place is just about perfect, I guess I can’t complain about one stubbed toe.”
This was the most any of the guards had spoken to me in the last several days combined. This man was only a little older than me, with a sharp buzz cut and a beefy but friendly face. I didn’t recognize him from the LA crew, but there were so many of them, and after I attacked one of their own, they avoided me like the plague.
“Are you going to be okay?” I asked, somewhat sarcastically.
He smirked and took a few steps, pretending to limp. “I don’t know. It may be broken.”
I leaned forward. Was he pretending? “Do you really think so? Can someone on your team take you to the emergency room?”
He laughed and walked back toward the deck without any trace of a limp. “Sorry, just teasing you. It’s fine.”
We were only separated by the wooden slats of the deck, but since he was on the sand several feet below, it felt safe to keep talking to him. I was bored and a little angry at Gavril for leaving me behind. But still, this guard had a job to do.
“Well, I’m glad it’s okay,” I said, with a tone of dismissal.
“Sorry to disturb you,” he answered, but stayed where he was, looking up at me through the dim light shining from the house. “And sorry you have to spend the evening alone.”
I leaned back at the sudden, unmistakable flirtatiousness of that brazen statement. Didn’t he know that could get him killed? I stared at him, the new part of me that had been awakening wanted to keep chatting, but not at the expense of this guy’s life. Was he a fool just wasting some time in his long shift, or did he harbor a secret crush on me?
Could I use that to my advantage? And did I want to?
It had been so long since I thought about my escape plan that it was almost like I never had one at all. A long silence stretched between us, and he still didn’t leave.
“I know you offered the guard in LA a bribe,” he said finally, so low his voice almost got carried away on the breeze.
So I could pretend I didn’t hear…
“Do you also know I stabbed him?” I snapped. What was he up to?
He shrugged, finally holding out his hand. “Only because he didn’t take you up on your offer. I’m Reuben.”
Not Russian. Maybe not even a real guard. “How long have you worked for Mr. Bocharov?” I asked icily.
“A long time. He’s a cool guy. But I’m a betting man.”
