Page 85

His arms tightened around me.

I didn’t tell him to calm down. I didn’t promise him that nothing would happen, because both of us knew better than to make promises like that. I simply stayed beneath his hands while his breathing slowly changed, each breath becoming less like a man outrunning fire and more like a man standing in a locked office with a living woman in his arms.

For several quiet minutes, Sergei didn’t have to be ‘The Shield.’

He only had to let me hold him upright.

CHAPTER 19

Sergei

Dmitry disappeared twelve minutes after leaving the gallery.

The grey sedan carrying him remained visible long enough to cross the Public Garden and enter a private garage beneath a building. Our teams covered both exits, but he had apparently prepared for that. Two identical black SUVs emerged less than two minutes later, each wearing clean plates and darkened windows. One moved toward the highway. The other turned for the harbor. Our men followed both and found neither Dmitry nor the original sedan.

I remained inside Aleksei’s private office with Alessia against my chest, the fundraiser continuing beyond the closed door. Music drifted through the wall. Glasses clinked. Someone laughed too loudly in the corridor.

“Go home, Sergei. You’re holding Alessia like the building is a sinking ship. I can see you on the camera,” Ivan said through my earpiece.

Her head lifted from my chest. She must have heard him. A faint smile touched her lips, though her eyes remained tired.

“Ivan…”

“I’m ending the call now,” he said wisely.

Alessia looked toward the earpiece. Her hands moved slowly down my sides before she stepped back.

“Do you want to leave?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you need to say goodbye to anyone?”

“No.”

“Then let’s go.”

The return to Beacon Hill took eighteen minutes and two vehicle changes. Alessia didn’t complain when we transferred inside a secured garage or when the final driver circled the block three times before approaching the townhouse. She sat beside me with one hand resting lightly at her throat and watched Boston pass beyond the darkened windows.

At the townhouse, I checked the entryway before allowing her through the second door. She removed her coat and draped it over the back of the dining chair. I crossed to the study long enough to secure my weapon inside the locked cabinet, then returned to her.

“Food,” I said. “A bath. Solitude? Or my company?”

Her hazel eyes searched mine. “Those are my choices?”

“You may add another.”

“What do you want?”

“What I want isn’t the same as what you need right now,” I replied.

“No.” She crossed the distance between us. “Tonight, it is.”

My hand began to rise toward her face, but Alessia caught my wrist within her fingers.

“First, we talk.”

“All right,” I said.