Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 145729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Good to know. Sonia’s been feeling me out, trying to set up a barbecue with Molly and Bastien. I’ve managed to put it off, but sooner or later, I’ll have to say yes.”
It was Drake’s turn to swear. He did it so rarely that it shocked Joshua. “I can handle this,” he assured again.
“I put you there,” Drake said.
“I could have said no,” Joshua pointed out. “I’ve got Evan and the others. They’re good men. It’s going to be fine.” He wished he believed that, but his gut was saying something else.
“Boss.” Evan stuck his head in the door.
Joshua flipped him off for calling him “boss.” They’d been friends for years. They’d watched each other’s backs when the bullets were flying.
Evan flashed a grin. “They’re coming up the drive.”
“Gotta go,” Joshua told Drake and hung up.
Under any other circumstances, he would have been elated to run a meeting with the Russians. He welcomed the cat-and-mouse games. He was good at them. He found most men underestimated him because he looked young, and for being in their business, he was young.
“You certain no work crews will show?” he asked Evan. He meant Sonia. The last thing he wanted was for Sonia to show up when every one of his crew was walking around armed, looking tough and deliberately intimidating. He didn’t want the Russians to know about her. She would be a liability, making him vulnerable.
“I’m certain. Sonia’s in town. Kai’s on her. Gray’s here. Kai just reported in, and Molly and Sonia are eating lunch together in the café.”
That was a relief. He walked down the stairs into the great room, waiting for the Russians to get to the door. Evan opened it and escorted the small group of four men into the room. Instantly Joshua’s leopard went wild, confirming his belief that all four men were leopard. He’d have to be careful, make certain every statement was truthful.
“Nikita Bogomolov,” the oldest of the four men said, his hand outstretched.
He knew. Joshua could read it in his eyes. He knew Joshua and his men were shifters as well. That instantly evened the playing field, taking away the advantage Nikita thought he’d had. His smile didn’t falter as he shook Joshua’s hand and acknowledged his introduction.
The two men sized each other up. Nikita Bogomolov was fifty-seven years old. His face was lined, although he looked younger than his age. He wore a suit worth several thousand dollars, custom-made, and it fit like a glove. His shoes cost almost as much as his suit. His handshake was firm and his faded blue eyes sharp.
The three men with Nikita were clearly bodyguards. They didn’t make any bones about it, fanning out around their boss in a semicircle. They wore the same expression, eyes moving restlessly, their leopards close to keep them on high alert.
Joshua waved the four men toward the comfortable leather chairs. “Hot coffee or something cool?”
“Coffee would be welcome,” Nikita said. He looked around the room. “Beautiful place.”
“I’m in the middle of renovating it.” He sent the Russian a brief smile. All teeth. Showing his leopard. “The previous owner must have had a gun battle here. Lots of bullet holes.”
Nikita had stopped listening. He jumped up, his face a mask of fury for a moment, and then it settled into more amicable lines as he slowed his pace, wandering across the room to the fireplace. “This painting is quite unique. Where did you get it?” His voice was falsely casual, when clearly, he wasn’t feeling in the least casual.
Joshua was grateful that he’d learned from an early age never to show emotion. Fear ripped through him, leaving him feeling raw and exposed. He had the desire to take out his gun and shoot Nikita right in the head. His painting, the one he’d talked Sonia out of, hung in its place of honor, the colors of the swamp vibrant in his home.
“It was given to me by a friend.” That was true. He had to stick strictly to the truth. Later, the crime lord would go over every word and nuance. He had to hear the truth or he would come back and torture everyone until he got what he wanted. Joshua had to handle this just right.
He walked over to stand beside Nikita, staring up at the painting. “I saw it and wanted it. It reminded me of good times years ago.” He smiled at Nikita. “And it goes perfectly in this room.”
“I’d like to buy it from you,” Nikita said. “Name your price.”
Joshua turned away. “Nikita, we’re here to discuss business, not paintings. That painting is special to me for a lot of reasons, and I don’t want to part with it.” That was all true. Every word.
“My son, Sasha, was widowed a year ago. She was a beautiful, vibrant woman. She painted. This style reminds me of her. I would like to buy the painting for him.”