Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 113324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Paxán absently kissed my head. “Nothing we can’t handle. . . .”
Behind him, Sevastyan’s restless demeanor called to mind that ticking bomb clock. His golden eyes darkened on my face—like an indecipherable warning, meant for me alone.
Sooner or later, the countdown clock would zero out.
And then what would happen?
CHAPTER 17
“I need answers, Filip.” He and I were in the stables, awaiting the groom. The weather had finally broken after another week of rain, and I’d invited Filip to join me for a ride. “I need to know more about the threat to Kovalev.”
Things around Berezka continued to heat up, and no one would explain to me what was happening. Not even when a photographer had arrived yesterday to take a head shot of me—for my new fake Russian passport. “Just a precaution,” Paxán had assured me. “You never know when you might need to travel outside our territory.”
To travel? Or to flee?
Since my talk with Paxán, I’d gone on a Sevastyan-fast, working to keep my mind off him. Sometimes I would catch his penetrating gaze on me—the clock ticking on—but he never said anything to me beyond good morning.
Still that tension simmered between us, mirroring the business tension pervading the estate. Both continued to grow, with no end in sight.
“Don’t worry about it, Nat.” Filip looked model-stylish in his boots, tan riding pants, and plaid equestrian jacket. Only a man of his physical perfection could pull off that outfit, a cross between voguish and swank. But he also looked exhausted. “Your father is a clever man. He’s always one step ahead of the bad guys, even a ruthless character like Travkin.”
I adjusted my own tailored coat with my warm gloves. Though the sun was out, the air was chilly. Fall in Russia had a definite bite. “I wish there was something I could do to help.” I’d edited Kovalev’s sparse Wikipedia entry, adding “allegedly” everywhere and implementing a “Contributions to Charity” section.
How had the syndicate lived without me all this time?
Strangely, there was no mention of Aleksandr Sevastyan anywhere online. There was a prominent family in Russia with the same last name, but they were in legitimate commerce and even politics.
“You are helping.” Filip chucked me under the chin. “You make the old man happy. Each day you two grow closer. It’s obvious to everyone. Let the menfolk take care of this.”
I stiffened, then realized he was kidding. He was the most modern-minded guy here, and he loved to yank my chain.
“You’re ravishing when you’re all feminine and piqued.” He tilted his head. “You know, you’d be amazing blackmail bait. That’d be one way to join the family business, Cuz.”
“Are you trying to distract me?”
With his angelic smile, he asked, “Is it working?” He reached forward to grasp my ponytail, twirling the end around his forefinger. Just when I was about to step away, he abruptly dropped his hand. He had a knack for sensing how far he could push with the flirting.
He’d been having to pull back more and more—because he was always flirting. At times Filip’s behavior made me wonder if he was aware of those plighted rules. I could swear there was an almost desperate feel to his attentions—which didn’t fit with, well, everything about him. “There’s nothing you can tell me?”
“Hey, I just work on the books. Sevastyan doesn’t allow me inside the inner circle.”
“Me neither.” We were outsiders looking in.
When Filip brushed his hand over his tired face, I noticed that his watch was gone. Like Paxán and Sevastyan, he’d had an expensive wristwatch, but I hadn’t seen it in a couple of days. I narrowed my gaze. “Something’s going on with you.” I looked into those guileless gray eyes. Too guileless?
“Nothing’s going on, Cuz.”
“Then where’s your watch?” I demanded before I could bite my tongue. Hadn’t I decided to eighty-six the overanalyzing? The prejudgment of men? Yes, but, damn it, I’d been getting some strong gambler vibes off him. Was his car really still in the shop after two weeks?
He averted his gaze as he said, “Went swimming with it the other day.”
“Let me guess. It’s in the shop too?” No watch: pawned? No car: hocked?
Was my cousin a gambler in deep?
“In the shop. You got it.”
I peered up at him. He didn’t seem to be worried about it whatsoever, so I supposed I had enough on my plate without fretting over my cousin’s foibles. “You’d let me know if I could do anything?”
“Of course. You’re a good egg, Cuz. You know that, huh?”
The groom brought out our mounts then. I fell head over heels for my mare all over again. With her glossy gray coat and black stockings, Alizay was stunning. The posh tack just highlighted her lines. Though western riding was preferred in Nebraska, I’d taken English riding lessons, and was thankful for it now.
I gazed into her lustrous eyes, seeing my own adoring reflection. Okay, maybe I did like money, if only for the horses it could buy.
When the groom brought out a third mount, I asked Filip, “Are you expecting someone?” I frowned to see a rifle stowed in a saddle holster.
Filip scowled, muttering, “Bloody Siberian.”
As if summoned, Sevastyan entered the stables, his towering body briefly shadowed as he strode into the aisle. He wore black riding pants of a modern cut and a sharp all-weather athletic jacket that he could just as easily have worn to play rugby.
Filip’s style: Barneys high fashion. Sevastyan’s? Bespoke—and moneyed.
His gloves and clothes covered any tattoos, but that slim scar down his lips and the hardness of his features belied any gentlemanly appearance.
As he approached, he moved like an athlete; I could see the powerful muscles in his legs flexing with each of his steps, reminding me of when his thighs had quaked around my ears as I’d swallowed him down. . . .
Focus, Natalie. “Are you going with us?” I asked him, flushing at how throaty my voice sounded.
Sevastyan told Filip, “Kovalev wants to see you.”
“Just taking Natalie out for a ride,” he said smoothly. “I’ll catch him later this after—”