Page 85 of Alexei

She thought her nickname for him was original and refused to give it up.

“Are you sure we aren’t in Transylvania?” she grumbled, peeking outside the window. “Are we on a fucking island?” she inquired, her delicate eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes.”

Her eyes widened. “Fuck, swimming wasn’t in my plans.”

I frowned. “You can’t swim?”

“Yes, I can swim,” she answered annoyed. “But I’m not swimming in Russian waters. I’d freeze my ass off. I hate cold weather.” We had that in common then. I hate the fucking cold too. “I hate humid weather too,” she added. “I want perfect tropical weather, not too hot and not too cold. The Russian ocean or sea, or whatever the fuck this is, definitely doesn’t qualify.”

I didn’t bother correcting her about the water surrounding us. It was a lake that appeared in 1957 due to the construction of a state district power station.

“Where in Russia are we?” she asked.

“Tatarstan.” I’d be surprised if she knew of the city built by the order of Ivan the Terrible in 1551. The fortified city was constructed in just twenty-four days. I didn’t think the world bothered learning that little useless fact, except for the Russians.

She shrugged her shoulders. “It doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Do you have your phone?” She glanced around the room. No land lines. There weren’t any cameras either. All the action would happen in the ballroom, according to Igor.

“No.”

“My brothers must be losing their minds,” she murmured, concern lacing her voice. “I hate when they worry.” Her eyes roamed the room again and then stopped on me. “Will your brothers worry?”

I shrugged. “Probably.”

Her lips curved up in a small smile. “I bet my brothers’ obsessive worry beats that of your brothers.”

“Probably,” I agreed. As it should. I have been on my own longer than I’ve known them so they knew I’d get through. And if I didn’t… Well, then it wasn’t meant to be.

“Are you close with your brothers?” she asked curiously.

“Somewhat,” I admitted. I’d kill for them, but I’d go on a ballistic, murdering rampage for Aurora.

She leaned against the wall, the window to her left. The sunrays against her dark hair highlighted the brown and auburn strands threaded through it. She was intelligent, classy, and brave. And so goddamn beautiful that I couldn’t get my fill of her. I wanted to hear her moans, her screams, her voice. Fuck, anything. As long as I heard her.

“I’m really close to my brothers,” she admitted softly. Her hypnotic, dark eyes glanced my way and a protective urge welled in my chest. Fuck, I feared I had become so obsessed with her that I wouldn’t be able to let her go when all this was over. “I give them a hard time about their constant nagging. They behave like my parents since our parents,” she paused for a few seconds, and I thought she wouldn’t say anything else, “Well, since my mom died when I was a kid and Father wasn’t around. He was too busy climbing the political ladder.”

She sighed heavily and glanced back out the window, remaining quiet for a few minutes. I wondered what thoughts passed through that pretty head of hers. It was hard to guess what the next words or question coming from her would be.

“I’m suspecting swimming is in our near future,” she announced and a shudder rolled through her body. The corner of my lips twitched. Her thoughts were really all over the place. “No offense Alexei, but Russia sucks.”

“Agreed.”

“Does McGovan know we were leaving for the club last night?” she questioned me. “Or was that the night before? I can’t keep track of time anymore.”

She was out for almost a day so it was two nights ago.

“McGovan doesn’t know.”

Her fingers pushed her unruly hair out of her face, and I noticed the small tremor in her hands. She was nervous. She was right to be, but it hit me wrong to see her upset. Except I didn’t have much in terms of assurance. It was just the two of us. I’ve had it worse, but I was certain she hadn’t.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I told her, though I had no right to promise something like that.

“It’s just the two of us,” she murmured.Against all of them. It was the unsaid part that got her worried. “Do you come here often?” she continued questioning. I sensed she needed words to work off her nervousness.

“First time.”