Page 142 of Savage Hearts

Pakhan looks briefly at our clasped hands, then back at me.

He gestures with his cigar.

“Come sit next to me, Miss Keller. I want to have a look at you.”

Oh, no, the king of the Russian mafia knows my name. This is so not good.

When I find myself unable to move, Mal gently prods me forward, helping me into the booth. I scoot around the curved tabletop, closer to Pakhan, looking everywhere but at him. Mal settles himself beside me and takes my hand under the tablecloth.

As soon as we’re seated, all the Vikings take their seats as well. Half a dozen beautiful young women in skimpy gold outfits appear from nowhere with trays of drinks. They serve Pakhan first, then me and Mal, then the Vikings, who start talking amongst themselves in Russian as if this is just another boys’ night at the club.

I grab the whiskey one of the girls set in front of me. Before I can chug it, Mal places his hand on my wrist to stop me.

Shit. I forgot I can’t drink! This is the worst possible time to be missing a kidney.

Silence reigns for a moment after I set the glass back down.

Then Pakhan says, “You’re nervous.”

I exhale a hard breath. “No, I’m terrified. Thank you for the outfit. It’s lovely. For the contacts as well.”

He smokes his cigar, considering my profile. On my other side,Mal is quiet and still. A dark lake with deep waters hiding vicious monsters beneath.

“What are you afraid of, child?”

It’s probably the grandfatherly way he addresses me that makes me feel a sliver more comfortable, but I find myself able to glance at him without fainting.

“Well … you.”

“Me?” Pakhan looks to Mal with raised brows.

I blurt, “It’s not his fault!”

Now both of them are frowning at me. I’m looking at Pakhan, but I can feel Mal’s glower without seeing it. It makes me panic all over again. I bite my lip to keep from making another sound.

“What exactly isn’t his fault?”

“Me being afraid of you. He didn’t say anything bad, you’re just… sort of… scary.”

When he simply stares at me, I cringe. “Sorry. I’m not trying to insult you. I’m just telling you the truth.”

“The truth. Hmm.”

He smokes thoughtfully. Mal still hasn’t said a word.

“Tell me, Miss Keller, how are you?”

That catches me completely off guard. I blink. When Mal squeezes my hand, I take a breath and hope he meant it when he said to tell the truth, because here goes.

“Right now? Totally freaked out. In general? Better than I’ve been in maybe ever.”

“Better than ever? Most women who’ve been shot, kidnapped, and held captive might find a different way to describe their predicament.”

He says it to me, but he’s looking past me to Mal. He doesn’t look happy.

How the hell does he know all this stuff? And why would he care if Mal kidnapped me?

Doesn’t matter. Focus.