but it had already been completed.”
“So you went to talk to Orlov,” she guessed.
“The smug bastard suggested that he would rather there be competition for the contracts in order to keep his costs down.” Kirill was shaking with fury.
Susan tried to imagine that. It didn’t look like a very good idea, even to a civilian like herself. “Wouldn’t that create an environment where assassins were hunting each other to eliminate the competition?”
“Yes.” He put his face in his hands. “As we left, someone gunned down Jacob inside Orlov’s club.”
“Did you see this person?”
“Not a good enough look to know who it was.”
“How often are these contracts issued?” Her analytical brain was already creaking into action even if the topic had nothing to do with interest rates or depreciation tables.
“Every twenty-four to forty-eight hours.” It appeared that Kirill’s brain was kicking into high gear as well.
“So this person—competition—whatever, is waiting for a contract to get issued and then murdering whomever shows up to complete it.”
“Like bait,” he murmured. His fingertips idly traced tiny circles on her palm. It was most distracting, but she would not have stopped him for the world.
“I hate to say it,” she began slowly. “But the best course of action would seem to be to lay your own trap at the scene of the next contract.”
He frowned suddenly. “You didn’t ask me to quit doing this or walk away.”
“Would it have made a difference if I had?”
He pulled her up from her chair and over to his lap. Susan sat down, feeling awkward but liking the way it felt to be held by him. He folded her in his embrace, and she nestled her head beneath his chin. Finally, he cupped her face in his palm and let his thumb skate along the fullness of her lower lip.
“I appreciate your willingness to accept me for who and what I am,” he whispered.
“I don’t pretend to understand it.” She gazed into his dark eyes and felt a stirring inside her. “But I respect you and your decisions, which means I can’t be forever trying to second guess them or ask you to change your mind because it makes me a little uncomfortable.”
“You are a singular woman, Susan.” Kirill leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers.
She couldn’t stand the teasing touch anymore. Putting her arms around his neck, she pressed her mouth against his until he was kissing her as though the world would end if he didn’t. His tongue swept inside her mouth, and she tasted the spicy maleness of him. The excitement made her wet between her legs, and she squirmed a bit on his lap.
Then someone began pounding on the front door, and Susan drew back with a string of expletives that made Kirill laugh.
“What?” she demanded.
“You’re adorable when you curse.”
“It’s like Grand Central Station around here tonight!”
“What?” He looked suspicious. “Who else has been by here?”
“Just some jerk from my office.”
“The one who started the…”
“Yes! The guy who started the rumor. He’s been bugging me at work because I’m not taking his crap any longer. I think he’s trying to figure out why I have bigger balls than he does.”
Susan jumped up from Kirill’s lap and stalked into her front room. He was right on her heels, and she was a little apprehensive to note that he had pulled out his gun and was holding it low at his side.
“Is that necessary?” she asked with a sigh.
He raised his eyebrows. “With the night I’ve had so far?”
Susan glanced through the peephole. “For the love of God, it’s your sister and Vlad.”
“Together?” Kirill shoved his gun back into its holster and reached for the door. “By all means, let’s invite them in!”
“You’re sick,” Susan muttered. She was wearing a pair of yoga pants and an old sweatshirt. It was hardly appropriate for receiving visitors, but then it wasn’t really proper visiting hours, either.
Kirill grabbed
“So you went to talk to Orlov,” she guessed.
“The smug bastard suggested that he would rather there be competition for the contracts in order to keep his costs down.” Kirill was shaking with fury.
Susan tried to imagine that. It didn’t look like a very good idea, even to a civilian like herself. “Wouldn’t that create an environment where assassins were hunting each other to eliminate the competition?”
“Yes.” He put his face in his hands. “As we left, someone gunned down Jacob inside Orlov’s club.”
“Did you see this person?”
“Not a good enough look to know who it was.”
“How often are these contracts issued?” Her analytical brain was already creaking into action even if the topic had nothing to do with interest rates or depreciation tables.
“Every twenty-four to forty-eight hours.” It appeared that Kirill’s brain was kicking into high gear as well.
“So this person—competition—whatever, is waiting for a contract to get issued and then murdering whomever shows up to complete it.”
“Like bait,” he murmured. His fingertips idly traced tiny circles on her palm. It was most distracting, but she would not have stopped him for the world.
“I hate to say it,” she began slowly. “But the best course of action would seem to be to lay your own trap at the scene of the next contract.”
He frowned suddenly. “You didn’t ask me to quit doing this or walk away.”
“Would it have made a difference if I had?”
He pulled her up from her chair and over to his lap. Susan sat down, feeling awkward but liking the way it felt to be held by him. He folded her in his embrace, and she nestled her head beneath his chin. Finally, he cupped her face in his palm and let his thumb skate along the fullness of her lower lip.
“I appreciate your willingness to accept me for who and what I am,” he whispered.
“I don’t pretend to understand it.” She gazed into his dark eyes and felt a stirring inside her. “But I respect you and your decisions, which means I can’t be forever trying to second guess them or ask you to change your mind because it makes me a little uncomfortable.”
“You are a singular woman, Susan.” Kirill leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers.
She couldn’t stand the teasing touch anymore. Putting her arms around his neck, she pressed her mouth against his until he was kissing her as though the world would end if he didn’t. His tongue swept inside her mouth, and she tasted the spicy maleness of him. The excitement made her wet between her legs, and she squirmed a bit on his lap.
Then someone began pounding on the front door, and Susan drew back with a string of expletives that made Kirill laugh.
“What?” she demanded.
“You’re adorable when you curse.”
“It’s like Grand Central Station around here tonight!”
“What?” He looked suspicious. “Who else has been by here?”
“Just some jerk from my office.”
“The one who started the…”
“Yes! The guy who started the rumor. He’s been bugging me at work because I’m not taking his crap any longer. I think he’s trying to figure out why I have bigger balls than he does.”
Susan jumped up from Kirill’s lap and stalked into her front room. He was right on her heels, and she was a little apprehensive to note that he had pulled out his gun and was holding it low at his side.
“Is that necessary?” she asked with a sigh.
He raised his eyebrows. “With the night I’ve had so far?”
Susan glanced through the peephole. “For the love of God, it’s your sister and Vlad.”
“Together?” Kirill shoved his gun back into its holster and reached for the door. “By all means, let’s invite them in!”
“You’re sick,” Susan muttered. She was wearing a pair of yoga pants and an old sweatshirt. It was hardly appropriate for receiving visitors, but then it wasn’t really proper visiting hours, either.
Kirill grabbed
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