“I don’t know Serbian,” Rafe said. “Can you translate?”
Aran nodded.
Rafe gave Dajana a huge, warm smile and put the duffle bag in front of her. “We’re going to buy you a ticket to Paris, Dajana. We’ll get you to a safehouse there, where you can stay. We’ll also get your parents out. They’ll join you there.”
Aran murmured in Greek. Dajana stared up at Rafe and her eyes swam with tears. They dripped down her cheeks. She made no move to wipe them or look away.
“Passport, Uncle Rafe?” Alan said softly.
Rafael nodded. “That’s going to take a bit of time,” he admitted. He looked at Dajana again. “Someone will find you on the train, just before you reach the Serbian border. They’ll have a passport and papers you can use to get to France. Look for a tall, blonde woman, a beautiful one with green eyes.”
Sydney, Marit realized. He was talking about Sydney.
Rafe touched the duffel bag. “There is a set of clean clothes and some toiletries in there, enough to get by. There is also a small amount of Euros. You won’t be able to go mad, but you won’t starve, either. Once you’re in the safehouse, you won’t need anything else.”
Dajana nodded and murmured something.
“She says thank you for this. For everything,” Aran said.
Rafe gave her a warm smile. “It’s my job,” he said. “There are too many people in the world who find themselves between lives like this. One day, you might meet someone as trapped as you. If you help them out, I’ll consider that thanks enough.”
Dajana got to her feet and hugged Rafael. She looked fragile inside Aran’s oversized coat, yet the look in her eyes as she smiled at Rafael told Marit that she would be alright.
Then she picked up the bag and looked at Aran.
He nodded. “I’ll go buy the ticket,” he said.
“Here,” Rafe said, holding out a credit card. He looked over his shoulder. “Better hurry,” he added. “The train is coming.”
It was. It had rounded the curve, nearly a mile up the track and was coming into view, a streamlined silver metal dart.
Lots of people came onto the platform as soft chiming announced the arrival of the train. Aran and Dajana disappeared inside and re-emerged as the train came to a halt. Immediately, doors opened and passengers streamed onto the platform.
Aran pulled Dajana aside and spoke to her, his voice low.
She hugged him fiercely, then kissed him. It was not a chaste peck.
Rafe raised his brow. “I see Aran has his father’s way with women.”
Alan grinned. “Yeah, he dumped her right into the middle of trouble.”
Rafe laughed. “That’s sounds about right.”
Dajana got onto the train as the departure alarm sounded and settled in a seat by the window in front of them. She rested her hand against the glass as the train pulled away.
Aran sighed. “She’s safe. Thanks, Uncle Rafe. I owe you.”
Rafael shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything, Aran. Better save up your favors for when you face your parents, back home. You’re going to need them.”
Marit sighed.
Alannah tugged her arm. “There’s a little garbage area fenced off, just around the side. We can jump from there.”
Marit didn’t look forward to returning home. Not even for the hot shower and meal she had been fantasizing about.
Chapter Twenty-Four
When she reached the drawing room, London saw that Neven was standing there, almost as if he was waiting for her. She went up to him, more pleased than she could say to see him.
Before she could touch him, though, he gripped her arms and pushed her towards the stairs. “Keep moving,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Go up. Lock your door.”
Startled, she hesitated. “Are you in danger?” It sounded strident to her and she winced.
Neven’s surprise answered her question. “No time,” he said quickly. “She’s coming.” He nodded towards the stairs once more.
As London couldn’t stomach the idea of being in the same room with the woman, she hurried up the stairs, happy to comply.
The front door opened again just as she reached the top.
“London.” Soft and from behind her.
London turned to look along the landing in the other direction. Normally, she headed down the corridor at the top of the stairs.
Remi was standing halfway along the section of railing that opened out onto the drawing room, below. He had his back against the solid wall on the other side, which would hide him from anyone below. He beckoned.
London moved over to where he was standing and flattened herself against the wall, too. He raised his finger to his lips and she nodded.
She listened to Sofiya’s shoes grate against the marble in the foyer, then pass onto the carpet in the drawing room. “What is this I hear about you losing the boy? This is most careless of you, Kristijan.”
Remi made a soft sound and rolled his eyes. He seemed angry.
“You should choose more biddable stock if you want to sample it,” Neven replied coldly. “The boy had skills. He overcame your guard and mine.”
“I’ll make sure the next one is pliant,” Sofiya said.
“Not from my stock, you won’t,” Neven shot back. “You stir them up too much. We’re already losing heads because of stress and cold.”
London shivered. He was talking about people. He made it sound like he was talking about cattle, or merchandize. Only, Neven would have to talk that way, because that was how Sofiya thought of them.
“In fact, Sofiya,” Neven continued, “I think it’s time you went back to Usenko.”
“Sick of me already, darling?” she asked, her voice syrupy.
“I didn’t want you here in the first place.”
“I determine when I go back and not a second before,” she snapped. His answer had irritated her. Then her voice changed back to heavy cream. “It seems to me there is still some unfinished business…”
Soft sounds. Then a noise that made London’s stomach roll. Sofiya moaned.
“That’s enough,” Neven snapped.
Sofiya sucked in a breath that wasn’t at all aroused. “You dare…”
“I dare, because you are upsetting my operation. I want you and your men gone, Sofiya. By tonight.”
“I go when I’m ready to go,” she flared. “You’re as foolish as your stupid cow of a wife, Kristijan. You’ve got scruples and it will be your undoing. Should I spell it out for you?”
“I’ve shown you the stock. You know everything is on track. There’s nothing else you need to know to reassure Usenko. Go back and reassure him. That’s your job.”
“Your job is to satisfy me in every way. Kiss me, Kristijan.”
“No.” His voice was flat.
London realized she was smiling. Remi made another almost silent sound and she looked at him. He had his head back and was smiling up at the ceiling, too.
The front door opened and someone heavy stepped onto the marble, tracking in more dirt. “Sofiya!”
“A moment,” she said, sounding pissed at the interruption.
“Go take care of your shit,” Neven said, his voice harsh.
“I will,” Sofiya said. Her voice was like ice. “When I come back, I want you standing right there, ready to take me upstairs.”
“That is not going to happen.”
“Yes, it is,” she said patiently. “If it doesn’t, then I will report to Arkady Usenko that you are disappointing me. I’ll bring him here, Kristijan. You don’t want Usenko here, believe me. He will destroy you, just for irritating him and for pulling him out of Russia. He doesn’t like to leave Russia. He doesn’t like to take the risk. If he must leave, he makes it worth his while. He will take over your entire operation. Maybe he’ll even put me in charge. The shopping is good here and I would have no objections to running your little empire once you are gone. I’ll make sure the shipments are on time, every time.”
<
br /> “Sofiya, it’s urgent!” came the call from the front door.
“Don’t move from that spot, Kristijan,” Sofiya said. “We will finish this conversation in a moment.”
London heard her heels clip across the marble and the front door shut.
Then muffled thuds on the stairs. Neven appeared, climbing them two at a time, moving fast.
“Here!” he said, throwing out his arms. “Both of you. Hurry.”
London stepped into his arm, knowing exactly what he intended.
“What the hell?” Remi said, startled. “She’ll be back in—”
Neven turned on one heel and slapped his arm around Remi’s waist. “Shut up,” he said flatly and jumped.
* * * * *
Alannah jumped them back to her bedroom, which was a home point for her. Marit wondered where Aran would jump Uncle Rafe to, or if he would try to take him home to Spain, first.
“Gods and geldings!” The cry came from downstairs. “Veris, get in here!” It was Brody’s voice at full volume. As he was a singer, full volume meant something.
“That answers that question,” Marit said to Alan. “Aran jumped straight back here, straight into the living room.” She had to admire his guts.
“Aran!” Taylor cried. Her voice wobbled. “Oh my God, Aran!”
“We’d better get down there and make an appearance,” Alannah said. She sounded as reluctant as Marit.
“If we go now, they may not lash out as much. They’ll be totally focused on Aran,” Marit said.
“Good plan.”
They hurried downstairs and tried to slide into the room behind Brody’s back, as he was watching Veris and Taylor squash Aran between them. As Marit eased passed, she saw he was wearing a big smile of his own.
He reached out and grabbed her arm. “Not so fast,” he said, his smile fading. “You two…” He shook his head. “What were you thinking?”
Alannah’s chin came up. “We got him back, didn’t we?”
Brody hesitated. His face worked. Then he pulled them both into his arms and held on tight.
Marit relaxed.
“You’re still grounded,” he muttered into their hair. “For a year. The rest of your life, maybe. Christos, thank you for bringing him back.”
* * * * *
The first impression London received was one of closed-in warmth. Then, the smell of brine that made her think of harbors. She realized she could hear gulls crying, from somewhere nearby.
The room they were in was warmer than the house in Božidarko and the light dimmer. The single source seemed to be a window just in front of them from where dazzling sunlight was streaming, blinding her to everything else in the room.
“The light!” Remi hissed.
“Wait. Sorry. Wait just a moment,” Neven said. She heard him move. Then something blocked off light and she blinked until she could see once more.
Neven was closing shutters over the window, which was taller than he.
London did a slow turn, taking in the whole room. It was a studio. An apartment of some type that was European, with vintage details. There were two levels to the apartment. They were in the lower level, where the window was. The ceiling looked to be at least twenty feet above, making room for the second level, which was reached by a set of tiled stairs with a wrought iron railing. The same pretty railing edged the second level, making it a mezzanine. She could see the end of a bed up there. A teak wardrobe leaned against the wall, the old-fashioned sort with clawed feet and carved panels on the front. It would take four men to lift it. That was all she could see of the other level.
A wide landing split the staircase in two. She guessed that the door there was the outer door of the apartment, as there were no other doors in the room, except for the window, which was tall enough to act as a doorway.
The back of the lower level beneath the mezzanine could been seen through three small arches that held up the floor above. It was an old-fashioned kitchen, with a cast iron stove and a big concrete trough for a sink. The refrigerator was rounded on the corners and painted a dark red enamel.
A tiny table with Formica covering the surface and metal edging was surrounded by four vinyl and metal chairs. Linoleum covered the floor.
“Where are we?” Remi said.
“When are we?” London added, turning to look at them. The front section of the lower level was the living area, with cane lounge chairs and a coffee table that screamed Art Deco. “The sixties,” she guessed.
Neven’s smile was warm. “Very good,” he said. “August, 1960. Termoli, Italy, on the Adriatic coast.” He looked around. “A few years ago, I rented the apartment for the summer, in Termoli time. There’s a month to go on the lease.”
Remi edged closer to the shutters and carefully peered through them, wincing. “That explains the light,” he said. He looked again. “The harbor is right there. Right below us.”
“Yes,” Neven said. “The stringent smell is only at low tide. Once the sea breeze comes in each day, it goes away. The rent is cheap, especially in twenty-first century terms, for I don’t have Veris and Brody’s deep pockets. This place has served as an escape for a few years now. I don’t get back here often.”
Remi turned and crossed his arms. “Just how many pied-à-terre do you have stashed away in history, anyway?” he asked suspiciously.
Neven just smiled. “You know of one of them, at least,” he said, waving his hand around.
“Two,” Remi said. “There’s one with an ocean worth swimming in, where the salt is not so strong.”
London gave a guilty start and realized that Remi was watching her, looking for exactly that reaction.
Remi just smiled. “Confirmed,” he said softly.
“Why bring us here?” London asked Neven, deliberately seeking to change the subject.
“I needed time to think,” Neven said. “I haven’t had a lot of practice being a first class asshole.”
“I think you’re good at it,” Remi said darkly.
“You did fool Sofiya,” London said. “She was pissed at you. She didn’t like hearing ‘no’.”
“That’s why I need time to think,” Neven said. He rubbed his temples. “I can’t sleep in that house,” he added wryly. “I feel as though there’s sand behind my eyes, grinding away at the optic nerve.”
“She’ll be back any second,” Remi pointed out, moving towards him. “You don’t have that much time.”
“Here, he does,” London said. “You’re not used to thinking in timelines. We can stay here for weeks. Months. Years, even. Then just jump back to the second after we left. She won’t know a thing. At the least, Neven can sleep.”
“So can you,” Neven told her.
“Before you both collapse and start snoring,” Remi said, “there’s something I want to say, while Dragović isn’t around with his big ears and flapping mouth.”
“It’s Dragović who is talking to Usenko?” Neven asked.
“He was out the front of the house when we landed,” London said. “Then Sofiya came in spitting about some boy. What was that about?”
“Believe me, you don’t want to know,” Neven replied.
Remi leaned around him and looked at her. “She picked a boy out of the prisoners and wanted him taken back to the house for her amusement. He got away, though.”
London’s stomach roiled. “Oh…”
Neven made a sound of annoyance. “Really, Remi?”
Remi shrugged. “She’s an adult. She asked. Besides, the more she knows, the less Sofiya can pull her strings.”
“Yes,” London said, the word pushing out of her. “You told me about a project you wanted to halt and that helped me enormously when she dumped the facts on me on the way back from Leskovac. She wanted me to…I don’t know. Hate you. Crumple into a heap.”
“All of the above,” Remi said.
Neven crossed his arms. “You know about the shipment, then?” he asked carefully.
“I know enough,” Lon
don said. “I can figure out most of what has been puzzling me, the last two days.” She shook her head. “Has it only been two days since I got here…Serbia, I mean? So much has happened.”
“That’s why I needed room to breathe,” Neven said. “And I wanted to talk to you both, before I faced the witch.”
“She is all that, isn’t she?” Remi said, smiling.
“I’m quite sure she’s a clinical psychopath,” London added. “I’ve met some disturbed adults in my time. She is the scariest I’ve ever met. I know that Kristijan had his faults. I just can’t believe he slept with her. What was he thinking?”
“I don’t think he was thinking. Not lately,” Remi said softly. He was looking at Neven with an odd light in his eyes. “You defied her. You said no.”
“Believe me, that was not hard to do at all,” Neven told him.
Remi moved closer to him. “London, close your eyes for a moment,” he said, then kissed Neven, right there in front of her before London had a chance to react.
Her body did the same little jump and stretch that it had before. Only this time, it was twice as intense. Her heart did a little flip and her nerves fizzed as she watched the two of them together.
Then she realized that Neven wasn’t pushing Remi away. Her arousal soared. Her clit bloomed and pulsed. Even her breasts ached.
“Remi…” she breathed.
Remi broke off the kiss, his gaze on Neven. Neven curled his hand around Remi’s neck. “What was that for?” His voice was a little hoarse.
Remi’s gaze met London’s. “You didn’t look away,” he said softly. “Naughty London.”
She licked her lips. There was nothing she could say.
Neven turned his head to look at her, startled. Then his surprised faded and he nodded.
Remi let him go and moved back towards the window. He seemed to be fascinated by the stripes of bright sunlight passing through the louvers of the shutter. “The kiss was because you behaved like a decent human being,” he said distantly. “You have since you got here and it threw me badly for a while. Now, it’s a reminder of better days.”
London moved closer. “You’re talking about Kristijan, aren’t you?”
“As he used to be,” Remi admitted.
Kiss Across Worlds (Kiss Across Time Book 7) Page 27
