by Mari Carr
“There are hundreds of paths up the mountain. The only one wasting time is the one who runs around the mountain.”
“Hindu proverb?” Cecilia asked, the words vaguely familiar.
“Very good,” Nyx said.
“Focus.” James’ eye appeared to be twitching. “Okay, Nyx, why don’t you go to the club?” James said.
“No,” Cecilia cut in. “Dimitri and I will go.”
Nyx raised a brow, and Cecilia realized she was clutching the whip possessively. “He’ll insist on going,” she said.
Nyx looked to James. “Do we trust the Spartan Guard to continue to protect the fleet admiral?”
James shook his head. “Maybe Arthur can send some of the knights from England. Or maybe Sophia’s brother, Antonio. He’s security in Rome.”
“I have a better idea.” Josephine was still on her phone, smiling a little. “How about we just warn Eric?”
Cecilia’s heart stopped. “You…texted the fleet admiral?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“And told him that we suspected Charlotta and Derrick?”
“No. I told him that Mateo told you that he, Mateo, suspected them.”
“Josephine!”
“What?”
Cecilia looked at the whip, and for a moment seriously considered strangling the Irish woman with it.
“Well, that, uh, sort of takes care of that.” James angled his chair so the bulk of his body was between her and Josephine. Cecilia bared her teeth at her cousin.
“How do you know the fleet admiral so well?” Nyx asked. “First names, phone numbers, casual texting?”
“We’re friends.” Josephine’s response was far from satisfying, but before she could expound, her phone pinged.
“Wait.” Josephine’s smile disappeared. “Eric says he’s home from the hospital. Charlotta is with him, but he’s going to keep three other guards with him at all times, so he won’t be alone with her. He asked for Derrick—keeping his enemies close and all that—and apparently Derrick is gone. He’d scheduled time off prior to the previous fleet admiral’s death, planned a trip to England. I think given the circumstances, everyone assumed he wouldn’t leave. He did. He’s about to board a flight to London.”
“Maybe he’s gone to help Mateo?” Hugo asked.
“No,” Cecilia said. “Mateo’s not—” She realized what she was saying and stopped speaking mid-sentence.
Hugo snorted. “I thought you didn’t know where he was?”
“I don’t.” Bad time for her newfound proficiency at lying to fail her.
Nyx sat forward. “Derrick is on a flight to London?”
“Yes,” Josephine confirmed.
Nyx looked at Cecilia. “Where the club is.”
Cecilia blinked. “You’re the one who said that the third owner of the whip wasn’t the same as the traitor in the Spartan Guard.”
“I only posed the question. We also have to consider Occam’s razor.”
“We don’t have time for this! You’re talking in circles.” Cecilia almost snarled the words.
“She’s a religious scholar. What did you expect?” Hugo joked.
Rather than respond to Josephine, Cecilia pushed to her feet. “I’m going. Dimitri and I will go to this sex club in London and figure out who owned this whip.”
She slid out from between the stacks and headed for the door. She wasn’t surprised to hear James following her.
Just before she opened the door, letting the Dublin night into the warm intimacy of the closed library, James put a hand on her shoulder, arresting her movement. “It doesn’t look good for Mateo.”
“He’s innocent. I know it.”
“You’re in love with the man.”
She grinned. “I’ve known him—them—a handful of days. Safer to say I’m in lust with the hope of love.” Even as she spoke the words, she knew her feelings were far more engaged than she could admit even to herself.
“Mateo isn’t on the run alone, is he?”
Cecilia didn’t respond. Wasn’t sure how. James was married to the admiral of England. Wouldn’t he feel compelled to tell his husband that she had helped the man suspected of attempted murder escape and was now harboring him?
“Fair enough,” James said, not waiting for an answer. “Do what you have to do, but if you need help…call me.”
“I couldn’t put you in a position like that.”
“We’re family. You will call me. Promise.”
She hesitated, and James raised one eyebrow, proving he would find other ways to push the issue until he got what he wanted.
“Fine. I promise to call if things get rough.”
James gave her a quick, hard bear hug.
Dimitri and Mateo were waiting for her in a pub just off College Green. It was packed, and she slid between people speaking a dozen different languages. Amid all the tourists, no one noticed or noted a Spaniard and Ukrainian, though Cecilia thought she saw some young women eyeing them.
Her men were good-looking.
Dimitri pulled out the stool they’d saved for her, but Cecilia shook her head. “Let’s go.”
“What?”
She practically had to shout to be heard. “We need to go. To London.”
Mateo frowned. “Why?”
Rather than answer, she pulled the handle of the whip out of her bag just enough so they could see it. “I have a lead.”
Dimitri and Mateo shared a look and then, as one, rose and followed her out.
15
Dimitri rubbed the grit from his dry eyes, blinking a few times in the dim light in hopes of clearing his vision. He was fucking tired. He, Cecilia and Mateo had only managed to steal a few minutes of restless sleep since escaping the Isle of Man two nights ago.
Last night they’d been in Dublin, though they’d only spent a few hours in their rented hotel room after Cecilia’s secret rendezvous with God only knew who, and before the alarm went off at four a.m. so they could catch the early ferry.
Cecilia knew it was the safest route for Mateo—ferry tickets weren’t tracked and centralized like plane tickets—so she’d popped a couple of motion-sickness caplets and girded her loins. They’d found a quiet bench near a wall and she’d dozed between them, her head bobbing from his shoulder to Mateo’s during the trip.
Dimitri hadn’t managed to sleep on the ferry at all, his mind refusing to shut down as he considered his new mission. Unbeknownst to Cecilia and Mateo, he’d driven to Noble’s Hospital to talk to Eric after his tumble through the ceiling of the Grand Hall before breaking Mateo out of the dungeon.
Dimitri wasn’t sure what had compelled him to make the visit, not even certain what he’d intended to say until he got there. Two of the Spartan Guard had been standing as sentries by the doorway, so he’d lied and said Eric had called and requested a meeting. Then he’d held his breath while Nikolas confirmed it.
Eric had played along, lying to the guard about the meeting, mistakenly thinking Dimitri knew who’d set the booby trap that had almost cost him his life.
Instead, Dimitri stood there and pleaded Mateo’s case, boldly asserting the man’s innocence. Eric had listened quietly, then given Dimitri one week to find the proof that would clear Mateo’s name. Unlike the deal Mateo had been given, that ended in marriage, Dimitri’s task wouldn’t end as happily. If he failed to prove Mateo wasn’t involved, the fleet admiral said the trinity would be dissolved, and Mateo “would rot in that godforsaken dungeon after I drop his ass through the ceiling a few times.”
Dimitri chose to believe Eric didn’t really mean that, but was speaking out of pain and anger. The man really was lucky to be alive. He was also fairly certain that when Eric gave Dimitri time to prove his future husband’s innocence, the fleet admiral didn’t intend for Mateo to be with him. Breaking Mateo out wasn’t part of the deal, which meant Dimitri had landed himself a very powerful, very dangerous adversary in all of this.
Rumors had circulated about Eric for years after he�
��d stepped down as admiral of Kalmar. Dimitri had heard stories spanning the spectrum from him being a sheep farmer in Ireland, to his membership in an exclusive BDSM club here in London, to him being a paid-for-hire mercenary. The truth was probably somewhere in the midst of that.
Or all of that.
The bottom line was, Eric wasn’t a man to be crossed. And Dimitri had crossed him.
Once the ferry landed in Cardiff, they caught a train to London. It had been a quick trip through Wales and into Paddington Station—only a couple of hours—and while they’d all closed their eyes, Dimitri could tell from the dark circles under his lovers’ eyes that they hadn’t managed to sleep any better than he had. It was dusk, the dimness of the gray London sky fitting for his almost drunken drowsiness.
Cecilia had her cell out, plugging in the information for Red, the club her connection in Dublin suggested they check out.
“We can grab a taxi to the club,” she said through a yawn. “See if Derrick is there.”
Dimitri shook his head. “No, koxaha. First, I doubt the club is open yet. Second, the only place we are going tonight is to a hotel.”
“We don’t have time for that,” Mateo said sharply, his own exhaustion translating to a short temper.
Dimitri chuckled, wishing Mateo hadn’t planted the seed of sex. “There is always time for that. But that isn’t my plan for tonight. None of us is in the proper frame of mind, or attire, to tackle what you hope at the club. We will check into a hotel, sleep, and tomorrow, we’ll make our plan.”
Mateo clearly hated the idea, and Dimitri understood why. Mateo had a noose dangling loosely around his neck and until they found the true traitor in the guard, it would continue to tighten. Time was running out.
“What do you mean by attire?” Cecilia asked.
“While it’s not uncommon for guests to arrive at a sex club in street clothing, I believe, for our goal, it would be better to truly blend in. We’ll need to do some shopping tomorrow.”
“Leather and fishnet?” she inquired. Even though exhaustion was written on every inch of her face, Cecilia’s curious brain hadn’t shut down and there was no denying she was looking forward to their trip to the sex club. Dimitri knew they weren’t going there to play, but if the opportunity presented itself, he would enjoy giving her a taste of BDSM.
“Something like that. Come.” He took her hand and led her to the street, waving down a taxi. Mateo begrudgingly followed.
Dimitri began to instruct the driver to drop them off at the nearest hotel, but Cecilia spoke over him, louder. “Take us to The Goring, please.”
At Dimitri’s raised eyebrow, she said, “I’ve stayed there several times when I’ve come to London for business. It’s lovely.”
“And costly,” he murmured.
She gave him an inquisitive look, her head tilted as she studied his face. “You’re familiar with London.”
“I’m familiar with a great many things,” he replied with a wink.
Cecilia still looked pensive. “When we get to the hotel, I think we need to have a conversation.”
“About?” Dimitri asked.
“Your career.”
Dimitri wasn’t surprised by her response. He’d been waiting for Mateo and Cecilia to question him about his revelation that he was a spy ever since he’d spoken the words. There hadn’t been time before now.
“And,” she added, pointing to Mateo, drawing his attention to her, “your affair with Charlotta.”
Mateo’s eyes widened in surprise. “How did you—”
Cecilia didn’t bother letting him voice the entire question. “Derrick told us.”
Mateo rubbed his hand over his forehead, then his eyes, no doubt trying to wake up a bit. “I should have told you.” His voice was remorseful, defeated.
Cecilia reached over and patted his knee, giving Mateo a very sweet smile. “We’ve been together less than a week. I hardly think it surprising we haven’t had time to delve into each other’s pasts.”
“But…that wouldn’t have been pillow talk. It might have been vital to our investigation.”
Dimitri agreed with Mateo. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Mateo shrugged. “I wanted to speak to her first, to see if…” His words drifted away, and Dimitri sensed he was struggling to express himself. Stress, fear, and the lack of sleep seemed to be hitting Mateo harder.
“See if…?” Cecilia prompted.
“If my instincts were correct.”
“And were they?”
Mateo nodded a couple of times, then stopped. “I don’t know. I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
Dimitri understood that sentiment completely. They’d been running nonstop without sleep for over thirty-six hours. The past twenty-four had been spent in travel as they constantly looked over their shoulders.
“We’ll figure it out, Mateo,” Dimitri said.
Mateo looked at him—really looked—and Dimitri saw pure gratitude in the other man’s eyes. “You didn’t have to come down there and get me out of that dungeon.”
“Yes, I did,” Dimitri said. “They had the wrong man locked up.”
Cecilia reached out to take Dimitri’s hand, her other still resting on Mateo’s knee. None of them spoke again, the rest of the taxi ride made in silence.
Cecilia took charge once they arrived at The Goring, securing them a suite that Dimitri suspected cost her a fair penny, and he realized that he didn’t know much about her career or life either.
They dropped their bags by the door as they entered the suite, and Cecilia walked over to one of the couches, sinking down.
Dimitri stood before her, shaking his head as he reached down to pull her right back up. “No. Straight to bed. We can have our conversation there.”
She didn’t resist, grabbing her small suitcase and heading to the bathroom.
Mateo hadn’t even bothered to look around the living room when they entered. He was already sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall in front of him, almost zombie-like. “I’m tired.”
Dimitri thought that was an understatement. “I know. Get undressed and crawl in. Things will be clearer in the morning after some sleep.”
Mateo pulled off his shirt, then shed his jeans and shoes. Dimitri noticed his lover was going commando.
At his questioning glance, Mateo shrugged ruefully. “I’d only left our bed for a minute. Didn’t bother putting all my clothes back on.”
“Why did you leave the room?” Dimitri wondered what had driven Mateo from the bed, worried he’d misinterpreted how incredible the sex had truly been.
Mateo glanced toward the closed door of the bathroom. “That’s an answer Cece should hear too.”
Dimitri nodded, then started stripping off his own clothing as Mateo pulled back the sheets and climbed beneath them. He sat with his back against the headboard, pillows propped up behind him.
The door to the bathroom opened and Cecilia came out, dressed in an oversized T-shirt that hung mid-thigh. She’d washed her face and combed her hair, looking youthful, wholesome. Incredibly beautiful.
She started toward the bed, intent on joining Mateo, but Dimitri caught her, his hand wrapping around her upper arm. “Shirt.”
Cecilia tilted her head. “I thought tonight wasn’t about that.” She threw his words in the cab back at him.
“It’s not. But you’ll never come to our bed with clothing on.”
She narrowed her eyes, clearly taking exception at his proclamation. “Oh. Is that right?”
Dimitri grinned and kissed her, hard, pressing his tongue into her mouth. She didn’t resist him, despite her annoyance. More than that, she lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck, making it very simple for him to grip the hem of her shirt and tug it over her head.
She laughed when their kiss ended as the cotton swooshed up. “You fight dirty.”
“It’s the only way to win in my line of work.”
Cecilia turned and climbed onto the mattr
ess, claiming the middle and assuming the same position at Mateo, then patting the empty place next to her. “Nice segue. I think perhaps we should start with a few more details about this Ukrainian spy job of yours. You told us you worked for the water department.”
Dimitri sat on the edge of the mattress, facing them. “I could hardly tell you I was a spy, and during one of my earlier investigations, I did pose as an investigator for the water reclamation department. So that wasn’t a complete lie.”
She crossed her arms. “Semantics.”
Dimitri reached out, grasping one of her hands and giving it a squeeze. “In my line of work, it’s not wise to walk up to strangers and give them your life story.”
“What do you mean when you say you’re a spy?” Mateo asked.
“How much do you know about Ukrainian history?” Dimitri asked.
“Only a little bit,” Mateo admitted.
Cecilia’s response was exactly as he’d expected. “I read a fascinating book about it that started with the time of Herodotus right up to the crisis with Russia.”
“My job has less to do with Herodotus and everything to do with Russian dealings. I’m part of the SBU.”
“The what?” Mateo asked.
“Security Service of Ukraine,” Cecilia answered for him.
Dimitri nodded, pleased by her knowledge of his homeland and his people. While he was attracted to her looks, it was her personality and her brilliant mind that was ensnaring him, capturing and claiming his heart.
“I’m currently working as a shadow within the organization to weed out corruption in the Alpha Force.”
Mateo looked at Cecilia, not Dimitri, for the answer to his unspoken question.
“Soldiers who are still loyal to Russia,” she explained before turning her gaze back to Dimitri. “It sounds dangerous.”
“Some aspects are. Other parts of my job are fairly perfunctory.”
“You enjoy it?” she asked.
He did for a long time. However, in the past year or so, he’d begun to lose his passion for it. The politics involved, the secrets, the time spent constantly questioning everyone’s motives was exhausting. “I’ve been thinking lately that it might be time for a change.”
