by Eve Langlais
She gnawed her lower lip. “Do you think if we show up with the key, they’ll actually trade Peter for it?”
“Yes.”
She sighed in relief.
“And then once they have it, they’ll most likely kill you both.”
“What!”
He turned a scoffing snort her way. “You don’t seriously think they’d let you walk away knowing what you do.”
“What happened to honor among thieves?” she grumbled.
“It doesn’t exist as much as you’d think. Don’t worry, Peanut. I have a plan.”
“Where we don’t die?” Because she was really, really wishing she’d thought longer and harder about this.
“Have you forgotten what I am?”
“No, but how is being a giant feline helpful? Going to dazzle them with your mousing skills? Create a cat’s cradle with some yarn?”
“You are about to find out, Peanut.”
The GPS took them to a neighborhood that was a sprawling mess of streets that meandered around executive properties. About three miles from their destination, he stopped the car.
“What are you doing?”
“Your turn to drive.”
“Me?” That would require unknotting her worried hands from her lap.
“Yes, you. You need to drive the rest of the way.”
“What about you? What are you going to do?”
“I’ll be nearby.”
“Wait, you won’t be with me?”
“The plan won’t work if I’m in the car. While you’re distracting them in the front, I’ll be sneaking in to provide backup.”
Trepidation had her almost wheezing. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
His finger lifted her chin. “If you don’t want to do this, then you can stay in the car and I’ll go in alone.”
He gave her an out. Offered her safety. She wanted to take it, but how could she ask him to bear all the risk?
Taking a deep breath, she refused. “I can help.” Even if it was just to distract them with her fear and ineptness.
“Are you sure?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing over her mouth.
“Peter is my responsibility. Not yours.”
He dropped a kiss on her lips. “My brave and beautiful Peanut. I’ll see you on the inside.”
She only wished she had his confidence. As he got out of the car, she slid behind the wheel and then had to adjust the seat. By the time she could see over the steering wheel, there was a liger outside her window. He nuzzled the glass and winked before loping off into the night. He was kind of cute in a giant-sized kind of way.
As she eased the car into Drive, her mind went in the most inane directions, wondering if he had to get shots like a regular pet every year. Did they need flea and tick protection? What did they eat? What about the bathroom? Did his home have a kitty litter box?
Would she ever find out?
First, they had to survive the upcoming exchange.
Her hands white-knuckled the steering wheel as she approached the gate. Something by her visor flashed red and was answered by the portal. The bars cranked open, and she slid the car through.
Well, that was easier than expected. She followed a long winding drive and emerged to find a house. Castle. Whatever it was, it took up a good amount of space.
She parked by a tier of steps. When she reached the massive portal, she knocked then stood in front of it and did her best not to shake.
She almost lost it when the doors opened and she was confronted by a pair of guards holding guns. The short one with the thick mustache barked at her in Russian.
Rather than reply, she raised her hands. It didn’t ease the direction of the muzzles.
There was more yelling she barely understood, and then a sudden clap of hands.
The soldiers quieted, and in the sudden silence, she heard a woman’s voice. “What a lucky day. I thought we’d lost you back at the farm. But here you are. Peter’s sister. We’ve been looking for you.”
Hearing her brother’s name caused her heart to stutter. “I don’t know why you’d want to find me. I’m hardly a person of interest.”
An older lady stepped into view, average height, maybe five six or seven, her features sharp and yet handsome. Her bobbed hair was very chic, as was the vest of white fur over a cream-colored blouse tucked into the same color slacks. Her red lipstick stood out in contrast. “Your brother has something I want.”
“Then ask him for it.”
“We’ve tried; however, he disappeared on us, and we’ve run into difficulty locating him.”
“Wait, you don’t have him?” Her eyes widened. “But the message on the wall—”
“Was bait to bring you to us. Let’s see if your brother keeps hiding with his sister’s life hanging in the balance.”
“I really don’t know where he is, though.”
“Better hope he’s keeping an eye on you then, or this will be painful for nothing.”
The threat chilled Charlotte’s blood. “If you let me go, I can tell you where to find the key.” She hoped they didn’t realize she had it in her pocket.
“Bah. What use is a key without the lock it belongs to? Or does it come with a map?”
She could have lied. Instead, she shook her head. “I don’t know anything.”
“Which is why we need your brother.” Those perfectly red lips smirked. “For the first video we record, we’ll leave your face unmarked. It will make the next one where we bruise it that much more effective.”
Her blood ran cold. Then hot as she heard a roar.
It distracted the lady. She frowned and waved at her men. “Go see what that is about.”
Their departure left Charlotte alone with the woman. Mob Lady had a few inches and pounds on her, but Charlotte had guts.
She threw herself on the lady, and they reeled hard into a wall. The surprise was short-lived.
“Why you…” A string of Russian followed as fingers dug into her neck, and Charlotte struggled to break free.
She managed a sloppy kick. It earned a screech as her foot connected with a sensitive shin. While Mob Lady hopped, Charlotte glanced around and saw a vase. Probably old and priceless, but her life was worth more than some pottery.
She cracked it down over the lady’s head. Mob Lady dropped, leaving Charlotte staring at the body.
Oh shit. Had she killed her?
“Peanut!” She heard Lawrence’s voice a moment before his naked body slammed into her and swept her into his arms.
“I hit her really hard,” was all she could say.
He read her mind and then reassured her. “She’s not dead.”
The tension eased from her. “Oh good.” She leaned into him. “And this was all for nothing. She doesn’t know where Peter is. It was all a plot to use me as bait.”
“As bait for what?” Lada emerged suddenly, her presence surprising. To Charlotte at least.
Lawrence acted as if he’d expected it. “Lada, what a surprise. Are you resorting to stalking these days?”
“You wish. I came to meet with my associate.” Her gaze dropped to the woman on the floor.
“You know her? What is she looking for? What does she want from my brother?” Charlotte couldn’t contain the questions.
“Your brother?” Lada’s mouth rounded. “He’s the one we’ve been looking for?”
“Why?” asked Lawrence.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Lada taunted.
“You will tell me.” He took a menacing step forward, only to have Lada shake her head and pull a gun.
“You really should have chosen better, Law. This will hurt me more than you.”
“You won’t kill me.” He sounded so sure.
“I need her, not you.”
Lawrence didn’t back down. “Do you really want to start a war with my Pride?”
“They’ll never know who killed you because they’ll never find your body.”
“You don’t say,” drawled a familiar voice.<
br />
Lawrence sighed. “Really, Aunt Lena? I told you I had this.”
“Pride security concerns us all.” Lena barely spared him a glance as she marched for Lada. “Lada Medvedev, your threat to one belonging to King Arik has been duly noted.”
“I can explain,” said the now panicking Lada.
“Explain what? That you’re a two-timing sow, just like your mother?”
Lada went from apologetic to sneering. “What a surprise, the mighty liger Law needs his aunties to save him.”
“Not just his aunts but also a distant cousin.” The voice belonged to a stranger, a gorgeous woman with a wicked smile, a handsome guy dressed in all in black by her side.
“Dean. Natasha.” Lawrence greeted them. He glanced at Charlotte. “You might recall them as the folks who got married the night we met.”
“So this is she.” Natasha eyed her up and down. “She’s tinier than I would have expected.”
Charlotte bristled. “Small is mighty.”
“Indeed.” The other woman’s lips twitched, but her expression was anything but amused as she turned her gaze on Lada. “Naughty bear. Playing games again. Wait until my father hears.”
“The Medvedev have no argument with the Tigranov family.” Lada looked nervous.
“That’s not entirely true now, is it?” Natasha, coiffed and perfect, circled Lada, managing an air of menace that remained elegant as she murmured, “You messed with Lawrence, who is almost a brother to my husband. We are also fairly certain his father was my great-uncle’s get. Which makes her”—a manicured finger pointed at Charlotte—“my sister-in-law. By threatening them, you declared war.”
“My brother knows nothing of this,” Lada huffed.
“Then you better run home and tell him, little bear. Tell the Medvedev sleuth there won’t be a place the bears can waddle and hibernate that we won’t find. No honey we won’t take. No den we won’t crush. From here on out, the Medvedev name is to be spat on when spoken.”
“You can’t do this,” Lada exclaimed, looking a bit panicked. “I was just looking for the treasure. I didn’t know she was married to Lawrence. And she’s human. A human isn’t worth going to war over.”
Rather than reply, Natasha said, “I’m going to count down from ten. Nine. Eight.” By six, Lada’s ass was already through the door. At four, Natasha grinned. “Well, that was easier than expected.”
Lawrence snorted. “What happened to trying to shed the Tigranov family’s mob image?”
“My wife is finding her reputation useful in getting things to move more quickly than regular channels allow.” Dean stepped close and glanced at the body on the floor. “Another human. Just like all the guards on the property. What’s going on? Your aunts didn’t tell us much on the phone, only a set of moving coordinates.”
“I should have known they’d call you. I told them I didn’t need any help,” Lawrence grumbled.
“Stop your whining.” Lena flashed him a finger as she returned to the room. “The place is clean. No sign of any other humans.”
“Because they never had my brother,” Charlotte exclaimed. “It was all a ploy. They wanted to use me to draw him out.”
“And why do they need him?” Natasha asked.
That was a question they’d yet to get an answer to. As Charlotte was more properly introduced to Lawrence’s best friend and his wife, the aunts took care of the unconscious lady, who was apparently known as Dame Rouge. Given she was passed out, they locked her in a cell in the basement along with her guards. They planned to question her when she regained consciousness. If she ever woke.
Charlotte had hit her really hard.
It was kind of uncanny how at home Lawrence and the others appeared. They’d gone to exchange a key for her brother, been attacked, and now were drinking wine while lounging in the gaudiest room in existence. Red velvet drapes and overstuffed furniture edged with gold— tassels, leaf, even glossy gold knickknacks.
She paid little attention to the conversation. They passed the key around as if it would suddenly spit out a hologram with all the answers.
But it, like everything else since her arrival in Russia, ended up being another dead end. She still had no idea where her brother was.
Lawrence scooped her up suddenly, “Time for bed.”
“Okay.” She didn’t even argue as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Wake me when we get to the hotel.”
“Fuck the hotel. We’re staying here,” he said, bounding up the stairs to the second floor.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she whispered. “What if more bad guys come?”
“Then I’ll eat them.”
Her eyes widened.
He smiled. “Just kidding. The only person I plan to eat is you.”
And he did so, quite thoroughly.
Chapter Seventeen
Making love to Charlotte that night, then again in the morning, only temporarily forestalled the situation.
Eventually she asked, “When are we leaving?”
There was no point in staying. During the night the people they’d captured had somehow escaped. Apparently, while they slept, Lada rescued them, meaning no answers and an excuse for his aunts to declare a war with the Medvedev family.
Their escape also meant no Peter.
And a mate who still refused to accept him. The only good thing new was her declaration that she was done with Russia.
“If Peter is hiding, then he can find me when he’s good and ready,” was her sour observation.
“And if he needs your help?”
She shrugged, and he knew it hurt her to say, but she admitted it anyhow. “I think it’s become crystal clear I don’t have the right kind of skills to do anything.”
“Then we’ll hire someone who can help.”
“I can’t afford it.”
“I can.”
She stared at him. “You know I can’t accept it.”
“You’re my—”
“Mate. Yeah.” She sighed. “I want to go home.”
“We can leave tonight.”
She blinked. “Even if I let you buy me a ticket, I have no passport.” She’d seen the ripped-up remains of it when they were going through the destroyed apartment.
“That won’t be a problem.” He’d pull some Pride strings and get her back to America.
“And what about when we do get back? What then?”
“I’m hoping you give me a chance to prove I can be someone you can count on. I want to get to know you, Charlotte. I think we could be great together.”
Had this been spoken in a movie, the heroine would declare her love and they’d kiss and live happily ever after. This was Charlotte.
“I need to think about it.”
He didn’t dare ask how long it would take her to decide. He made arrangements and got them aboard the Pride jet with others who’d come over to celebrate the wedding. Cousins. Aunts. More aunts. All staring at his Peanut.
Then him.
Then Peanut.
It was Mary-Ellen that finally voiced it. “I bet my candy bar they break up before we reach La Guardia.”
Which started the wagering. Through it all, Peanut said nothing, but she did hold his hand and, at one point, did naughtily whisper, “Think they’ll go sleep so we can join the mile-high club at one point?”
“No.” And he didn’t tell her they’d all heard her comment. Privacy didn’t exist in the Pride, but cockblockers did. They made sure the bathroom was kept occupied, meaning the closest he got to Charlotte was her drooling in his lap when she napped.
Eventually, they made it across the ocean, ditched the family, and arrived at his house.
“I expected you to be living in some ultra-modern high-rise,” she admitted, entering the restored Victorian.
“That would be my city place.” His bachelor pad, which he wouldn’t be needing anymore. “This is my country home.” Which he also thought of as his forever place. He’d spent the last decade rest
oring it to its former glory.
She ran her hand over the wooden balustrade that he’d stripped, sanded, and stained himself. “It’s beautiful.”
“Would it help if I said you’re the first woman, other than my aunts, I’ve brought here?”
“How long before you send me packing?” She slapped a hand over her mouth as if she’d not meant to say it.
“Don’t look so horrified. It’s a perfectly valid question. A week ago, before I met you, I might have assumed we’d already be done with each other. But…” He shrugged. “Is it wrong to admit I’m just as surprised as you are that when I wake each morning, the first thing I think about, the only person I want to see, is you?”
It sounded dorky spilling from his lips. True. But still super emasculating.
Totally worth it, as it brought a smile to her lips. “I like waking up to you as well, but we have to be realistic. We barely know each other. What happens in a few days or weeks when you tire of me?”
“Shouldn’t you be asking what happens if we don’t?” He arched a brow.
“Be serious, Lawrence.”
He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I understand your concern. It’s not as if my family has been quiet about my reputation, and I earned it. I won’t lie. I want you to believe me when I say this is it for me, but that will take time to prove. In the meantime, to help alleviate your concerns, you should know that I’ve already been in contact with my lawyer. I expect we’ll receive the new deed to the house showing you as owner by tomorrow. Also, an account of one million dollars has been established that only you can access.”
She gaped at him. “Why would you do that?”
“Because, as some of my cousins pointed out, I am in a position of power right now. You have nothing. No home or funds of your own. In order for you to feel as if you truly have a choice and a say, you need to be in a position where you can walk away.”
“I don’t need your money or house to say no.”
“I know you don’t, but I am still giving them to you. Which means, as the owner, you can kick me out right this minute if you want.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“We will move as fast or slow as you want.” It was his Aunt Lacey who’d given him that advice. You can’t force her, Roarie. She needs to realize she loves you on her own terms.
