Air Bound

by Christine Feehan

  He bent his head and put his mouth against her ear. He didn’t say the words aloud. He couldn’t. What he felt was too personal. Too strong. Show me the way out, honey. Show me how to love you.

  Her breathing remained slow and even as it was meant to. There was a part of him that recognized he was angry with her for making him fall so hard, so fast. For offering him a way out, something he would think about endlessly. She had made certain he would feel every lonely moment without her for the rest of his life. Worse, she actually had made him question his motives.

  10

  THEODOTUS Solovyov was a big bear of a man with a bushy beard and piercing blue eyes behind glasses that sat low on his nose. He caught Airiana’s face in his hands and kissed both cheeks before she could pull away. He didn’t seem to notice her discomfort but turned to Maxim and pumped his hand enthusiastically.

  “You did it. You brought my daughter to me. How can I ever thank you?”

  How could I possibly be his daughter, Maxim? Look at him. Look at me.

  Theodotus dwarfed Airiana. He made two of her easily.

  Look at his eyes. Really look at them. You have your mother’s build—and his mother’s. But you have his eyes.

  She didn’t want it to be true. She felt nothing at all for Solovyov. If he had loved her mother so much, why didn’t he leave his wife, who by all accounts was treacherous, and take care of Marina and his daughter? As Russian’s top physicist, it stood to reason that even if his wife, Elena, had political clout, he would have even more. She didn’t understand why Maxim and Gavriil didn’t get that.

  Theodotus reached for her again, and she stepped back, slipping behind the long, ornate table. The yacht was a luxury vessel and equipped with every modern convenience.

  “Why did you bring me here? I was kidnapped and taken from my home and family,” Airiana said. “If you’re my father as you claim, and I’m not convinced you are, why didn’t you simply write to me or pick up a phone and say you’re coming to visit?”

  She didn’t look at Maxim. She didn’t want to see if he approved or didn’t approve. He’d said to trust him no matter what happened, and she would, but she would also rely on herself—her own judgment. She had questions, and the answers had to be satisfactory or she was going to be the most uncooperative daughter Solovyov had ever met.

  Theodotus smiled and nearly rubbed his hands together. “You’re definitely my daughter. No one has ever dared push me around, other than your mother. So young. So sad. She had no direction in spite of her brilliance.”

  Airiana’s chin went up. “My mother was a wonderful, intelligent person.”

  “Yes, yes, of course she was. I loved her very much. Her mind was . . . extraordinary.” Theodotus turned to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Scotch. He looked at Maxim and raised his eyebrow.

  Maxim shook his head.

  “Oh, surely this one time, you can dispense with your no drinking rule. We’re safe now and my daughter is home. Have a drink with me.”

  “No thank you, sir,” Maxim said, his voice firm.

  Theodotus sighed. “You really must learn to have fun.” He held up the bottle of Scotch. It was nearly empty. The physicist shoved that bottle beneath the bar and pulled out another full one to pour himself a drink and waved his hand at the two of them to take a seat.

  Airiana took the chair facing the couch, not wanting to sit too close to either man. If Theodotus had loved her mother, he certainly hadn’t felt deeply for her. “When was the last time you spoke to my mother? Or wrote to her? I didn’t find any letters from you in her things.”

  “Well, of course not. We had to be careful. She burned them.”

  “She burned the letters from the man she loved all these years and remained faithful to, but you didn’t burn yours? Maxim informed me that you had letters from Marina. You had a wife who could find them. Why didn’t you burn them?”

  “I couldn’t bear to let go of them. She had you. I had my letters.” Theodotus took another drink of the Scotch. “Elena never came to my office or my laboratory. She preferred a far more luxurious environment. I have several photographs of you Marinochka sent as you were growing up.”

  “When did you last have contact with Marina?” Airiana persisted, emphasizing the name she knew her mother by.

  Where is this going? I saw the letters and pictures. You were a teen, the last picture he showed me, although you looked very young. A mop of white hair and a long skirt and matching vest.

  She’d been fourteen in that picture. She remembered the skirt. Marina had sewn it for her. She loved the fabric, and her mother had made the outfit for her birthday. She felt very elegant in it, and they’d gone out to dinner, a rare occurrence for them. It had been a wonderful night. They’d gone to the mall and had their pictures taken together in one of the machines. It had been a fun night she’d always remember. She still had the outfit her mother had made for her.

  Airiana, what is it? Maxim asked.

  She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them tightly, setting her chin on top. She felt safer drawn in as she was. She kept her eyes glued to Solovyov’s face.

  He shrugged. “You were a teenager. A couple of years before she died.”

  “Before she was murdered,” Airiana corrected.

  He had nothing to do with that. You know your neighbor most likely killed her.

  “Yes, of course.” Theodotus shuddered visibly. “She was murdered. It was so terrible. We’d stopped communicating. We thought it was getting too dangerous.”

  She didn’t bother to answer Maxim. What would be the point? He wanted to believe Solovyov, but certain things didn’t add up.

  “Why would you think it was dangerous after fourteen years of communication?”

  Theodotus frowned. “I don’t think you could possibly understand the politics and unrest in our country. There was turmoil and intrigue and everyone walked a fine line.”

  “I happen to be extremely intelligent,” Airiana said, forcing herself to keep sarcasm from her tone. “I doubt if I have a problem comprehending anything. You could have left Elena, but you didn’t. You can’t pretend she would be more valued or powerful than you in your position.”

  “No,” Theodotus admitted. “I’ve never said that, only that she was very dangerous, and had tentacles into the underworld she had no problem using. She tried to have me killed. She would have tried to kill Marinochka and you had she known about you.”

  “After all those years?”

  “You didn’t know Elena. She was extremely vindictive. She didn’t want me as a man, but she wanted the prestige of being my wife. She had her parties and her friends, but she maintained her connections with unsavory people just so she could frighten anyone who crossed her. And yes, I was afraid of her. More than anyone, I knew the lengths she’d go to.”

  “And yet you dared to have an affair.”

  Theodotus pressed his fingers to his eyes as if his head was beginning to throb. “Yes. I couldn’t help myself. As I said, Marinochka was extraordinary. We talked for hours. She always had a perspective on subjects I hadn’t considered. She was young and enthusiastic. She made me more open-minded and expanded my thinking.” He closed his eyes briefly. “She made me laugh. She had a wonderful sense of humor.”

  It was the first time Airiana believed him, and it made her uneasy. All along she hadn’t really believed this man could be her father. She thought perhaps it was an elaborate setup to get her to defect, or to get information from her. No one was that good of an actor. Theodotus actually looked older, sad and regretful. He wasn’t looking straight at her, but off across the room.

  “She did have an exceptional sense of humor,” Airiana conceded.

  “She made me feel young and as if I could live again.” Theodotus took a long swallow of the Scotch and shook his head. “We didn’t expe
ct a baby to come along. Marinochka had no family, and I asked a mutual friend to put an apartment for her in his name. She couldn’t stay at the school.”

  Airiana was certain the things he was saying now were true. He had known her mother, and she probably was his daughter.

  “We talked about what to do. Both of us knew you couldn’t stay in the country, but it was important to us that you were born in our beloved country and bear my name. By that time, I’d talked to Marinochka about Elena and her family and she knew the danger to you. One of Elena’s brothers was part of the Russian mob and another was very high in the ruling party.”

  She glanced sideways at Maxim. He would know the truth. His nod was nearly imperceptible. Knots formed in her stomach. More and more she was coming to believe that at least part of Solovyov’s story was the truth. Wasn’t that the best way to convince someone everything you said was true? To mix in portions of fact?

  She looked around the opulent room. Theodotus could certainly afford to travel in style. Who had paid for the submarine? And Maxim didn’t come cheap, she was certain of that. Did physicists in Russia make millions?

  “Why didn’t you just get in touch with me,” she repeated, insisting on an answer.

  Theodotus sighed. “I received word that you were in danger. Years ago, your mother sent to me the rudiments of a project you were working on. I recognized the brilliance and potential and it became the foundation for work that I was doing here. Unfortunately, Elena had her ways of getting information and she found out . . .”

  “What ways?” Airiana demanded. Was she trained to extract information using sex? She couldn’t help the small glare she shot Maxim. She had tried not to be hurt by his rejection, but still, he sat there, looking masculine and invincible, a man, not a boy, and everything in her responded to him. She didn’t seem to affect him in the least.

  Elena was no agent, Maxim denied, his voice even. She was connected and she used everyone around her to get what she wanted.

  “She was able to seduce one of my assistants and he used hidden cameras to take information to her.” Theodotus sighed again. “I understand your need to question me, I expected it, of course, but I didn’t realize your refusal to believe me would hurt.”

  “It isn’t that I don’t believe you. I’m beginning to think I could possibly be your daughter and that what you’ve said about my mother and your relationship with her is true. But did you expect me to take this all at face value? Especially when my mother was murdered? The agents discovered that Mom was communicating with someone here in Russia and they believed her to be a traitor.”

  For the first time, Theodotus looked angry. There he is. The real Theodotus Solovyov. He is not quite as easygoing about all this as he pretends. He doesn’t like to be questioned.

  He is a man of great importance in our country. He has a certain stature and I’m certain few ever question him.

  Exactly. If he went to his party and said his wife was a traitor and carrying on affairs and threatening him, they would have found a way to dispose of her. You know that. It’s what you do. How many times has such a request been made from men with less political clout? And look around you, Maxim. Who is paying for all this?

  Your father is a wealthy man.

  Surely you can see what Solovyov truly wants. He might have been curious about me. He may have really had feelings for Marina. But ultimately, men like Solovyov are all about work. They can’t ever stop, even if they know a weapon they’re developing will destroy the entire world. He’s like that.

  “Marinochka was no traitor. She was a citizen of Russia, just as you are. She committed no crime in telling me of our daughter’s school projects. No money exchanged hands. She loved her country, and she loved me.”

  “Why did you really stop communicating with her then? I was fourteen years old and my projects were really beginning to take off. What made you stop?”

  “I told you. It was becoming far too dangerous.”

  She leaned toward him, looking him straight in the eye. “It became dangerous because she was lonely and wanted to go home to you. She wanted to be with you. When you said no, she began drinking. That’s what really happened, isn’t it?”

  She’d taken a stab in the dark, but it wasn’t that huge of a leap. She knew her mother. Marina had been a romantic, and if she had been rejected by the secret love of her life, her illusions about him would have been shattered. She truly was gifted. She was intelligent and she would have come to realize that he’d been using her to gain information on Airiana’s work.

  She’d stopped asking. Stopped discussing. She’d withdrawn from her daughter and begun drinking heavily. Airiana had always blamed herself, that she wasn’t paying enough attention, but it would be like her mother to punish herself for believing in Solovyov for so many years. She must have been devastated.

  “Of course I couldn’t allow her to return. Elena would have had her killed immediately. Both of you. I couldn’t allow that to happen.”

  “You stopped communicating with her when I no longer shared information on the project I was working on with her, didn’t you?” It was another shrewd guess. More than anything, Marina would have wanted to protect Airiana, and her daughter had sworn an oath not to reveal to anyone the nature of her work when she’d turned fourteen. Marina had respected that oath, and had never asked her to discuss the work again.

  “It was for your protection. Both of you. The timing had nothing to do with it. This is getting us nowhere.” In a sudden fit of anger, Theodotus threw the crystal Scotch glass against the wall. It shattered into many pieces.

  “I agree. I’d like to go home now,” Airiana said, without looking at Maxim.

  “I am taking you home. You’re Russian, and no daughter of mine will be working for another country.” Theodotus stood up and took a threatening step toward her as if that might intimidate her into submission.

  Airiana didn’t move, continuing to watch him the way a mouse might a snake—except she had a secret weapon, and she felt rather smug about it. Theodotus might think Maxim was on his side, but she knew he was on hers. He couldn’t hide his aura from her, and he’d suddenly gone very dangerous, sitting there silently, coiled like a real cobra might be, watching his prey through narrow, hooded eyes. He hadn’t taken his gaze from Theodotus, not once he’d stood up. He hadn’t even blinked.

  “I’m an adult, not a child,” she reminded. “I have no intention of being bullied into working for any country, Russia or the United States. I haven’t done that kind of work in years nor do I have any intention of doing so.”

  “How dare you throw away your mind. You were put here to serve a greater purpose. You don’t just decide not to use the kind of genius you have because you don’t want to anymore. That isn’t your choice to make. Do you think I wanted to be Theodotus Solovyov?” His voice swelled, and he smashed his fist over his heart dramatically. “No. I wanted a simple life, but I was given genius and I use it for the good of my country.”

  Airiana nodded as if in agreement. “I can see that you’re very passionate about your work, but I won’t help you. I won’t. I haven’t worked on that project since my mother was killed.”

  “You live in the same vicinity as Damon Wilder. Did you think we wouldn’t keep tabs on you?”

  “As my father? Or as a physicist? And who is ‘we’? The Russian government?”

  “Both as your father and as a loyal patriot. I think you need to go rest. There isn’t anything more to say, Airiana. I certainly hope you think about this and come to the right conclusion that you’re better off with people who love you and can protect you.”

  Airiana let out her breath slowly. She was better off with people who loved her. Theodotus wasn’t one of them. She honestly didn’t think he was a bad person, but his work definitely consumed him and he had lost his research data. He needed her to help him recover his work. She was
certain of that. This wasn’t about saving her, although her father had certainly done that—she couldn’t pretend he hadn’t—but he had reasons other than paternal love.

  “Why now, Theodotus? What’s happening that I don’t know about that has made everyone suddenly come looking for me? The man who owns that shipping company, the one who hired Maxim to kidnap me in the first place with his other goons, he really went to great lengths to acquire me. Damon Wilder was on his way to visit me for the first time. We’ve never so much as exchanged more than a hello. And you. After all these years, you’ve suddenly come looking. What is it you all think I can give you?”

  Theodotus suddenly smiled, visibly relaxing. “You do have a superior brain, my little Airi. You inherited the best of your parents. I should have known that in spite of being under duress, you would still begin to figure things out.”

  He poured himself another drink, ignoring the shards of glass scattered across the Persian rug, and turned back to her, beaming. He saluted her with the glass. “You will be such an asset to me, my daughter. To my work. To our work. You are needed, and having you by my side, working with me, we’ll be able to sort this problem out in no time.”

  “You haven’t told me the problem,” Airiana pointed out, infusing her voice with curiosity. The truth was, she couldn’t help but wonder why all the sudden interest in her.

  If she could read Theodotus, she was certain Maxim could as well, but still, she was certain her father wouldn’t continue with Maxim in the room if he thought too much about it. His work was always shrouded in secrecy.

  Right now he was trying to impress Airiana, and keep her interested, certain she really was like him and her brain would need to figure out whatever puzzle he had for her. Having Maxim close allowed him two things. First, he believed his daughter had bonded with her “savior” and was grateful to him to be alive. Second, should she continue to balk, Theodotus was certain he could rely on Maxim to keep her in line.