Drake Sisters 03 - Oceans of Fire

will lead.”
    His voice was so low and sensual it seemed to vibrate through her entire body. The thought of his mouth on hers was dangerous. She remembered the first time he kissed her. It felt like a brand, as if he’d stolen a part of her and left his mark on her forever. “I’d probably faint,” she managed with a small smile. “And then where would I be?”
    “In my arms. Safe.”
    Abigail allowed silence to stretch between them for a few minutes. The thought of being in his arms Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    actually made her feel faint. It was dangerous. “What do you want me to do tonight?”
    He pressed her hand to his thigh and held it there. She could feel the shape and strength of his muscles beneath the thin material of his trousers. “Just have fun. Nikitin likes music and the Caspar Inn has great live entertainment so it stands to reason he might be there. He’ll recognize me, of course, and he’ll have bodyguards, so we’ll all be amicable. I want to see who he talks to, who is with him. And afterward, I’m going to follow him. They have to be holed up in a house somewhere. They wouldn’t risk a hotel. They would have had an intermediary rent them a house.”
    “My family will probably show up,” she warned him. The temperature seemed to be going up in the car, at least straight up her arm and burning over her face.
    He shrugged. “That will help with the appearance that we are on a date.”
    “Will there be any danger to my sisters?”
    “Nikitin would never publicly start trouble. He maintains the illusion of being a very upstanding businessman.”
    “Aleksandr, do you think this man Nikitin is the one responsible for putting out a contract on you? Do you think he’ll make a try for you?” There was no way to conceal the anxiety in her voice so Abigail didn’t even try.
    “Not with everyone around. And Nikitin is a middleman. He takes the money and makes the arrangements, but he never pulls the trigger. He really does conceive of himself as a businessman, not a criminal.” He flashed a brief smile. “In my country there is sometimes a fine line.”
    “In any country there is sometimes a fine line.” She found herself beginning to relax, not a good thing when she needed to keep her armor on around him. He was wearing the aftershave she loved so much; it smelled rugged and tempting.
    “Leonid Ignatev is behind the contract. Unless I manage to neutralize him, I’ll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. I knew that, though, Abbey. It isn’t news. He sent others for me, but they missed and I didn’t.” He shrugged. “That’s life.”
    She shook her head. “No, it isn’t. That’s no way to live. Sooner or later someone’s going to be waiting for you and you won’t be ready.”
    His teeth flashed in a faint smile. “I thought I’d be safe for a while in the United States investigating stolen art, but it seems I walked into a hornet’s nest.”
    “It seems so. I don’t believe in coincidences. If there’s stolen art from Russia here, they have to be involved in some way, don’t you think?”
    He nodded as he turned into Caspar off the main highway. “I don’t believe in coincidence either, Abbey.
    In any case, nothing much gets out of Russia without Nikitin eventually knowing about it. And he’d want his cut.”
    “Aleksandr.” Abbey waited until he parked the car in the side lot of the Caspar Inn. “You can speak without an accent, yet you don’t. Why not?”

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    “It is expected of me, baushki-bau , and I would not want to appear different in any way.”
    “No, of course not.” She sighed softly. “Why do you call me baushki-bau ? Where did you ever come up with that?”
    For the first time since she’d met him, Aleksandr appeared almost vulnerable, if such a thing could happen. “It’s just a term of endearment. There’s no translation.”
    “I know that, but where did it come from? Why do you use it?”
    He turned toward her and in the car he seemed to take up all the space. His fingers tightened around hers. “It’s silly, really, Abbey.”
    “Well, tell me anyway.”
    He swept his free hand through his hair, another gesture of nerves. Aleksandr Volstov, the man with nerves of steel. Now she was really intrigued. She maintained steady eye contact, refusing to allow him to get out of an