He didn’t want the kid’s death on him. If he killed someone, so be it, but to send out the kid, when he’d known that stranger was no one to fuck with … that would haunt him to the end of his days. “Damn it, Gorya. Do we even have a way to track him? Let’s put some men in the field.”
“It won’t do much good when we don’t have a direction on him.”
He swore and spun around. “I’m telling Fyodor we’re putting microchips in our men so we can find them if there’s a problem like this. Phones are no good because it’s the first thing you get rid of, but no one would suspect a microchip in our bodies.”
“He’ll be back and he’ll be in one piece. Five minutes in his company, if he’s pulled this off, and I’ll bet you’ll want to kill him yourself,” Gorya predicted.
Timur couldn’t say he was wrong. The kid could make a saint want to choose hell over heaven. “What did you think about the new girl? Ashe Bronte?” He had to change the subject or he was going to start pulling out his hair.
“Wasn’t Bronte some kind of writer?”
“That’s right. Three sisters. Very famous.” Timur wasn’t going to risk his cousin giving him a hard time about knowing English literature. He’d had to study in secret so his father wouldn’t beat the hell out of him.
“Well, no one can find anything on a woman named Ashe Bronte. I’m sure there is one, but it isn’t this one,” Gorya said. “She’s got to be a plant. I hate saying that because she’s got a body on her and—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Timur all but snarled it. “I don’t need you going on about her body. You think I didn’t notice? I’m not blind. Every man for a hundred miles noticed. I’m just saying, she’s off-limits, so quit flirting with her.”
Gorya stared at him for a little too long. Timur refused to be the first one to look away. He stared him down, allowing his leopard to look through his eyes at the man who was more sibling than cousin.
“You’re attracted to her.”
“I’m attracted to a lot of women, and as you say, she’s got a body on her.”
Gorya shook his head slowly. “No, Timur, this is different. This one is the real deal. You’re going to go after her. Your cat even may let you have some fun without trying to kill her.”
Timur shrugged casually. There was nothing casual about the way he felt when he was close to Ashe Bronte. “That would be the hope. So, forget going in that direction. It wouldn’t make me happy.”
“She’s not going to fall for your charms,” Gorya said. “Oh. Wait. You don’t really have any.”
Timur flung himself into an armchair opposite Gorya. “She didn’t much like me saying her name sounded like she’d made it up, and worse, that it sounded like a porn star’s.”
Gorya stared at him for a long moment and then burst out laughing. Timur had never had a lot to laugh at, so his answering grin was rusty, but it was there.
“Hell of thing to say when you’re hoping to nail her,” Gorya pointed out. “Just sayin’, bro, your tactics need a little work. I think you haven’t had much practice lately.”
Timur wasn’t touching that. He hadn’t. There was no getting around that. Picking up a woman was easy enough for him. Getting her out of her clothes was even easier. Controlling his furious leopard, that was something altogether different, and sometimes nearly impossible. The thought of being with Ashe, clothes off and bodies coming together hard, rough, the way he liked it, without his leopard demanding blood, was worth any price he might have to pay.
“Go to hell,” Timur said and flipped his cousin off. He glanced at his watch again, and then looked to the window. If the boy didn’t get back soon, he’d have to apprise his brother that there might be a problem, and then he’d move heaven and earth to find the kid and bring him home.
Jeremiah Wheating was a good kid. Overeager to prove himself, but he had all the right instincts. Drake Donovan had brought the boy with him from Borneo and the kid had spent time first as a bodyguard with Jake Bannaconni, a powerful shifter who had a lot of enemies. Jake could take apart a company and put it back together in a matter of a week. That made money, but also enemies.
After Jake, Drake had given Jeremiah other assignments, wanting him to be well-rounded in his experiences. He’d come to Timur’s brother, Fyodor. The kid had been assigned to watch over Evangeline at the bakery, a job he hadn’t excelled at. In fact, Jeremiah had detested the assignment so much he caused a few problems for Fyodor with his woman—something Timur didn’t recommend anyone do.