He helped me to my feet. “I don’t talk about the past.”
Shut out. “You know all about my past. Why can’t I know something about yours?”
He ran both hands through his dark hair, his muscles flexing beneath his thin gray t-shirt. “Your past is tinged with blood. My past is drowned in it. Maybe one day I’ll tell you more, but not today.”
I tried to go for his throat, but he caught me with ease.
“You telegraphed that from a mile away. Work on it in the mirror, and we’ll practice more tomorrow.”
I put my hands on my hips and glared at him. “I ask you one little question about your past and you shut down and ditch on training?”
“Training was over half an hour ago. You need to work on paying more attention to your surroundings.” Without another word, he strolled out of the foyer.
“Is there anything I don’t need to work on?” I grumbled to myself.
“Your bedroom skills are spot on.” Nate walked up behind me and dropped a kiss on my neck.
“I’m all sweaty.”
He growled in my ear and bit the lobe. “I’d lick you all over.”
A shiver went through me as he ran his hands down to my hips.
“Too bad I have an interrogation to carry out.”
All the blood drained from my face and the tips of my ears went cold. “The basement?”
“Not this time.” He hesitated and seemed to be having a silent argument with himself based on the way his eyebrows pulled together.
“What is it?”
He gave a small shrug as if admitting defeat in his mental disagreement. “You said you want to be a part of this, and I’m done trying to tell you what you should and shouldn’t do. So, if you’d like to sit in, then you are welcome to.”
I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I shower really quick and change first?”
He slapped my ass. “Yes, but hurry up before I change my mind.”
Ten minutes later, I was showered and sitting on one of the couches in Nate’s office, a legal pad and a pen in my hand.
Nate sat at his desk and took me in with a long look. “If you’d add some heels to the outfit, we could play naughty secretary.”
I glanced down at my white button-up top and gray skirt. “You guys are always dressed up, so I figured I would fit right in.”
“Come sit on my lap. I’ve got something for you that will fit right in.”
I bit my lip as footsteps echoed in the hallway. Nate schooled his features, trading his cocky grin for an expression of stone.
Peter walked in with a stranger. The man was tall and thin, possibly mid-forties, with scraggly dark hair. He wore a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt with a “Dandy Tuna” logo on it. Despite his bedraggled appearance, he gave me a wink.
Nate stood and pointed to the single chair that had been set in front of his desk. “Yuri, have a seat.”
Yuri obeyed, sighing as he sank into the wooden chair. I wrote Yuri’s name at the top of my legal pad.
Peter stood in the doorway, his right hand resting on his belt. I’d quickly learned that this stance allowed him to reach for his weapon with lethal quickness.
Nate sat. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No. I already had a good breakfast thanks to you.”
“You’re quite welcome.” Though his sentiment was polite, Nate resembled a shark with a tasty piece of meat in front of it. “Let’s talk about Dmitri.”
Yuri scratched his head. “To be honest with you—”
“Let me stop you right there. Whenever someone says ‘to be honest with you,’ the next words out of their mouth are often a lie.” Nate’s smile was cold. “I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot with you. And I’m sure you want to make a good impression. My friend Peter over there?” He gestured toward the door where Peter pushed back his jacket to reveal the black butt of his pistol. “He’s particularly good at figuring out when someone is lying. And he doesn’t like liars. Not one bit.”
Peter tapped the butt of his gun for emphasis.
“So let’s start this over again, shall we?” Nate drummed his fingers on the desk. “Tell me about Dmitri.”
Yuri rested his hands on the arms of his chair, but he couldn’t hide the tremor that shook his fingers. “I’ll tell you what I know. Okay? I was hired by Dmitri over a year ago. I come from a long line of tugboat captains in Russia. My brother and I came to America as teenagers. He’s in the Coast Guard, and I’m well known on the waterfront. I have a lot of connections with the shipping people. Dmitri found out about all of that, and he came to me with an offer. Okay?”