“Welcome to the Eve’s Apple,” the woman purred, her eyes hungry on Alexei. And her smile! It was so bright, it might power the entire club.
A strangled laugh bubbled in my throat, but I quickly swallowed it.That fucking name is so goddamn stupid!
Alexei’s big hand on the small of my back nudged me forward. I took a step, heading toward a hallway with burgundy walls and a mirrored ceiling. That, with the dim lights, gave it some serious porn set vibes.
We kept on walking until we made it to the end of the hallway, which opened up to a large room with a bar to the right. The room was painted black with dark crimson accents, from thick oriental rugs hanging off the walls, to the red marble floors, to the ruby chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
My eyes traveled over the people in the room. They were mingling, men’s eyes hungry on the women, as if they were shopping.
“Drink?” Alexei’s frigid voice brought my attention back to him. I nodded, when in fact I just wanted to shout,“FBI motherfuckers, where is this goddamn Igor?”
We walked through the crowds, and it was impossible not to notice the leers from women and men alike. Despite my dislike of Alexei, I found myself stepping closer to him. I didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, and he better not get a bright idea and leave me alone for one bloody second.
As we sat down on the barstools, he signaled the bartender.
“Vodka spritz for the lady and cognac for me.” Alexei’s voice was disinterested and cold, with a hint of timbre. I gave him a fleeting look, that little scar on his lip somehow fascinating. I often wondered how he got it.
The moment the drinks were brought, I reached for mine like a lifeline and took a gulp of it. I’d need it tonight. I glanced around the room and suddenly felt Alexei’s lips against my earlobe.
“No eye contact.” His breath was hot against my skin. “Otherwise, it’s an invitation.”
My eyes widened, and I immediately returned my gaze to him. We were here as a supposed couple. That was bad enough; I wasn’t interested in inviting any additional attention from other men.
Another drink was placed in front of me.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I muttered under my breath. I gulped down my second drink. Before I could even open my mouth, a third drink was placed in front of me. I didn’t grab it; otherwise, I’d be on my way to getting drunk.
“Alexei Nikolaev.” A heavily accented voice came from behind us, a big hand landing on my shoulder. I flinched at the unfamiliar touch.
Alexei uttered something in Russian, his voice unmoving and the cold tenor unmistakable.
A shiver ghosted down my spine. Before I could blink, the man’s hand fell from my shoulder.
“Are you enjoying the club?” The man asked us both, but his eyes never wavered from me. He was leering at me and not even trying to hide it.
I cleared my throat. “It’s great,” I answered, forcing a smile.
Alexei stood unmoving, his eyes locked on the man with professional disinterest.
“Introduce us, Alexei.”
“Aurora. Igor.” The way my name rolled off Alexei’s lips did something to me.
Igor the Peeper was pretty much undressing me with his eyes, giving me the creeps. Alexei must have seen the same because his hand came to rest on my thigh, and his heat had me fighting back a delightful shiver.
Wait. What?
“Would you like a tour, Aurora?” Igor offered, his eyes never leaving me.
My hand covered Alexei’s and I patted it awkwardly. “Ah, thank you. Alexei already offered.” I smiled sweetly. At least I hoped it was a passable, sweet smile.
Igor smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Who was this Igor? Something about him rubbed me the wrong way. I went through Ivan Petrov’s file in my head, but I didn’t recall the name Igor nor his face in the records.
According to the Nikolaev men, Igor was our ticket to get to Ivan Petrov. Supposedly he was part of Petrov's inner circle. The part that concerned me was that I didn’t know the connection between the Nikolaev men and this guy and Ivan Petrov. The FBI had never even heard of Igor.
Granted, I had only recently received this case. I took it on for personal reasons and I suspected I’d been paired with Alexei Nikolaev because I was the only younger female in our office. My tender age of twenty-five usually worked against me, until they needed someone for a sex club. Fuckers!
I scanned over Igor memorizing his features. I’d go through the FBI database later and see if I could get any kind of match. His hair was dark, cut short, military style. He wasn’t bad looking, until you locked eyes with him. His eyes were dark, almost black, and something unnerving in his gaze didn’t quite sit well with me.