“Yeah, Lotus, Fyodor puts Evangeline first always.”
“Says a lot about him. And you were so right, this coffee is good. If it wasn’t for the beignets at the Café Du Monde, we would have to move here.” She took a bite of an apricot scone. “Seriously, Gedeon, think about it, I could learn to fly a plane.”
“I have a pilot’s license,” he admitted.
Her head jerked up and she narrowed her eyes at him. Those dark eyes that looked like two liquid pools of water he could drown in. She had a beautiful face. He often stared at the oval delicacy of it. The way her bones appeared so fragile, the high cheekbones and aristocratic nose and that chin that drew his attention like a magnet. He wanted to shape her face with his hands, run his fingers over her petal-soft skin, trace her full lips and commit every detail to memory over and over. He was tactile with her—not with anyone else, just Meiling.
“That is withholding important information. Do you own a plane?”
“I do. It’s a small plane. Nothing fancy. I bought it for fun, not for going from one country to another.”
“In the grand scheme of things, Mr. Volkov, having a plane and a pilot’s license would come in very handy if I were in desperate need of an apricot scone and great coffee one morning after putting up with your annoying two a.m. calls so you can get decent sleep because Mr. Sinister is acting up.”
He struggled not to laugh. She was hilarious. “Mr. Sinister?”
“Well, he’s not Mr. Bojangles, and you shot down Mr. Sparkles, which was a perfectly good name. I could have shortened it to Sparky.” She took another bite of the apricot scone and closed her eyes as if savoring the pastry.
Her long black lashes feathered in a crescent against her skin. He found it sexy. His body stirred again, and he had to force himself to look away from her. God help him if she moaned. He wasn’t the only one looking at her. Kyanite and Rodion were looking too. For one terrible moment, that murderous part of him he always kept contained rose up, threatening to take over. That didn’t happen on a job. Never out in public, especially when he knew he was being observed.
Behind the counter, where Evangeline helped a customer, the double doors leading to the kitchen opened and a tall man with wide shoulders, scars on his face and cold, flat eyes emerged. Almost at the same time, Meiling rose. “I’m heading to the ladies’ room and then getting more coffee before we start work. Do you want anything?”
“Order me another as well,” Gedeon said. He’d chosen the right woman. She was astute. Smooth. So natural, no one could fault her. He watched her walk to the room marked for women, her hips swaying gently. Rodion and Kyanite didn’t take their gazes off her either until the door closed, cutting off their view.
7
GEDEON rose as Timur Amurov came to the table. Timur was Fyodor’s brother and his number-one security man. Extending his hand, he gripped Timur’s and gave him a shark’s smile. “Good to see you again. How are things going?”
Timur waved him to a seat and sank into the one opposite him. “That depends on what you have to say, Gedeon.”
“Came here first to let you know I’m in town on business, but it has nothing to do with you or yours. If at any point it looks as if it’s going in that direction, I’ll inform you.”
“Before or after you take out the offenders?”
“I may have to come to you for information on this one.” Gedeon chose his words carefully. The Amurovs knew his reputation. He’d always treated them with respect. He treated everyone with respect—until they didn’t deserve it.
Meiling emerged from the restroom and then slowly made her way over to the counter. When she did, she managed to make it seem very natural to place herself at Timur’s back. First, she ordered the coffees, laughing with Evangeline. Her laughter was contagious, a beautiful sound that turned heads, including Timur’s.
“She yours?” he asked.
“My partner. We keep that on the down low. It’s safer for her that way and more effective for our partnership.”
“She leopard?”
“Yes, although her leopard is being stubborn.”
“What information do you need, Gedeon?”
Gedeon rubbed at his temple, making a determined effort to keep his hand away from the network of spiderweb scars he’d been left with around his eyes. Timur wouldn’t fail to notice them, or the fact that Gedeon spent far too much time putting his sunglasses on and then removing them. The light hanging just overhead bothered him. It was just that much too bright. He didn’t like wearing the darker sunglasses indoors because they drew attention. They also inhibited his vision, and in a lair like the Amurovs’, he needed to be able to see everything.