From Russia With Claws (10 page)

As soon as her father had given her the go ahead, she’d put the word out to those art collectors who were known to use black market methods of acquisition. Mr. Pleshenko was the first to contact her.

She made her way to Sergei’s old office as she waited for Pleshenko to pick up. “Good afternoon,” she greeted when he answered her call. “It’s Galina Sudenko, returning your call.”

“Ah, Ms. Sudenko! A pleasure to hear from you.” He launched into rapid-fire Russian, telling her about his purchase from a local art gallery Galina often frequented.

She closed the door to Sergei’s office. The last thing she wanted was to involve Irina in anything else illegal. Bad enough that her sister already dealt in Papa’s stolen gemstones. Galina didn’t want to drag Irina in any deeper.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Pleshenko?” she asked, speaking Russian as well.

“I have a hole in my collection,” he began. “You know how distressing that can be, I’m sure.”

“Of course. Can you give me the specifics on what you are looking for?” As he rattled off his wish list, Galina made mental notes. She would put the word out to her contacts who worked in areas with recently discovered historical finds. There were also a few other collectors who might be interested in similar items; she could contact them as well, in case Pleshenko backed out.

She hung up a few minutes later, feeling flush with success. Since crowing from the rooftops wasn’t an option, Galina returned to the living room to snag the joint from Franny as it made the rounds. Irina’s eyes were already glassy.

She passed the joint to Franny. Pot didn’t really hit her like it did regular humans because of her werewolf metabolism. She usually wound up feeling a little sleepy, and that was if she felt anything at all.

Franny slid a nine-by-thirteen pan of chocolate frosted brownies across the table. “And because I know that we’re dealing with varying metabolisms, I brought special brownies for milady.”

“Are these what I hope they are?” Franny would know to make it with twice the normal amount of hash oil to counter Galina’s high metabolism.

Two hours later, Galina was on her second order from Hunan Palace. Having demolished the entire pan of brownies, she’d begun suffering the werewolf version of the munchies. So she’d called the Palace and ordered everything on Column A to be rush delivered to Irina’s house. She’d polished it all off in much the same way that typhoons destroyed coastal villages, not sharing a single grain of rice for the others. Then she called to order everything on Column B.

Galina met Nik at the door as she accepted the second load of bags from the delivery guy. He was pulling off his tie and looked like he hadn’t slept in three days. He eyed the bags with hunger as Galina began unloading the cartons on the kitchen island, and said, “Papa sent me to check on you. I’m starving.”

When Nik tried to grab a crystal prawn from one of the little paper cartons, Galina snatched it out of his grasp with a throaty growl.

He raised his eyebrows and rubbed at his hand in mock hurt. “You’re not going to share?”

Galina shoveled a forkful of beef and broccoli into her mouth. “I ate an entire pan of Franny’s pot brownies,” she said around her mouthful of food. “I’m hungry.”

Nik sniffed, his sensitive nose picking up the burning tar aroma. “There were special brownies?” Galina nodded. “And you didn’t save me any?” Again she nodded. “You bitch.”

“Not sorry,” she said with a grin.

Galina gathered up as many of the cartons as she could reasonably carry and followed her brother into the living room. Nik wrapped his arms around Irina, who was plowing through a bag of nacho cheese Doritos and a piece of chocolate bobka. “Wow, you smell like weed,” Nik said, nose wrinkling. “A lot of weed.”

“I got a lot high,” Irina said with a lazy grin. “It was Galina and Franny’s idea. They are a very bad influence on me. Always have been.”

“And we’re not even sorry,” Franny said, echoing Galina’s earlier statement. She continued smearing peanut butter all over an Oreo.

The doorbell rang. Everyone looked at Galina. She shrugged. “I don’t think I ordered anything else. Maybe the delivery guy forgot something.”

She dragged herself off the couch, taking a carton of food in each hand. Before she left, she speared her brother with a look. “If you so much as touch a bite of my lo mein, you will draw back a nub.”

She padded to the door, upending one of the cartons of fried rice to get another mouthful before answering it. Konstantin stood on the front step holding what was, quite possibly, the largest floral arrangement ever created by human hands. Galina stared at him for a moment, then turned up the other carton into her mouth.

“Mr. Lupesco sends these for Mrs. Volkov.” Konstantin stood there awkwardly, obviously waiting for something.

Galina chewed absently. He had that same leashed power that Andrey had, but he was wearing the most amazingly tailored suit she’d ever seen. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, his designer shoes polished to a high shine. Everything about him was calm and neat except his brown eyes. There was a wildness in them that reminded her very much of Andrey. When he just kept standing there, she raised her brows and said, “What?”

“Can I come in and put these down?” He watched her strangely.

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” She held the door wide so he could get the floral monstrosity inside. “Just put it in the kitchen, I guess.” Galina lifted a carton to her mouth again and followed him.

Nik met them in the hallway. “I was just coming to see what was taking so long,” he said, then caught sight of the flowers. “Christ, who sent the flower shop?”

“That would be Andrey Lupesco.” She took the giant vase of lilies, orchids, and various other heavily scented blooms from Konstantin and placed them on Irina’s kitchen table. When she turned back to her brother, she found him staring unabashedly at Andrey’s bodyguard. She ducked her head to hide a smile. Her brother didn’t usually stare so openly, but it had been a strange day.

“Nik, this is Konstantin. He works for Mr. Lupesco.” She crossed to her brother so she could gauge Konstantin’s reaction.

Nik put his hand out and the two shook. Nik was more relaxed than he was normally, probably due to Franny’s kind bud. Konstantin’s brown eyes lit up when their hands touched and the two men stared at each other for several very long seconds. Galina was beginning to wonder if she was going to have to get the jaws of life to pry their hands apart, when Nik abruptly let go.

“Hey, Irina,” he called, a nervous edge to his voice. “You got some flowers.”

Galina raised her eyebrows. Very interesting. Her brother was hardly ever flustered. He was now. Being gay in a family and organization that prized masculinity above all else wasn’t something you wanted to become public knowledge, and Nik was careful to make sure nary a whiff of his sexual orientation was discovered. If you didn’t know Nikolai, you’d never know it, but Galina knew her brother very well.

Irina arrived in the kitchen, her eyes a little glazed. “Holy shit,” she said when she spotted the arrangement that towered atop her kitchen table. “Well, if there’s a lily shortage along the western seaboard, we know why.” Then she realized that Konstantin was standing there, looking at all of them like they were escapees from a mental institution.

“They’re from Andrey Lupesco,” Galina helpfully supplied, enjoying the awkwardness of the situation probably more than she should.

Irina straightened her Seahawks jersey and yoga pants. “Please send Mr. Lupesco my thanks. The flowers are lovely.”

“He’s sorry he missed the opportunity to speak to you at the funeral. He was hoping to pass on his condolences personally.” Konstantin’s eyes skipped over to Galina. She raised a Chinese food carton as if toasting him and then shoved the remaining food in her mouth with a pair of chopsticks. She saw his lips twitch as he tried to hold back a smile. She could only imagine what this scene looked like to an outsider.

“I’ll be going,” he said as a way of making his escape. “Mrs. Volkov. Miss Sudenko.” He inclined his head to Galina. She waved her fingers at him. “Mrs. Volkov’s friend.”

Konstantin took a step closer to Nikolai and held out his hand. “Mr. Sudenko.”

Nik looked around the room, as if he didn’t know what to do. “Call me Nik,” he finally said, taking Konstantin’s hand and shaking it.

“I’ll see you out,” Galina interrupted, curious about something. She wanted to get Konstantin away from all of the competing scents in the kitchen. She waited for Nik to release his hand, then led the bodyguard back to the front door.

She opened it wide, following him out to the front step. The air was clear here, uncluttered by the stink of pot smoke and lilies. Galina sniffed lightly, not wanting to make Konstantin aware that she was trying to get a scent-read off of him. What she smelled made her smile. “Tell Mr. Lupesco thanks again,” was all she said as she walked him to his car.

“You can be sure I’ll tell him,” Konstantin replied, looking like he was fighting to keep from laughing.

She waited until he turned out of Irina’s driveway before running back into the house. The others had gathered around what food remained from Galina’s Column B order and were scarfing it down as quickly as possible. She couldn’t even find it in her to be mad.

“He
likes
you!” she shouted at Nik, who was cleaning the meat from the bones of a tin of Chinese spareribs.

“What are you talking about?” Irina asked, dusting Dorito crumbs from her T-shirt.

Galina whooped, grabbing Nikolai and giving him a huge hug. “Konstantin.” She grinned up at her brother. “He totally has the hots for Nik!”

“How can you possibly know that?” Franny asked, popping a shrimp into her mouth.

Galina looked at Nik. He was staring at her, a gobsmacked expression on his face. A rib hung forgotten in his fingers. She plucked it out of his slack grip and cleaned it of meat in one smooth motion. “Oh, these are really good.” She turned back to Franny. “I smelled it on him.”

Nik stood up, wiping his mouth with a napkin and licking the barbeque sauce from his fingers. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” He dropped the napkin into an empty carton and grabbed his jacket from the end of the couch.

Galina shared a confused look with Irina, then went after their brother. “Hey, what’s the matter?” she said as she caught up with him at the door. “I thought you’d be happy about it.”

“We’re not having this conversation,” he said, pulling the door open.

Galina put her hand out, pushing the door closed. “Why not?” She met her brother’s dark eyes. “Nik, this is a good thing!”

He put his large hand over hers, a small, sad smile on his face. “How is it a good thing, Galya? I can’t see him publicly. He works for the head of a competing family. If I were going to pick someone to be with, he’d be at the bottom of my list.”

Galina pulled her hand out from under his. She knew why he couldn’t go public with Konstantin, and she wasn’t suggesting that he do so. It was kind of like the way things had to be with her and Andrey. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun. “Do you not like him?”

“I don’t know him. But it’s not about whether I do or don’t like him. I’m the son of Ilya Sudenko. It’s just not something I can do.” He leaned down and gave Galina a light kiss on the cheek, and then disappeared out the front door.

When Galina returned to the kitchen, she threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. “Our brother is a stubborn horse’s ass…wolf’s ass…mule.”

Franny emptied the last of the shrimp carton into her mouth. “Okay, now you’re just naming random animals.”

Sex Bomb at the Black Swan

G
ALINA
P
ULLED
I
NTO
T
HE
P
ARKING
L
OT
of the Black Swan Inn and stepped out of the car. The meeting at Papa’s house hadn’t been productive and Galina couldn’t help wondering if it had been because she’d been seated at the table. She imagined it had made some people uncomfortable.

Too bad. They may as well get used to the idea of her. She was there to stay.

Predictably, Alexei shunned her as if she was a plague carrier. Her reception by the other leaders was lukewarm. At best. The Volkov representative seemed confused by her presence, but she didn’t expect much from a family that was neither bright nor particularly bold. They preferred the status quo to anything that required effort. The head of the Oniayev family eyed her cautiously. They would wait for everyone else to decide if they accepted her or not before throwing in with the winning side. The Demensky family representative welcomed her, if not warmly, then at least without immediate derision.

Support had come from Andrey. While not overly warm, he was polite and civil, allowing her to express her opinions and giving her thoughts consideration as if she were an equal. He didn’t have to do that and she hoped it wasn’t just because she’d given him a stellar blowjob.

At least Maksim hadn’t been invited. He was still considered an outsider. Galina wondered what would happen if she did have to marry him. Would she be cut out of the business entirely, even the art smuggling line that she had started? Or would Maksim be given a spot in the Organization? She couldn’t decide which would be worse.

Now that the funeral for Sergei was over, Galina had some headspace to think about the circumstances of his death. She hadn’t yet had a chance to examine the scene of the shooting. Everything had been so crazy after Sergei was taken away, and she’d wanted to get to Irina at the hospital. Now that the crime scene tape was gone, she wanted to poke around to see if she could find any clues to who might have been behind it. She didn’t expect to find any scents, certainly not at this late date.

But things weren’t adding up. No one had heard about a hit, there was no one moving in on Sudenko territory, and none of the usual bravos were bragging. The only one who had a problem with Sergei, at least as far as Galina knew, was the man she was hooking up with behind her family’s backs. He certainly could have ordered a hit, but the timing was off. Why assassinate a man you’ve just beaten to a pulp?

The police had questioned everyone at the scene. She’d given them a statement when they’d come by to question Irina again. No one had seen anything other than the color of the car. The police had no leads, and even if they’d been able to come up with anything, Galina was certain that her father and the other leaders would block anything from coming to light. A random murder involving silver bullets? That was a good way to start tongues wagging and garner attention none of them wanted.

She studied the tire marks, tracking the car’s progress by the tracks. Lining up with where the shooter must have first fired.

“Galina.” Andrey’s voice sounded behind her.

She turned from her study of the scene of the shooting, arms crossed over her chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I followed you from your father’s house.” He stopped several feet from her. “What are
you
doing here?”

“That doesn’t sound stalkery at all.” She narrowed green eyes at him.

“Galya.” The sternness in his voice sent a thrill through the core of her.

“Andrey.” They stared at each other for several minutes. When the silence became too great, she said, “And now that we’ve proven that we know each other’s names, are we going to stop with the staring contest?”

“Are you going to answer my question?” He took a step toward her, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Not deigning to answer, she presented him with her back. Rude, perhaps, but she didn’t have time for this. She’d managed to ditch her security detail, but she didn’t know for how long. When she left her father’s house after the meeting, Andrey, as well as the other heads of the families were still talking to Papa. She’d wanted some time alone at the Black Swan.

She felt Andrey approach, looming over her shoulder. His voice was soft, but there was a threatening edge to it. Instead of scaring Galina, it sent a shiver of desire down her spine. She clenched her thighs, feeling heat pool in her belly. It was obscene how easily he turned her on.

“I’ll tell you what I think.” His breath was a blast of heat against her neck. “I think you’re sticking your nose in something dangerous. I think you’re out here, trying to track down Sergei’s killer.” His hand snaked around her waist and he inhaled into her hair. “And I think you could get yourself into serious trouble if you’re not careful.”

Galina spun, breaking away from him, a sliver of fear sliding through her. Had he just threatened her? “Duly noted.” She began to climb the stairs to the entrance of the Inn. “But I have work to do.”

She walked past the front desk and into the bar. There were only a few customers scattered around the room, nursing their drinks. As she approached the bar, she saw the lone cocktail waitress adjusting the short black skirt she wore that barely covered her ass.

Galina stopped. It was the same waitress who had left with Sergei at the party. Same heart-shaped face, same black hair, same doe eyes. She was, at most, twenty years old. Taking a seat, Galina waved the young woman over. The waitress sauntered to the table, a worried frown on her pretty face. Taking a fifty out of her wallet, Galina gestured for the other woman to sit.

“You were working a party here—a Sweet Sixteen birthday party maybe five days ago. Do you remember?” Galina caught and held the waitress’s eyes with her own. The woman nodded reluctantly. “Do you remember the man who went outside with you?”

The woman’s eyes widened. She moved to get up, but Galina caught her wrist, squeezing it tightly. The waitress blanched and sat back down. “Yeah.”

Galina released her wrist and subsided back into her seat. “You’re not in trouble. I just want you to tell me the truth.” She paused and waited for the woman across from her to nod. “So you remember the guy, right? Did he say anything to you?”

The waitress shook her head. “Not really. I was told to find the guy and get him to go outside with me. That’s all.”

Galina sat up straighter. “You were told? Who told you?”

“Just some guy. Tall. Dark hair. Hot. He gave me a hundred bucks to get the guy alone.” Her hands twisted around each other on top of the scarred wooden table.

“Anything else you can tell me about him?” Galina leaned forward slightly.

The waitress’s eyes widened. “If you turn around, he just walked in.”

Galina did so, her heart sinking. Andrey stood at the threshold of the bar, glaring at her. “Him?”

“Yeah.” The waitress stood. “He gave me the money and told me to get the guy alone. So I did and then I came back inside.” She looked nervously at where Andrey still stood. “Can I go now?”

Galina nodded, feeling a churning in her gut. The timeline still didn’t add up, but Andrey had threatened Sergei. And Sergei had stolen something from him. Would he have been angry enough to call in a hit? How would he get it done so fast? And what was he doing, hanging around with her if he had?

She got up, intending to walk out the other side of the bar. She stepped into the hallway, moving quickly, but Andrey caught up to her in two steps. “Galina, wait.” He tried to put his hand on her arm, but she brushed him off.

“No.” Galina didn’t want to be there anymore. She wanted some space to think.

“Damn it,” Andrey cursed. He grabbed her upper arm and half-walked, half-pushed her toward the elevators. He pushed the up button, hustling her into it when the doors opened.

“I’m going to talk. And you’re going to listen,” he warned, scowling at her. His eyes snapped blue sparks as his brows lowered in a fierce frown.

“Oh yes,” Galina snapped, yanking her arm away from him and putting her back to the wall. “Because shoving me into an elevator and ignoring what I want is a great way to get me to do that.”

“I swear to God, Galina,” he began, then stopped when the doors slid open. He took her by the arm again, leading her to a room. He stuck the key card into the reader, then pushed open the door.

She stalked inside, torn between anger and curiosity. She did want to hear what Andrey had to say, but she did not approve of his methods. “If you ever touch me like that again, I’ll make sure you never have to worry about laying hands on a woman because you won’t have them.” Her words were even and calm, but the undercurrent of rage was plain to hear.

Andrey closed the door and tucked the key card into his jacket pocket. “I didn’t kill Sergei.”

“I never said you did.” Galina walked farther in the room, keeping well clear of the king size bed that dominated much of the space.

“You’re thinking it.” Andrey ran a hand through his hair once again. Galina recognized this was his tell when he was frustrated. She was inordinately pleased that she had gotten to him.

“No, I’m not thinking you killed him.” She swept a piece of her long blond hair behind her ear. “I’m wondering if you hired someone to
have
him killed. Completely different things.” Galina smiled at him. She wasn’t worried that he’d hurt her, not if he wanted to stay on the good side of the Sudenko family.

Andrey made a noise that was part sigh and part growl. He crossed the room in three quick strides to stop so close to her that she could feel the heat coming off him. “You are the most infuriating woman I have ever met!”

“And I’m pretty cute too.”

She was pretty sure that Andrey was
this
close to a face palm. She couldn’t help herself. He smelled absolutely delectable when he was angry.

“If I swear to you that I was in no way responsible for Sergei’s death, will you believe me?” His blue eyes locked with hers.

Galina tuned her senses to him. His heart beat was steady, no spike to indicate he was lying. His scent was the same spicy-pine scent that she liked. It had no sour tang that came when someone lied. And he met her eyes, not blinking, holding hers. “I believe you.”

“Good,” he said. Before she could think, he’d taken her upper arms and pulled her to him, his mouth covering hers in a bruising kiss.

Galina felt her insides ignite when her lips met his. Blazing heat curled around her pelvis, skimming across her nerves. Her mouth opened beneath his, lips parting to allow his tongue to meet with hers. He tasted like the bourbon he’d had in the meeting at her father’s house. She sucked at his tongue, lightly scraping it with her teeth.

His mouth left hers only to trail down her throat, nuzzling as he went. Galina let her head fall back, closing her eyes so she could revel in the sensations of wet heat. He nudged away the collar of her blouse to continue to trace his lips and tongue along her collarbone. She made a thin noise in the back of her throat when his teeth closed over the flesh and bone there, worrying it lightly. The smell of her arousal hit her nose, a heady scent when combined with his.

Andrey slipped off his jacket and threw it on a nearby chair, then kissed her again. This kiss was harsh, powerful, all heat and need. He sucked her tongue into his mouth, his own stroking it. Galina felt her pussy clench and release, throbbing with want.

Her hands traced the line of his shoulders. She worked at loosening his tie, their mouths still connected as they both fumbled with each other’s clothes like they were inexperienced teenagers. All Galina wanted was to feel his naked flesh pressed against hers, his cock inside of her making her feel full.

Andrey broke off their kiss to yank his tie over his head. Galina unbuttoned his shirt, yanking it down off his shoulders as soon as she had it free. A leather necklace with a series of charms rested against his skin. His chest was taut muscle and smooth flesh with a dusting of dark hair. She lowered her mouth to his nipple, swirling her tongue around the peak.

His hands clenched in her hair. “Galya,” he whispered in a hoarse voice.

She loved that sound. She wanted to hear his voice break in pleasure. It sent a pulsing deep inside of her. She sucked hard on his nipple feeling it stiffen even further in her mouth, before scraping her teeth across it. He hissed, pulling her head up and away from his flesh.

Claiming her mouth, Andrey’s fingers went to work on the buttons of her blouse. He cursed when the cloth coverings made unbuttoning them difficult.

“Rip it,” Galina said against his mouth.

Andrey’s head drew back. “You sure?” His blue eyes were hooded and sleepy looking with lust.

“Rip the fucking shirt,” she growled, wanting his hands on her and not caring about fabric at a time like this. She could buy another shirt. What she did not have was him inside of her.

His big hands grabbed the lapels of her blouse and yanked, tearing the fabric as if it were newspaper. Galina shrugged out of the sleeves, dropping the scraps of cloth that used to be a shirt to the floor. Her panties were soaked as the heat inside of her threatened to combust.

She wriggled out of the camisole top and stood before him in bra and pants. Andrey’s gaze slid across her, so intense she could almost feel it, like a caress. They stared at each other for a moment, then Andrey reached out, pulling her bra strap down and pressing a kiss to the top of her shoulder.

“You are gorgeous.” He lapped at the hollow of her shoulder.

She reached for his belt, but he stopped her hands. Instead, he undid the button and zipper on her pants, pushing them down to pool around her feet. She slid her feet out of her heels and then Andrey was lifting her out of her clothes, his hands wrapping around her waist. He placed her down next to the bed, pulling her against his body.

“Andrey,” she whispered, looking up at him, wondering what he was thinking.

He brushed his lips against hers. Galina tried to drag his head down to deepen the kiss, but he pulled her arms away. Then he dropped to his knees. He pressed his face to her mound, pulling her panties aside with one finger. He inhaled deeply. “God damn, I love the way you smell.”