A love that Yan can’t reciprocate outside of sex.
My stomach feels strangely tight at the thought, so I force it away, push it deep down where it can’t hurt me. Turning in my seat, I fold my arms around Ilya’s big frame. I’m not good with emotions either, but I can give him this, try to make him feel better at least for this one short moment.
His big frame is tense at first, but then he relaxes, the air escaping his lungs in a sigh as he lays his head on my shoulder. Awkwardly, I pat his back, then pull away, releasing him.
“You’re a nice guy, Ilya,” I say softly when his green eyes meet mine. “I like you. I really do.”
“But not like that?”
“No, not like that.”
He sighs and rubs the tattoo above his right ear. “If that changes, let me know.”
I punch him playfully. “Don’t hold your breath.”
“Hey.” He gives me a mock-frown. “I appreciate your honesty, but you could hold back just a little. Rejection stings.”
Despite his words, his tone is light, so I grin at him. “You’re a big man. You can handle it.”
He grins back. “Maybe, but I don’t get why Yan is so selfish when it comes to you. He’s never behaved like this with a woman.”
My smile fades. Discussing Yan makes me edgy, as does thinking about the reasons for his possessive behavior.
Like Ilya just said, Yan doesn’t give affection easily, so whatever’s between us can’t be more than just hot sex.
Thankfully, Ilya seems oblivious to my change in mood. “Are you sure I can’t fix you breakfast?” he asks, still grinning. “It’s no trouble, I promise.”
I think fast. This is an opportunity I can’t waste. I may not get another chance. Pasting on a smile, I say, “If you don’t mind, I’d rather go out for breakfast. I’m developing cabin fever.”
Understanding flashes in his eyes. “Is that why you’ve been acting so under the weather?” He stands and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair. “There’s a place nearby that makes mean pastries.”
Laying a hand on his arm, I say quietly, “Alone.”
He stills with a bewildered look.
“I need some time on my own. It’s hard to process everything that’s happened.”
He frowns. “Look, I know you have a lot on your plate, but—”
“Where am I going to go with a tracker embedded in my neck?”
The manipulation works. Guilt splashes over his features, stark and remorseful. I feel bad for deceiving him, but what choice do I have?
Slowly, he lowers the jacket. “Yan won’t like it.”
“He doesn’t have to know.”
Guilt transforms into doubt. “I don’t know.”
“Please, Ilya.” I get to my feet and grip his hand, staring at him with all the begging I can muster. “I’m not going to run.” At least, not for long.
After a moment’s hesitation, his shoulders sag. “Fine, but you come back here. Don’t make me call Yan in the middle of his meeting.”
“I’ll come back.” It’s a given, a part of my life I no longer have control over. Awkwardly, I add, “I’ll need some money.”
“Oh. Of course.” He reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and takes out a few bills, enough for ten generous breakfasts. “Here you go.”
Rising on tiptoes, I kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
His smile is uncertain.
Before he can change his mind, I pull on a sweater and rush outside. I force myself to walk normally in case he’s looking through the window.
The minute I round the corner, I run.
18
Yan
It doesn’t take long to convince the government agent to cooperate. He’s not in favor of involving a prominent civilian, but he knows getting the Hotel Paris manager to work with us is our best bet.
We go through our plan with him. Mina, disguised as Natasha Petrova, will arrive with the fake da Vinci in a crate in case Dimitrov has the hotel watched, which I expect him to do. He’d be a fool not to, and the crime lord didn’t get to the top of the drug business by being a fool. Anton will accompany Mina, as Dimitrov will expect her to have a bodyguard. The hotel manager will let Petrova and her entourage—which will include Anton, Ilya, and me—use a private entrance to walk in unnoticed, something else Dimitrov will expect. A famous socialite like Petrova will demand privacy, and the hotel will happily oblige. She’s a frequent client, after all. The secrecy will reassure Dimitrov that the sale of the art will remain discreet.
Ilya and I will be disguised as transporters. Our job will be to carry the crate and open it in the Klimt suite. We could’ve gotten real transporters, but I want to make sure Mina gets in safely and that nothing is out of place. Once that’s done, Ilya and I will leave, making sure our exit is caught on camera. Timing is of the utmost importance. We’ll enter the elevator in which there is no security camera. Two hotel guards disguised as us will be already inside. We’ll exchange clothes, our company overalls for their suits, and hand over the keys for the delivery van.
They’ll get out on the ground floor and leave in the van in which we arrived. Dimitrov will have men outside watching. They will inform him of the transporters’ departure, and Ilya and I will exit on the rooftop, where we’ll have stored a rope and detachable sniper rifles. We’ll set up the rifles and use the rope to climb down to the balcony of the Klimt suite. It will be a tricky descent, but we’ve done more dangerous stunts. Then we’ll get into position and wait.
In the meantime, Dimitrov and his team will arrive. Dimitrov’s guards will be heavily armed. They’ll sweep the suite before allowing Dimitrov inside to ensure there’s no one besides Mina—a.k.a. Natasha—and her bodyguard, no hidden weapons or planted bugs, and, of course, that the painting is there. They’ll search Mina
