Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
Jasmine
B eing in a restaurant felt like being let out of prison, and I owed it all to the coconspirator at my side. Her desire for spicy food had Camila and I sitting in one of the nicest Mexican restaurants in Kansas City. The bar in front of us was lined with the best of the best, top-shelf liquors. Our plates held varying degrees of spicy dishes. Even the aroma of Camila’s enchilada made my eyes water. I opted for something less fiery. We also enjoyed chips and queso.
The margarita was a welcome surprise. Dario didn’t mind if I drank wine in the security of the penthouse, but being only twenty, my drinking out in public was frowned upon. I wasn’t certain how Camila did it. When the bartender asked for our IDs, she said something to him in Spanish. The next thing I realized, we were being served. The large glass filled with frozen margarita brought a smile to my face and a scowl to our bodyguards’ lips.
“It’s not like either one of us is driving,” Camila whispered.
Truly, after the last twenty-four hours, drowning in a margarita seemed like my best fate. It wasn’t like I had many options with Giovanni and Piero standing patrol.
Camila took another sip of her margarita. “It’s nice to get out of the apartment sometimes.” She turned to me. “I hate when Dante works all the time. I get that he’s busy. I’m glad I have my classes. Still” —she pouted— “I feel like I hardly see him.” Placing her hand over mine, she smiled. “I’m glad you’re home. I’d be bored without you.”
“It is nice to get out of that prison.” I reached for what was left of my margarita and swirled the ice. “I wish we could do it without our shadows.” As I swiveled to look at Piero, I accidently bumped into the man to my right. Maybe if he wasn’t so close... Turning, I saw the lightest blue eyes. “Excuse me.”
His stern expression softened. “Excuse me.”
My breathing caught and my heart rate increased at his Slavic accent. “Um, excuse me.” I hurried down from my barstool and made my way down the long hallway to the bathroom. There was something familiar about the man, something I couldn’t put my finger on. Whatever it was, the brief encounter had my heart racing. My reflection in the mirror was unusually pale.
The bathroom door swung open. “Are you all right, Jasmine?” Camila rushed toward me and reached for my hands. “Your hands are freezing. What happened?”
Retrieving my hands, I went to the sink and turned on the hot water. “Probably from the margarita.” Placing my fingers under the hot stream brought back the circulation with a painful prickling sensation.
“No. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
I turned off the water and faced Camila. “That man, the one who sat next to me at the bar.” My stomach twisted. “Dario said that Zhdan saw me at the Green Lady Lounge. There’s something about that man that seemed familiar—his blue eyes. His accent is Russian, I think.”
“It can’t be him. I mean, what are the chances?”
“I’m sure you’re right. I just wish Rei would call me back or I could reach him. I missed his call when I was in the shower. I’ve tried to call back, and it goes straight to voicemail.”
“Do you think Dario blocked your phone again?”
“I checked. That’s not it. When he did that, I couldn’t even reach voicemail.” Wrapping my arms around my midsection, I inhaled. “I’m freaking out over nothing.”
“You were told yesterday that you must marry someone you’ve never met. It’s perfectly reasonable for you to imagine that every handsome Russian is your future husband.”
Looking at Camila, I broke into a fit of laughter. “There’s absolutely nothing reasonable about anything you just said.”
She locked elbows with me. “True. But you laughed. Let’s go have one more margarita before we head home. ”
“One more and I’ll spend the afternoon asleep.”
“Do you have better plans?”
“Sadly, no.” I pulled the door open.
Camila and I stopped dead in our tracks. The man from the bar was there, blocking our exit. I stared at the buttons on his white shirt. Tipping my chin upward, I scanned his thick neck, defined jaw, and up to his blue eyes. Camila had called him handsome. The first time, I only noticed his eyes. My mouth went dry as I took in his becoming features, a negative copy of Rei. This man had blond hair and stunning blue eyes.
“Excuse us,” Camila said.
His gaze was only on me. “You ran away so fast. I wanted to be sure you were okay.”
Russian.
His accent was definitely Russian.
That was my assessment based on the acquired knowledge that came with twenty years of watching TV and movies.
“I-I’m fine.”
“You’re Jasmine Renner.”
My frightened gaze went to Camila.
She disconnected our elbows and offered her hand. “She is, and I’m Camila Luciano. You are?”
Ignoring Camila’s hand, he brought his fingers to my cheek. “More interested in talking to Jasmine.”
I jumped back from his touch.
Camila moved forward. “Now isn’t a good time. We really shouldn’t keep our bodyguards waiting.”
Releasing my cheek, the man reached for the doorjamb, blocking me with his tall, muscled body. Caged near the wall, the air around us filled with a fog of his musky, spicy cologne. He was close—too close.
His voice reverberated through me in an uneasy way. “The last time I saw you, you were kissing a man, one from a cartel, I believe.”
Saw me—kissing.
He saw me kiss Rei at the Green Lady Lounge.
My mouth went dry. “I think you’re mistaken.”
He shook his head. “Never lie to me. I’m not mistaken. That kiss was very rememberable.”
The shuffle of shoes on the hallway floor caused the man to turn. With a feigned grin, he took a step back and lifted his hands as if to surrender. Giovanni and Piero were approaching fast, their guns drawn.
“There’s no need for that,” the man said. He took a step back. “Once you’re with me, you’ll forget ever kissing anyone else.”
“She’s never going to kiss you,” Camila said.
Piero came to my side. “We should get you back home.”
The two guards holstered their guns.
The man disappeared around the corner.
I blinked as the fog of the unknown man dissipated and my bodyguard came into view. “Who was he?”
It wasn’t Piero who answered. It was Giovanni.
“Zhdan Myshkin.”
Camila slapped Giovanni’s arm. “How did you let him get so close to Jasmine?”
“Ma’am, we didn’t see him until he had taken the seat. ”
I reached for Camila. “Stop. It’s not their fault. I think I want that second margarita.”
“Jasmine,” Piero said, “I think it’s best if we go back to the penthouse. Contessa can make you a margarita.”
“No.” I swallowed and stood straighter. “Zhdan is gone. Camila and I want margaritas, don’t we?”
She grinned. “More now than ever.”
We walked back into the bar and retook our seats.
“ Dos más ,” Camila said to the bartender.
This time, he looked past us to Giovanni. Camila turned and lifted her eyebrows at her bodyguard who then nodded to the bartender.
Giggling, I lowered my chin and reached for my mostly finished drink. When Camila swiveled toward me, I whispered, “You’re my hero.” I licked some of the salt from the rim before slurping the last little bit of my melted drink. “I’m glad we’re getting another.”
Camila lowered her voice. “Seriously, I’ve watched my mom and sister be the best dutiful wives and submissive women…Don’t get me wrong. A little submission in the bedroom is great, especially when you love and trust the man in control. While I may be living their lives, I’m not living it the way they have. Dante appreciates my opinion. He’s the one who told Giovanni to do as I say.” She leaned closer. “Girl, the power is a bit intoxicating.”
I chewed on my lower lip as two more margaritas arrived. “Does that mean if you say this isn’t our only stop, we could go somewhere else?”
Camila scrunched her nose. “After that encounter with Zhdan, do you want to go anywhere else?”
“It’s over. He’s not coming back.” I shrugged. “Why not?”