Chapter Five #2
If anything, his being dangerous made her want him more.
She went up onto her tiptoes, so close that if he moved his head a fraction of an inch, he would have kissed her.
“I’m keeping my room.” Keira dropped back down to her feet and turned on her heel.
She made it a grand total of three steps before his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back against a chiseled chest. “You’re teasing me, moya koroleva. ”
She tried not to notice how he dwarfed her.
Dmitri didn’t look particularly huge, but this close, he felt like a fucking giant.
It was everything she could do not to press back against him, to submit to the command in every line of his body.
Keira gritted her teeth. “You had something on your shirt.”
His chuckle went straight through her. “You may keep your room, but as of tonight, your belongings will be moved into mine.”
“What?” All the delicious feeling in her body disappeared, replaced by sheer rage. “You can’t do that, you high-handed son of a bitch.”
“I think you’ll learn that I can do whatever I damn well please.” He didn’t move, didn’t abuse the position he had her in, but she felt the promise of his words all the same.
She elbowed him, slammed her boot into his instep, and ducked under his arm. Keira spun to face him, hands up. She might be able to throw a punch, but she wasn’t a martial arts expert. Dmitri really could do whatever he damn well pleased to her and she would be helpless to stop him.
He straightened his shirt, looking at her as if he’d spooked a wild animal. “Dinner. Tonight. You seem to have forgotten our plans the other day. Don’t forget again.” This time, there was no mistaking the threat. Apparently her grace period was at an end.
She lifted her chin. “Game on, Russian.”
Dmitri studied the box on his desk. Generic in every way except its size.
It sat in the middle of the desk, a rough three-by-three square.
Mikhail stood on the other side of it, his hand on his gun.
A gun wouldn’t do anything against whatever was enclosed, but it was good for his man to be alert. “Who sent it?”
“I don’t know. I came into the office and it was here.”
He cut the nondescript tape on the top and opened it. Styrofoam peanuts sat in a perfect layer, but the smell told him everything he needed to know—death. “I need gloves.”
Mikhail went to the cabinet in the corner and returned with leather gloves. Dmitri pulled them on, never taking his gaze from the box. He delved into the peanuts, coming up with a sealed envelope. It contained a plain card with a note scrawled in it.
A preview of what’s to come.
—M
“Where is Keira?” He set the note aside.
He’d expected Mae to make a move—she wasn’t the patient type, and it had to be infuriating in the extreme to know he bested her.
It was entirely in character for whatever the box contained to be dramatic—and bloody.
Alethea’s leash had slipped before, and it had obviously slipped again. There was no controlling Mae.
Mikhail shifted from foot to foot, the only sign of his unease. “She found the library. She’s been in there for hours.”
At least something had caught her interest. Krav Maga would help as well, but he was going to have to give her something else to keep her occupied—and out of trouble—soon.
Dmitri focused on the box. “Let’s see it.
” He carefully swept the peanuts to the side and delved deeper than he’d gone to find the note.
A head. That bitch put a head in a box.
He lifted the head, dark hair swirling through the peanuts and then a face emerging. Dmitri froze. Keira.
But no, it wasn’t Keira, because his Keira was safely ensconced in the library. “Send one of the men to her, now.”
Mikhail didn’t ask for clarification. He dug his phone out and called Pavel. A quick conversation, and then a short wait for the confirmation text. He looked up from his phone. “She’s safe.”
Dmitri didn’t release his breath in a sigh of relief.
He couldn’t afford to. But with Keira’s location confirmed, he could step back enough to study the dead woman’s face.
Not Keira. They had the same straight nose and sharp features, but this woman’s lips were thinner, and her eyes were the wrong color—two things he should have picked up on immediately.
He carefully replaced it into the box and removed the gloves.
“Find out who she was—and who put the box here. Any packages should have been vetted by you first. I want to know why this one wasn’t.
” It didn’t sit any better than the dead girl’s similarity to Keira.
Mae had made a statement, and she would follow it with something worse.
He might find anticipating Alethea’s moves challenging, but Mae was a rabid dog.
All she knew how to do was attack. She might be crafty in the way she went about it, but she would attack all the same.
“Yes, sir.” Mikhail lifted the box and strode from the room.
Only then did Dmitri sink into his chair.
He’d known the game when he crossed Alethea Eldridge.
It was a calculated risk, but ultimately she had had every intention of killing him and wiping the Romanov name from the earth, so Dmitri had acted first. He hadn’t expected the FBI to botch things so intensely, but he should have known better.
Keira’s presence in the house had him distracted even when he wasn’t sharing space with her. The wedding had been too rushed, and she hadn’t officially been announced as his wife, so it wasn’t perceived as real yet.
That changed now.
He dialed the extension to the library. A few rings later, Keira’s voice eased over the line. “You know, it’s creepy how you have a phone in every room of this house.”
“It simplifies things.”
“If you say so. It’s better than finding a phone in my panty drawer.”
He almost smiled, but there were more important things to deal with right now than enjoying verbally sparring with her as they took a walk down memory lane. “Circumstances require a change in plans. I’ll be working late tonight.”
“I’ll be sure to cry myself to sleep about it.” Dramatic to the very end.
Irritation flared. “Stop being such a child.” It wasn’t a valuable trait, and her tendency to say whatever popped into her head made her a liability.
He’d thought he’d have more time to bring her around before he announced her as his wife, but it wasn’t to be.
That required her to grow up—quickly. “There’s a dinner tomorrow evening here.
You’ll be required to dress for it. I can arrange—”
“As creepy-sweet as it was of you to stock an entire wardrobe for me, I’m more than capable of finding a suitable dress. I need to get the hell out of this place for a while.”
“That’s not an option.” It was far too easy to transpose her features over the dead woman’s.
He knew damn well that was Mae’s point in sending it to him in the first place, but that didn’t negate the reaction.
Or the threat. Keira had been in danger before, but it had grown exponentially with Mae being bailed out and Alethea going into hiding.
He wasn’t letting Keira out of the house without a goddamn army.
She was silent for so long, he thought she might have hung up. Finally, Keira spoke. “Sure. No problem. I suppose you have someone on retainer who can bring in stuff?”
“I do.” That was too easy. This was the same woman who had all but scaled brick walls to escape her brother’s household night after night. Her nighttime wanderings hadn’t ceased in all the time his people had been watching her. So why now?
Keira didn’t sound bubbly, but it was close.
“Have your goon give me the contact info and I’ll arrange it.
” She must have known he was going to argue, because she cut in.
“Look, Romanov, throw me a fucking bone here. You have me locked up like a less-than-virginal princess in a tower. The least I can do is pick my own damn clothes.”
It was a small freedom in the grand scheme of things. What was more, positive reinforcement would encourage her to obey him. It was only clothes, after all. “Pavel will pass on the information shortly.”
“Spasibo.” She hung up.
He set the phone down. The whole exchange defied expectations.
Admittedly, he’d only interacted with Keira a handful of times up until marrying her, but Dmitri was a firm believer in research.
He knew her, even if it was all secondhand information.
Nothing in those reports gave any evidence that she’d suddenly become an obedient wife within the first week of marriage.
He was tempted to chalk it up to her being sober for the first time since he’d interacted with the O’Malley family, but that didn’t feel right.
Or perhaps you’re looking for complications because you’re disappointed.
It was true that he’d enjoyed the way Keira didn’t seem to care who he was or fear him beyond all reason. Dmitri had anticipated a vigorous fight from the second she walked over the threshold of his home.
He should have known better than to pin his expectations on being continuously surprised by a single person. Keira had surprised him, but since she’d come through her withdrawal, she’d been subdued—almost submissive.
It was for the best.
The last thing Dmitri needed was a home front battle on his hands when he had the threat of the Eldridges circling. Keira’s actions might be puzzling, but it was one less thing he had to deal with in the meantime.
Truly, it was for the best.
He ignored the twinge of disappointment and picked up the phone again. It was time to get things moving.