Chapter 22 - Tatiana
I turned on the shower in Kon’s bathroom, glad he was already gone when I woke up. Did I completely lose my mind? As I stepped under the steaming waterfall, the water sluiced down my body, making me remember his kisses and touches so that I had to turn the temperature down a notch.
Never, ever, would I have imagined my first time would be with someone like Kon, or Kon himself, or under such crazy circumstances. I must have lost my mind. Still, I couldn’t regret it. How could I, when it was so fantastic?
In fact, it was very close to perfect.
For those moments in his arms, I forgot everything but unbridled, unadulterated passion. Like I was the most important thing in the universe to him, like he would disappear if he couldn’t get his hands on me. That was intoxicating, and quite frankly, I could use more of it.
As soon as I turned the warm, soothing water off, I was hit with a cold gust of guilt. How could I lose myself in those kinds of feelings when my father could be suffering? Might be dead?
But all wasn’t lost, and I braced myself against sliding into despair as I wrapped up in Kon’s bathrobe, smelling of his crisp cologne.
He seemed to think he could track down the shooters and identify how and why one was involved with Papa might be the first step toward saving him.
Then we could get to the truth, and Kon could stop being so bitter against him.
I huffed as I headed out to find myself some breakfast, preparing for a long, lonely day by myself. Why should Kon’s feelings about my father matter at all? After the way he was so quick to believe the worst about him, Papa would be within his rights to completely cut him off after he was found.
He just had to be found.
I stopped short as I entered the kitchen, surprised to see a lavish buffet spread set up on the marble counter.
Trays of fresh fruit, several bottles of champagne, and a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, along with hot plates full of French toast and blinis.
A small butter sculpture in the shape of a rearing horse stood between a selection of syrups, and the savory scent of bacon filled my nostrils as Kon raised one of the hot plate lids.
He smiled at me as he filled his plate with a mountain of crispy slices. “I wasn’t messing around when I promised you’d have a good time here in the apartment,” he said.
Heat flooded my cheeks because I thought he meant the amazing time he showed me in his bed last night. This was okay, too. He mixed me a mimosa in a crystal glass and held it out to me, urging me to dig in; there was more in store.
“I don’t know if I should be scared or excited,” I said, but after the workout last night, I was starving.
He made a point to only speak about insignificant things, and I went along with it for the moment.
He had obviously put some effort into this treat, and I had to admit I was relaxed, at least physically.
He had me rolling with laughter at some story about his little niece, and we got into a silly tussle about whether she was a great-niece or a grand-niece.
“Either way, it makes me sound old, so I’m just calling her my niece,” he said, clearly waiting for me to tell him he wasn’t old at all.
Despite being twice my age, I’d never think of him as old again. “You’ve still got some stamina.”
“I’ll show you stamina,” he said, hoisting me in his arms.
I squealed, thinking we were heading back to the bedroom, but he carried me up to the rooftop pool where two massage tables were set up under the shade of the potted palm trees.
Kon dropped his robe and strode proudly to one of the tables, then turned and asked if I’d rather swim a little bit first.
How could I answer when I was staring at all those muscles, especially now that I knew exactly what that body was capable of making me feel.
“Uh, well, you’re supposed to wait a while after eating to swim,” I said.
The massage therapists silently worked out the kinks while we lay face down, side by side. Once Kon reached out his hand to touch mine, which had fallen off the table in my ecstasy. All I could do was moan.
“Not too bad for being stuck at home, is it?” he asked.
“Your smug tone is tensing my shoulders up,” I murmured, making him laugh. “But, no, this isn’t too bad.”
“Just wait,” he said.
How was he going to top this? I’d been to plenty of lavishly catered meals, but none especially for me.
Only for me. I was so stuffed, all I could do was laze in the pool after the massage was finished and the therapists rolled their tables away.
Suddenly, I wasn’t so self-conscious about being buck naked around Kon.
Maybe it was because I was slowly but surely getting addicted to the way his eyes glimmered as they traveled over my bare skin, or the way he casually stroked my arm as he swam past me. But mostly it was because if I put on a swimsuit, he might put one on, too. Then I’d lose that glorious view.
I only got out of the pool when my fingers and toes were shriveled like pale raisins and flopped into one of the lounge chairs, sprawled out under the sun as if I’d never worn clothes in my life.
“What happened to my little prude?” he asked, splashing me when he shook the water out of his hair.
“You know exactly what happened to her,” I said. “But, oh, doesn’t that sun feel good?”
“Would you want to stay in LA?” he asked.
I turned to look at him and frowned at the serious note in his voice after we’d been teasing each other all morning. Whether or not I stayed in LA depended on too many things to just blurt out an answer, no matter how much I loved the never-ending sunshine.
“Would you?” I asked instead of having to search my thoughts too deeply.
“It sometimes feels like the family I have here has been neglected,” he started, pausing when I sniffed.
“They’ve done fine for themselves.”
“Yes, but we’re all so close in Moscow, and I only see this lot once or twice a year. It might be time for a change.”
“Well, I’d miss my job,” I said. “And I don’t know what…” I trailed off, not wanting to bring up what Papa would want me to do. I absolutely couldn’t think of Papa while I was lazing around naked with Kon, the man who was hunting him.
“Don’t,” Kon said, reaching for my hand. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
“How did you know?” I asked.
He laughed bitterly and didn’t answer. Was his own conscience acting up? That would mean he had one. The sun was too warm, and he kept his hand firmly clasped with mine as he asked me about the textile trade. Did I really want to be a weaver? Or was I more interested in the business side?
“You know my niece Mila is passionate about fashion and fabrics. And my great-niece? Grand-niece? Nat has an art gallery where she displays her works sometimes.”
Why was he telling me this? “What if I did want to be just a weaver?” I asked. “Does everyone have to claw their way to the top of an industry to be considered a success? What if I’m happy at my loom?”
“Then that would be enough,” he said without hesitation. “As long as you weren’t lying to yourself.”
Hmm, that was too much food for thought, and I closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep in the waning afternoon with Kon’s hand in mine. Too many thoughts or emotions might topple the cozy feeling that enveloped me, and I was worn out from barely any sleep the night before and swimming for an hour.
The feel of soft fabric settling over me woke me up, and Kon stood above me in shadow, wrapped in one of the poolhouse robes. “You had goosebumps,” he said, straightening another thick cotton robe around me.
The sun was now below the level of the buildings, casting a dark, rosy glow around them. “How long was I asleep?”
“Just the right amount of time,” he said, motioning to a man in a white jacket setting up a table where the massage beds had been.
The man lit the tall candle in the middle of the table, cracked open a bottle of champagne, and lifted the lids off of two silver serving trays, before bowing his way out of the rooftop garden like Kon and me were royalty.
“Bratva king,” I muttered.
“It has its perks,” he admitted, holding out his hand.
I shrugged on the robe now that the air was cooler and followed him to the intimate table for two. Any minute now, there would be stars sparkling in the sky. Was he trying to be romantic?
A perfectly grilled steak, mashed potatoes loaded with butter and cheese, and a crisp, cold salad made my stomach rumble as I sat down.
“This and the sunshine are two good reasons I’d want to stay here,” I said. “These Americans know how to cook a steak.”
“Come now, we do fine in Russia,” he said mildly, digging in with a distinct lack of patriotism for his own country. “But, yeah, this is better.”
As we ate, we still kept dodging any sensitive subjects, which was getting more and more difficult. But I had to admit he was doing a good job of showing me a good time.
“It’s not over yet,” he told me after I confessed.
And sure enough, when the white-coated waiter returned with ice cream and brownies that had to have been made by an angel, a quartet of musicians filed past us to set up their instruments.
“I guessed you’d prefer classical over something loud and brash,” he said. “Was I right, or should I toss these guys over the side and get a different group?”
It shouldn’t have, but it made me laugh. “I love classical,” I said, and not only to save the musicians’ lives. I loved a good cello concerto while I worked on a difficult tapestry.
“Me too,” he said.
“No, you’re completely rock and roll.”
Kon shook his head. “What makes you say that?”
“Oh, let’s see. The chaos, the jumping from venture to venture, the—”
“Hey, now,” he said, holding up his hands. “That’s work. In my own time, I’m nothing but zen.” I laughed some more, and he stood. “Dance with me, Tati.”
For some reason, the command didn’t make me prickle. I wanted to dance with him, however wrong that might have been. This was too nice of a day to ruin, not when the stars were finally out and shining down on us.
Barefoot and wrapped in robes, we swayed to the soft music of the string quartet, and when he pulled me close to his chest, I let my cheek rest there, breathing in the scent of the pool that clung to his skin.
This was nice. I didn’t want to ruin it.
So I did anyway. “If you can afford all this so easily, why are you so angry about the missing money?” I asked.
He stiffened. “Because the money didn’t just go missing.”
“Papa didn’t take it,” I insisted, shoving away from him.
Instead of letting me go, he jerked me back. “That may be so. But I have to know for sure.”
“Or you could trust him. You know, your oldest friend?”
He shook his head, eyes dark. “I once thought I could trust the love of my life. But it wasn’t love at all. She did nothing but betray me and try to drag me down, all while I was trusting her.”
“Sofiya’s mom?” I asked, unable to make myself call that mysterious woman his wife.
“She was no mother,” he snapped. “The boys hardly remember her. Sofiya not at all. She got herself killed trying to bring my family and me down from within. So yeah, I have trust issues.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, relaxing into his arms again after hearing the truth about the woman that Sofiya never even had a picture of in her home. “But I do trust enough for the both of us. Papa didn’t do anything wrong, and the sooner we find that shooter—”
“They’re gone,” he said, looking down at me. “I wasn’t going to tell you until tomorrow. I wanted you to have this day. But they’re in the wind, probably on their way back to Tokyo.”
A sob ripped from my throat, and I stumbled back. The only lead we had was lost. I was as far from finding Papa as when I first found out he was gone.
Kon gripped my shoulders. His eyes were fierce, his hold on me tight and sure. “Tati. This isn’t a dead end. We will find Grigor.”
His words were so forceful that I melted against him, almost believing. Wanting to believe he could make the impossible happen. And that finding my father was far from impossible.