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“It’s a pleasure,” Orlov said, shaking Sarah’s hand. She blushed at his touch. Don’t look into his eyes! He was unbelievably gorgeous – like a demon of temptation in Gucci.
“And this,” Dylan said, “is my brother Joseph Quinlan.”
“Delighted to meet you,” Orlov said, shaking his hand, too. He turned his attention back to Dylan. “I’m very happy that our sponsorship deal is still going ahead, Dylan, despite all which has been happening with my dearest Natalia.”
“Me too, Vladimir. In fact, I’d hoped to discuss some of the finer details with you tonight.” Dylan turned to Sarah and Joseph. “Why don’t you two go mingle? Me and Vlad are going to talk ‘shop’ for a bit.”
Joseph nodded and slipped out the door. Sarah planned to join him, so she opened her mouth to say she’d see Dylan soon, but a commotion on the other side of the room made them glance over.
With the force of a nuclear explosion, a tense atmosphere swept across the room. Sarah watched with dread as one of the Russians – who’d been standing loyally with Orlov a moment ago – was now frantically waving his hands and shaking his head. The man looked terrified, even though he was strongly built and battle-scarred. The other ice-cold members of Orlov’s gang were closing in on him, speaking sharply in Russian, and looming ominously as if they were about to rip him to pieces in front of everyone. Sarah couldn’t understand what they were saying, but she caught one word of English: “Traitor!”
Orlov remained totally cool. “So sorry, Mr Quinlan. You will excuse me. It seems the inner-circle is having the urgent meeting.”
“The inner-circle?” Dylan asked.
“Yes. This is our name for ourselves. The ruling oligarchs of Russia.”
Dylan raised an eyebrow. “The Russian President might not be too pleased to hear you calling yourselves ‘rulers’.”
Orlov chuckled condescendingly. “Nonsense. The President is one of us. But, alas, he could not be here tonight.”
Orlov strode over to join his comrades and harshly reminded them that they currently had an audience, so they ushered the treacherous man out the room. One of Orlov’s comrades – a snarky-looking man with glasses – draped a supportive arm around the man’s shaking shoulders like a paedophilic uncle. He looked terrified.
“I wonder what’s going to happen to him,” Sarah said.
Dylan shrugged, still watching the little group leave. “God knows.”
“He’s so arrogant,” Sarah said. “Orlov, I mean. He’s horrid.”
“He is. Pretty handsome, though, huh?”
Dylan threw her a knowing grin. She laughed. “I didn’t notice.”
Dylan cupped her chin and kissed her on the lips. “I think he’s blinded by his own self-worth. I know his type – a coward on his own, when he’s not protected by his bodyguards or his political cronies.”
Sarah sipped her Champagne. “It looks like his cronies don’t deal with traitors very well. I think they’d be fascinated to discover that Orlov was married to a spy. Shall we tell them now?”
r /> Dylan chuckled and squeezed her on the shoulder. “Let’s do what we came here for. We need to somehow get our hands on that piece of the blueprint and destroy it. Then we can deal with Orlov.”
“Or let them deal with him,” Sarah said.
“Yeah,” Dylan said. “I like the way you think. Come on, let’s go look around while their backs are turned. Where’s Joseph gone?”
Chapter Nineteen
Regardless of how corrupt and evil the Orlov family were, there was one thing Sarah couldn’t deny – they were incredibly attractive. Mrs Orlov was beautiful and glamorous, and as Sarah and Dylan wandered back out to the lavish checkerboard hallway, they discovered Joseph leaning against the marble bannister of the spiral staircase, gazing into the Russian woman’s eyes, and lighting her cigarette for her like a film-noir hero – maintaining such smouldering eye contact that his gaze could’ve done the job on its own. Mrs Orlov blew the smoke out of her mouth in the sexiest femme-fatale style that Sarah had ever seen outside a movie. She sipped her Champagne and continued to flirt coolly with Joseph.
“Boy wonder’s in action,” Dylan said.
“Time to set the plan in motion,” Sarah replied.
They strolled over and joined Joseph. The sexual tension sizzled.
“Hey,” Joseph said with a grin. “This is Anna – Vladimir’s mother. I was just telling her how astounded I was that she’s the mother of a twenty-five-year-old. I mean, she looks so young.”
Anna’s face didn’t flicker. Sarah knew she wasn’t stupid – you didn’t attain her sort of wealth and power by being a pushover. Her demeanour oozed coolness.
“I was a child-bride,” she said in a smooth Russian accent.
