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He bounced forward as the Russians slammed into the door again. “They certainly won’t be checking there, I can assure you, sweetheart.”
“No, they bloody won’t.”
“Ready?” he said.
She nodded. “Oh wait!” She darted over and shut the safe – feeling satisfied as the locks clunked back into place.
Dylan shot her a mischievous glance, then he grabbed the door handle and waited a few seconds, counting in his head. He ripped the door open, and the Russians came tumbling in, mid-shoulder-slam.
Unable to stop himself, Orlov collided into his desk with a thud. He stumbled, then composed himself, angrily pushing the other guy away – who’d landed on top of him. The man with Orlov was a burly thickset bodyguard. Sarah imagined he’d probably been a prize-fighter back in Russia, before Orlov had selected him for guard duty. That or he’d been working in a freak-show as the world’s strongest man. He was like a shaved gorilla.
Orlov looked furious and terrified in equal measures. “What are you two doing in here?”
Dylan grabbed Sarah and held her tight. “Do you mind? We came in here for some privacy!”
Dylan ran his hands over Sarah’s ass. Her body shook with terror; Orlov wasn’t a man to be messed with.
“This is my office,” Orlov said. “And you need to get out right now, Mr Quinlan. Leave my house now!”
Dylan managed to remain calm. “Listen, Vlad, me and Sarah just got here – you can have your office back when we’ve finished our fun. Now do you mind?”
Orlov muttered something in Russian to his bodyguard, who lurched at Dylan.
Dylan held up his hands. “Alright, alright! Jesus, we’re leaving. Just let me go rescue my little brother from the clutches of your mother’s thighs, and we’ll be right out of your hair.”
Chapter Twenty
It was a relief to be back in Dylan’s bland and characterless apartment after spending two hours in Orlov’s ostentatious gothic mansion. Sarah’s eyes relished staring at these boring furnishings – they made a welcome change from pretentious art and heavy antiques. She was still feeling shaken after their lucky escape. But here they were. Safe for now.
Dylan made some coffee and the three of them sat on his comfortable-yet-bland couch in his safe-yet-dull living room. Dylan loosened his tie and picked up the piece of plastic that Sarah had placed carefully on the couch between them. He absent-mindedly turned it around in his fingers, staring at it like an e
nigma. Then he pulled himself out of it and focused on Sarah.
He held her hand. “Alright, sweetheart?”
“I think so.” Sarah tucked her feet underneath herself and tried to get comfortable. She squinted at Joseph’s cheek as he reclined on the couch opposite. “You’ve got a splodge of pink lipstick on your face.”
He laughed and reached up to wipe it off. “Anna certainly knows how to leave her mark on a guy.”
Dylan sipped his coffee. It wasn’t the done thing amongst the Quinlan brothers to brag about their private moments with a lady. But Sarah was allowed to ask as many questions as she wanted. “Was she good? Did you give her… you know, pleasure?”
Joseph smirked. “She was left completely satisfied. As was I.”
“Joe,” Dylan said. “We don’t kiss and tell.”
“No,” Joseph said. “We kiss and steal things from safes.”
“I’ve never seen Orlov so angry,” Sarah said. “He always seems so cool. We completely rattled him by being in his office like that.”
Dylan shrugged. “Yeah, well, when he finds out we’ve stolen his blueprint, I don’t think we’ll be at the top of his Christmas card list.”
Fear gripped Sarah. “Do you think he’ll come after us? I mean, does he know that we know about Natalia being a spy?”
“I’m not sure, babe.”
“Should we get the police involved?”
Dylan caressed her cheek. “Orlov’s not going to hurt us. If he comes anywhere near you, I’ll fucking kill him.”
