“Oh. Um. No.” I snatch the envelope from Shay’s hand. “You want me to wear this for the next rite?!”
“Yes. I have it on good authority that it will help the cause.”
“The man you’re storing?” I hedge.
“Hmm.”
“The gala’s tomorrow, Maxim. I still have no date for the rite. When’s the dress Ineedcoming?”
“Should be there in the morning. Jewels too. The guards will bring it.”
“Um, sorry about that. I kind of overreacted.” Stepping out of the living room and into the kitchen, I admit, “I know what those events are like. Sharks everywhere. All I could imagine is me stepping in, wearing that dress, and all the sharks scenting immediate blood.”
“You think I’d set you up for a fall?”
“No, but I think you’dcoverme up if you could. Especially when there are cameras.”
His wry laughter tells me I know him better than he realizes. “In this instance,kotik, you’re doing me a favor,nyet?”
“I’m pretty sure you were doing me the favor and I was repaying that favor.”
“Whatever, I want the sharks to fuck off. Your presence, on my arm, will hopefully achieve that.”
“True.” I grit my teeth then ask a question that’s been plaguing me since he left me in bed a few mornings ago. “Is there anyone who might try to get between us?”
“No one is our friend. Unless they’re family.”
“That’s no answer! I’m talking specifics. Women you’ve fucked and discarded. Women who think being cruel might get me toleave?—”
“Ah. I will point them out to you if I see them there. But I won’t leave your side.”
“You can’t go into the bathroom with me.”
“If you had a piss kink, then I probably could,da.”
“Not funny, Maxim.”
“I thought it was hilarious,” he deadpans. “I can stand guard outside the cubicle if you wish.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
His laughter, so free and amused, isn’t even worth it. “I will not allow you to be humiliated,korovka,” he assures me. “You are a feminist,nyet?”
Warily, I pause. But he doesn’t fill the silence. “Yes.”
“It’s only equal rights if I’m willing to cut out a woman’s tongue for hurting you too.”
“Maxim!”
More of his laughter echoes in my ears. “I’m glad you called, Victoria. You should talk to me through the day. It’s very funny.”
“I think they call it comic relief,” I mock.
“Da, da.” As I wonder if he knows how Russian he sounds when he’s been working, a lot less polished, his refined English sinking to the background as he wears the mask of “crime boss,” he hints, “Now, is there anything else,zaya?”
“Yes, you can stop calling me a hare.”
“But you’d be a cute one. Always jumping to the wrong conclusions.”
