As impossible as it is, I wish I could spend a few days in Russia before starting my new life. I’d like to see him at home. Around his family. Does he drop his guard, or does he remain on alert? Does he go to concerts or out on dates or cook?—
“Ready?”
I blink rapidly at Lev, who’s waiting expectantly. I zoned out while he checked us in, and I silently shake myself. Just because Lev is aware doesn’t mean I can afford not to be. He won’t be here soon.
I nod.
“Let us know if there’s anything we can do to improve your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln,” the clerk says, glancing between us.
I nearly smile at the familiar pseudonym, but it fades when I register he booked us as a married couple. For convenience, obviously, rather than having to come up with two separate names. Hearing it is a taunt at a permanent partnership.
Lev has never said he trusts me, but I hope he does.
I thank the clerk, then follow Lev over to the elevators. While we wait for it to arrive, he holds out one of the room keys to me.
I act scandalized, glancing around as I clap a hand to my chest. “Out in the open?”
Lev rolls his eyes as he forcibly shoves the plastic card into one of my hands. “In case we get separated.”
I immediately sober. “Is that likely to happen?”
He hasn’t told me any details about where or who we’re meeting. For all I know, this entire thing is a setup, and I’m walking into another trap.
I lower my voice when he doesn’t respond right away. “If I’m being careful who I trust … should I trust you, Lev?”
The silver doors part, and he gestures for me to enter first.
“Yes,” he says simply as they slide closed.
DUBLIN BLUES
We wind up at a local pub the concierge recommended for dinner. He was right; it’s a popular spot. So busy that we get seated at two stools alongside the bar since all the tables are taken.
Carina doesn’t seem to mind the arrangement. Honestly, neither do I. I scoot my chair closer to hers than necessary, telling myself it’s for security. I’ve taken every precaution I could, but it’s not possible to be too careful.
Igor knows I’m in Ireland; I told him I was meeting with Cillian while I was already in Europe. I have no reason to be paranoid some aspect of this will go wrong, no reason to have my arm draped possessively across the straight back of Carina’s stool like a physical shield.
No reason, except theI trust youthat refuses to stop echoing in my head. She said those words aloud, said them in a decisive way that left no room for misinterpretation of their meaning.
This plan cannot fail.
It’s what is best for her.
It’s a betrayal I can justify. We would benefit from using her as blackmail, but we don’tneedto. Carina never should havebeen a pawn in play, and I’m simply making sure she’s kept separate. I’m lying to mypakhan, but it’s to keep him from having something he should never possess.
Yet I’m fighting the inevitable outcome because I don’t want to let her go. Because I spent my last trip to Chicago battling the urge to see her one final time, and I don’t know how I’m going to walk away again tomorrow morning.
“What can I get ye?” A ruddy-faced man with a silver beard appears, white towel slung over one shoulder as he grins crookedly at Carina.
Me he gives a resigned glance, correctly guessing—or at least suspecting—I’m here on some sort of unsavory business. I’ve been told before that I give off ominous energy.
Carina’s outfit matches a tourist’s. Plus, she’s smiling back.
“What do you recommend?” she asks. “This is my first trip to Ireland.”
Impossibly, the man beams brighter as he begins to list off his favorite items on the pub’s menu.
Carina decides on fish and chips and a cider he advertised as “popular with the lasses.”
