Page 43 of Lord of the Underworld

"Her Majesty's Royal Air Force?" I ask.

"Yes, Mrs. Turgeneva," he nods. "The three of us."

"Well, I'm so happy that my husband poached you from the British," I say a bit cheekily. "They could never appreciate you as much as we do, here in the Motherland."

Both pilots seem startled into chuckles, which end quickly as they glance at Vadim's stern expression.

"Okay. No banter," I say, holding up my hands. "Understood."

The jet's interior is just as beautiful as the outside, with sleek, comfortable seats in an indigo blue leather, with clean lines of cream-colored trim. Two seats are set apart from the others, with a large table set in front of them and multiple monitors.

"I see you do a lot of work while you fly," I say.

"There's never a time where my brother does anything but work." I turn to see Stepan, his brother, behind us, grinning. "Good morning, Mrs. Turgeneva. I hope you had a restful evening."

It's an innocent question. Obviously, there's a tinge of sass behind it given that it was our wedding night. I don't think Stepan deserves the look of deadly promise lighting up Vadim's eyes.

Poor Stepan, I think. He'd better stay on guard. It's a long flight.

"Perfectly well, thank you." I smile pleasantly. "You're coming to Chicago too?"

"I have family business with the Morozovs in New York," he smiles. "You'll drop me off before heading home."

"It will be nice to have your company," I say. "I'd love to know more about your family."

He pretends to be surprised. "Would that be because my brother has said absolutely nothing?"

I don't know if this is an old game between the two of them. I, however, am already firmly on Team Vadim. "Your brother is the strong, silent type," I say. "When he does have something important to say, he tells me. It's very nice."

Vadim meanwhile, has been conversing quietly with the pilots, and as the engines begin warming up, he walks back to us. Stepan attempts to sit down in one of the two seats. Vadim yanks him back up again by his shirt collar, jerking his head to the seats on the right. Unperturbed, Stepan straightens his shirt, and moves across the aisle.

"Newlyweds," he chuckles.

Chapter Nineteen

In which horses make everything better.

Vadim…

Oksana's eyes are drooping midway through the trip to Chicago, and she asks Matvey, our flight attendant, for a fourth coffee.

"You need rest," I say.

"Oh…" She fusses with her laptop and looks anywhere but at me. "I always try to stay awake when I fly. I'm, um, a very noisy sleeper. I think I snore," she chuckles awkwardly.

She doesn't want to sleep because she's afraid she'll have one of her nightmares. In a private jet with an audience, that in the past would have likely been reported back to her father.

"There's a private bedroom in the back," I say.

Matvey returns with her coffee and he nods enthusiastically. "Oh, yes, Mrs. Turgeneva, that might be an excellent option. The bedroom itself is soundproofed from the rest of the cabin, so you could get some rest."

Oksana's eyes light up at the lure of a soundproof bedroom. "That actually sounds wonderful, if you don't mind, Vadim?"

I rise to my feet, taking her back. The room is small, but the bed is large and comfortable. I've used it many times myself. She checks the attached bathroom and beams at me with the same level of enthusiasm I'd expect if I'd bought her a jet of her own, rather than offering her a protected place to sleep.

She's so happy with small kindnesses.

"Thank you," she says. "It's very thoughtful of you. I just wouldn't want to disturb your work if I was… loud."