Page 48 of Lord of the Underworld

Four days later…

An extraction day is always nightmarish.

My nervous system is overloaded with a painful, churning series of emotions; hope, anxiety, anticipation and then, lingering behind the others, outright terror that everything will go wrong.

Nothing ever has, nothing that Yvette and I couldn't fix in time, anyway. We've never had to rush like this, though. I'm worried that the Rossi bodyguards will be on high alert this close to the Don's sick plans for his wife and girls.

As I'm getting dressed to leave, Vadim is lounging on the couch in the master suite.

Shirtless.

Mrs. Christova lit a blaze in the fireplace when it started to rain, one of those unforgiving October storms with a wind that sends the rain slamming angrily against the windows. Vadim is wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else, putting his feet up on the ottoman to warm them by the fire. Now, I'm finding that my husband's body is driving the thoughts and fears right out of my mind. Even the outright terror.

He’s holding his favorite knife, the long silvery blade with a pattern of wavy lines, like water running over silver rocks. "It's Damascus steel," he had told me the first time I'd seen it. "This blade is over three hundred years old. Exceptionally sharp, superbly strong."

His long, capable fingers run a diamond sharpening stone over the blade. By the delicate way he's holding the knife, I can tell it's already wickedly sharp. The firelight is playing over the powerful lines of his shoulders and arms, thick biceps flexing as he hones the steel.

Suddenly, at least 50% of me - primarily located below my waist - wants to abandon today's plan and stay home with my husband. Take off my shirt, too, and slide next to him on the couch. Feel his muscles flex and enjoy how the firelight illuminates all his tattoos.

"I have a meeting with Yvette this afternoon," I say, attempting to sound casual. "We're going over next year's financial projections, which will be just as exciting as it sounds."

His gaze lifts from the blade to me, and he tilts his head slightly in question.

"Maybe you like cost benefit-risk conversions," I groan. "To me, it's only slightly more desirable than a root canal."

Nodding, he keeps his eyes on me as I pull my hair up into a ponytail, his hands still working the sharpening stone.

"If I were sharpening that knife, I would have cut off half my fingers by now," I chuckle nervously. "Even if I was paying very close attention. Maybe you should be looking at…"

There is something simmering in his glacier eyes, I don't know him well enough yet to understand it, but it feels like expectation.

"The… um. The meeting might go on for a while, is that all right with you?"

He nods again. "Take Slava with you."

"Of course."

He's still watching me, his hands are idle now, his blade resting on his thigh.

What would Vadim say if I told him what I really did when he thought I was making gift baskets for fundraisers or attending lunch meetings? Would he be proud of me? Or furious, and he'd order me to stop? Even worse, would he dismantle our network?

My phone rings and I dive for it, desperate to break the moment.

"One hour," Yvette says. "Are you ready?"

"As always," I say brightly, "I'll bring the pastries. Do you want the chocolate pinwheels again?"

"Lana's waiting for your signal," she says. "Good luck."

"Yes, see you on the other side of this budget meeting," I chuckle. "Ideally, there will be wine."

Stuffing my phone in my backpack and yanking on my boots, I smile brightly at Vadim. "Are you busy today?"

Shaking his head, he still gives me that unnerving look.

"Okay, well… See you soon."

Crooking a finger, he gestures for me to come closer. When I'm in reach, he takes my hand, pulling me close, my lips hovering over his. This close, I can see a dozen tiny shards of silver in his eyes. Putting a finger to the corner of his mouth, he waits.