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“Plans changed,” I tell him.
He already understands this isn't routine. “Boss?”
“Maggie is going to the shelter,” I continue. “Two vehicles. Four men. No public entrance unless cleared first.”
He takes the instructions in with a single nod. “Understood.”
I look at Maggie. “You stay with Luka or one of the men at all times.”
She folds her arms. “Alexei.”
“This isn’t negotiable.”
The look she gives me suggests she would very much like it to be. I ignore it and turn back to Luka.
“No side rooms alone. No leaving the property without notifying security. If she decides she wants coffee, I want someone knowing where she's getting it.”
Maggie gives me a look that would have made a less intelligent man reconsider speaking. “You're bein’ dramatic.”
“No. I'm being careful.”
Her mouth presses into a thin line. “You forgot to say I need permission to breathe,” she mutters.
“You breathe under supervision.”
Luka turns his face away.
Maggie points at him. “Do not laugh.”
“I would never,” Luka replies. His face says otherwise.
My attention moves to Viktor. “Grab another man. You're with me.”
Viktor nods, leaving the foyer.
Roman has information. Whatever he found, I want it now.
I walk Maggie to the front doors. The morning air is already warm, filled with the scent of cut grass and salt from the water beyond the estate. Two SUVs wait at the base of the front steps, engines running, windows dark, and men positioned around them with the controlled discipline I require.
The first vehicle is for Maggie. Luka moves into place beside the rear door with one hand resting near his jacket, his eyes scanning the drive, the tree line, the gate, and every place a threat might decide to appear.
Maggie stops beside the open door and turns toward me. The oversized sweatshirt hangs loosely over her frame, and the irritation on her face does nothing to lessen the pull I feel when I look at her. If anything, it makes it worse. Maggie angry, is inconveniently beautiful. Maggie worried is harder to endure.
“You know I’m just goin’ to my own shelter, right?” she asks, keeping her voice low enough that the men won’t hear every word.
“Yes.”
“With four security men,” she adds.
“Yes.”
“And instructions about side rooms, coffee, breathin’, and probably blinkin’ if you thought you could get away with it.”
“You blink too often when you’re annoyed.”
Her mouth parts like she wants to scold me, then she realizes I’m not entirely joking. The look she gives me shouldn’t make me want to pull her close in the driveway with my men standing twenty feet away. It does anyway.
“Alexei.”
