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I almost laughed, then it hit me that he wasn’t here to bring me home for punishment at all. Nor was he so broken up over me leaving him that he couldn’t stay away.
I was his property, nothing more, and it was only a point of pride that he retrieve me. That should have been the least of my worries, but it still hurt. I remained silent as he drove through the city, heading to a much nicer area and finally pulling into the parking garage of a high rise apartment building.
After he pulled into an empty spot, he turned to me and sighed. “Scene or no scene?”
I knew what he meant. I could walk through the building like a big girl or be carried kicking and screaming. It was clear he knew someone in this place, and I knew the Morozov name still carried a lot of weight in this city. I didn’t stand a chance of someone helping me.
“No scene,” I said.
He smiled and got out, hurrying around to open my car door. Good God, was he still being a gentleman after everything? I didn’t know whether I wanted to laugh or cry so I only walked beside him in numb silence until we got into a mirrored elevator that swiftly took us upwards. I suppressed a gasp at my appearance in all the mirrors. Dark circles, messy hair, and my clothes were limp and stretched out. I tipped my chin down and took a quiet breath. At least I didn’t stink, despite not finding the will to use the mildew encrusted, shared shower facility at the motel that morning. It made it all the worse that he looked as scrumptious and put together as usual.
We went down a hallway where he knocked on the last door, looking eager as he called for whoever was in there to hurry it up.
A lilting feminine voice called out in Russian that it was open and Yuri turned the handle, dragging me in with him. A stunningly beautiful woman around my age jumped out from behind the kitchen counter where she had a vast array of computer equipment set up, and made a beeline for him. She had glossy dark hair that fell in perfect waves to just above her shoulders. Her eyes were as brilliantly blue as Yuri’s and sparkled with happiness to see him. She had curves for days, her thighs encased in tight jeans, and her very impressive bosom spilled out of a leather bustier.
Yuri let out a joyous noise and scooped her up around her waist, twirling her around while her musical laughter filled the room. It was like an ax had been buried in my chest, and I almost doubled over, watching them. The smile on his face was real, that happy sound had bubbled up unbidden because he was so glad to see whoever this woman was. Jealousy dug in its claws, adding to the pain of watching him practically groping her. I must have truly lost my mind to be bothered at that point, but I was, and badly. If there had been a drop of food in my stomach, I would have leaned over and emptied it on the embroidered rug under my feet.
After what seemed a million years, he finally set her back down, turning to me with a look that was still full of happiness. Had I ever brought such feelings to his eyes?
“Kira, meet my cousin, Evelina. She used to torture me when she was an annoying little girl, but I’m quite fond of her now.”
I had lost it, completely misreading his actions because I was blinded by jealousy. I smiled at Evelina, hoping my shame didn’t shine like a beacon on my face.
“He only comes to Moscow when he needs something,” Evelina said, giving me a curious once-over.
I started to relax. A family reunion didn’t seem like such a bad ending to this bizarre escape attempt. Maybe things wouldn’t turn out as badly as I feared.
Until Yuri whipped out a pair of handcuffs from his jacket pocket, pushed me into a chair near the wall and cuffed me to the radiator. I yelped and rattled against the sturdy old metal bars, about to go off with a fresh burst of rage. But as he remained leaning over me, his eyes were stormy and I decided not to push my luck.
“Yuri,” I pleaded. To no avail.
He straightened up, completely ignoring me now. “I’m getting a shower,” he directed toward Evelina, already heading toward the back of the apartment.
“Oh, by all means, make yourself at home,” she called after him.
She went back into the kitchen where I lost sight of her behind all her computer monitors, but she returned a few minutes later with a cup of tea. I settled it on my knees, taking a sip with my free hand. My cheeks burned under her quiet scrutiny. Talk about awkward encounters.
“So, is Yuri doing bounty hunting now?” she asked. “How much are you worth? I did help find you after all.”
I scowled at her, my rancor fading when she smiled, showing she was only teasing. “I’m his wife,” I told her.
Her brows shot up at my bitter tone, or maybe confusion about the handcuffs. “That makes a lot more sense.”
I rattled the radiator, making her snicker. “How does it make sense?” I asked.
Her blue eyes sparkled. “It’s clear he’s crazy about you,” she said.
Ouch. I laughed to keep from crying. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Maybe you just make him crazy, then.” She shrugged, pushing a small side table over so I’d have a place to put my teacup.
“That’s a more likely story.”
She let out a long, theatrical sigh. “Love always seems so miserable. I don’t envy either of you.”
I rattled my chains again. “No one would envy me right now.” And we weren’t in love.
“Self-pity makes you weak,” she said in staccato Russian, straightening up. “Listen, I only have a crusty piece of cheese and milk I’m sure is poison by now it’s so old. I’m going to run out and get us some food, okay? Is there anything special you want?”
