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“Lot of Koalitsias on it. You are heading that list. You and anyone loyal to you.” His ominous words filled the air like smoke.
“That means you’re on it?” I asked bluntly. He nodded. “Da,” I said with a sigh, “Can’t say I’m surprised. All the sharks think I’m set to take over. . .” It was something I thought I wouldn’t have to look at doing for another handful of years . . .and, if I were honest, something I wasn’t sure I wanted to do at all.
“Da, and your father thinks you should be considering that too,” Shura intoned seriously. There was no judgment in his voice, nor any kind of opinion injected one way or another. He was just telling me, glancing away for a moment despite now having my full attention.
“Da,” I sighed, pushing off of the Mercedes and throwing the spent cigarette to the ground. The heel of my boot ground it into the pavement. “You have time for a drink?” I asked.
“This early, Dmitry?” Shura snorted. “Nyet. I have men to find, men to talk to. Work to do.” He stood, stretching to his full height before opening the door of his car. “The Motherland is calling, my friend, maybe that’s something you ought to consider.” He tapped the top of the door frame, slid into the seat, and put the vehicle into gear without any further goodbye.
The sound of his engine humming to life and his tires against the pavement served as the backdrop to me walking up to the front door. I hadn’t quite gotten used to the white interior of the condo yet. Not any more than I had gotten used to coming home to another body waiting. The smell of strong coffee and cinnamon greeted me as I stepped through, and a pale blond head popped around the half-wall as an expectant sort of surprise.
Manya.
She always seemed to appear at the most opportune moments, always when my mind was laden with worries. And like all the times before, all of those thoughts were immediately put on hold.
She wore the robe I’d bought for her, clinging to her curves like a second skin. Its pale color highlighted that pretty, bought tan. Her black eyes moved over me inquisitively, her full lips parted slightly, but I didn’t bother pausing to say hello.
I crossed the space between us, hauling her into my body and allowing my lips to fall over hers until all I could taste was the hazelnut coffee on her tongue and the faintest trace of cinnamon toast. Her hands rolled up the front of my torso, her fingers rubbing into the fabric there and then stopping suddenly, pulling back.
“Your blood?” she asked, seeming to process it more than I had.
“Nyet.” My thumb rolled over the edge of her chin as she stared up at me in further question, but I wouldn’t offer any further detail. “Do you want to take a vacation?”
She blinked heavily, obviously not having expected that. “What?”
“Do you want to take a vacation?” I repeated more slowly, my arm banding around her waist to stop her from stepping back from me in her surprise. “Russia is pretty this time of year. . .”
She snorted, eyes narrowing slightly. “Russia is a vacation now, or are you talking business?”
“It can be both,” I answered easily, my fingers tightening slightly. “We go for a few weeks, visit home, you meet some people. . . . I’m going either way, but I’d like to take you with me.”
After a short pause, she asked, “Do I have time to think it over?”
My lips quirked, my face dropping to hers once more. “You have as long as it takes us to get out of the shower and go to my father’s. Maybe a few hours after that.” I buried my mouth in hers, my tongue pushing past her lips and whatever set of arguments she might have been about to bring up. I swallowed them, lifting her lithe body up into mine and waiting for her thighs to spread before moving, already allowing my mind to wander with imagery of her in that large tiled shower upstairs.
