It was Airiana who pulled away from him, her heart beating too fast, the blood rushing through her veins, adrenaline pouring into her body. She turned away from him without looking at his face. She knew it already, every line, every plane, his masculine jaw that could be set so stubbornly.
She went barefoot, using air to cushion her feet. She pulled the door open slowly, knowing Maxim would fade into the background like he did, but would be in the precise location to see as much as possible when she pulled the door as wide as it could go.
A man stood to one side of the door and his assault rifle was pointed squarely at her head. She stopped, her eyes going wide with fear, her empty hands clutching at her heart. "What's wrong?" she asked, looking around her as if expecting to see pirates.
"Where are the others?" he asked, never wavering for a moment.
"With my father. He asked me to take a walk around the deck for a few minutes. Is something wrong? Should I get him?" She glanced at her watch. "He said he needed to talk to those other men and Maxim alone for about ten minutes." She half turned as if she would go back inside.
"No, your father's right. Take your walk." He lowered his weapon and indicated her feet. "What happened?"
"Maxim dropped a glass when those other men came in and I stepped on the shards. One of them helped me." She smiled at him and stepped around him with a little cheery wave.
Relief flooded her. He'd bought her story. It was plausible. The three agents entered, and of course her father would send her out before they killed Maxim. The guard probably figured they'd kill him and toss his body overboard while she was taking her little stroll. If she were lucky, he'd go in to help the others. She'd left the door cracked partway just to entice him.
You were born for this kind of work.
The grudging respect in Maxim's voice settled her churning stomach. She had been most careful not to block his line of fire to the guard, just in case.
My guardian angel, she replied back. Her palm itched and she rubbed her thigh absently. Thank you. You gave me confidence.
He gave a little cough of derision. I've been called many things in my life, but guardian angel is not one of them.
I guess no one's ever gotten the chance to know you. I'm coming up on the two on the west side. They're crouched low and both have their weapons trained on me.
She heard his curse echoing through her mind, but as she approached the two guards, she blocked out everything but her story, needing to believe it herself. Both men rose, looking around as if expecting an army with her.
"Hi. I'm Airiana, Theodotus's daughter." It was shocking to say the words aloud, almost as if just by saying such a thing she was betraying her country. "My father told me to take a stroll around the deck. Is it okay to come on this side?"
One of the men lowered his weapon, nodding his head. "Of course it is. Don't get too close to the rail. The ride is fairly smooth, but the ocean can act up at any time."
"What's your name?" She tried to look friendly as she took another couple of steps to get closer to them.
"I'm Akim and that's Feliks." He indicated his partner.
Feliks lowered his rifle as well, giving her a tentative smile, looking her over, not as a potential enemy, but as a woman. She widened her smile to include him.
"Do you know my father?"
Both shook their heads. Feliks stepped closer to her, into her personal space. He actually put a hand on her shoulder as if to steady her. She shot him in the neck with the dart gun and turned to fire the second shot at the other guard as Feliks went down, shock on his face.
Akim threw himself on the deck and kicked out at her, hooking his ankle around hers and bringing her to the ground hard. She retained her hold on the dart gun, and rolled over and over to try to put space between them. On the second roll she fired another dart at Akim. It hit his thigh, but fell to the deck.
Akim punched her hard in the eye. She actually saw stars. One moment the world was right and the next it was spinning like mad, the edges blurring and stars rushing at her from every direction. She went down, her legs turning to rubber, stomach churning, her vision blurring. She managed to raise the dart gun as he came at her again. Squeezing the trigger, she fell back, hitting the back of her head on the deck.
Akim's eyes filled with fury as he slapped at the small dart that had hit his arm. He swung his fist at her face a second time. She closed her eyes, but the blow never landed.
Akim flew backward, and Maxim was there, kicking the gun away and stepping in close to deliver three wicked punches to Akim's face. Each blow knocked the man backward until he was up against the railing. Maxim's elbow smashed into his face and then he reached down as if he might upend Akim over the railing into the water.
"Stop," she blurted out. "Just stop. He's done."
Maxim let go of Akim and the guard toppled to the deck, his legs no longer supporting him. He turned slowly to look down at her, sprawled as she was between the two downed agents.
She couldn't imagine what she looked like, but blood trickled down her face from the cut up by her eye. She wiped at it with her hand and managed to smear it.
Maxim winced visibly. "Don't. You do that again and I'm throwing the bastard into the sea." He crouched down beside her and touched the swelling around her eye with gentle fingers. "Remind me never to listen to you again."
"I distracted them," she pointed out, and tried to sit up.
He instantly swept his arm around her and helped her into a sitting position. For one moment her head seemed to explode and then it settled down again into a pounding rhythm. There was a roaring in her ears that hadn't been there before.
"Maybe I need to lie down," she said. She didn't want to throw up on him, not after trying to prove a point. No one had ever really hit her before. Not like that. She'd worked at self-defense in the gym, but neither Levi nor Thomas ever punched her in the face. When they broke through her guard, they pulled their punches.
Maxim gathered her up and lifted her right off the deck. "I'm going to put you in a lounge chair while I clean up this mess. The last thing we want is for the steward to see all the guards looking dead on his deck."
"They aren't dead, are they?" she asked suspiciously.
She didn't bother to look but laid her head against his shoulder and let him carry her to the forward deck. He felt solid, and she could feel his every muscle ripple subtly while he carried her.
"No, but I'm still considering killing them on principle alone," he warned. "Next time, don't let anyone punch you. It upsets me to see bruises on you."
"So next time I'll just let them know you'd be really unhappy if they decided to hit me." In spite of still feeling a little sick and her head wanting to explode, she couldn't help the laughter welling up. He wasn't finding anything humorous about it all, which made it all the funnier to her.
"Maxim, really, I'm all right. I wasn't fast enough getting off the second dart, that's all."
"You kept your head and your weapon," he said. "I'm proud of you."
She didn't point out that he didn't sound proud, he sounded surly. "Do you think you could find me something to drink after you take care of all the guards? What are you going to do with them?"
"Actually, they aren't technically guards, they're assassins. They were sent here to kill me, not guard you. Just to clarify." He settled her carefully on one of the plush loungers, in the shade on the owner's private deck.
"I didn't think of them like that," Airiana said. "I might change my mind and let you throw them overboard after all."
He did laugh then. It wasn't long or hearty, but he did give her a small laugh. "That's my girl. Let the bastard punch you in the face and we have to play nice, but someone threatens me and they can go overboard."
"Well, I do have my priorities," she answered.
He pulled out his first aid kit and broke open a gel pack. "Keep this over your eye until I get back. I won't be long." He put a cushion behind her head.
She st
retched her legs out and took the cold pack gratefully. The instant cold took some of the sting from her swelling eye. "Don't be long. I feel vulnerable and a little exposed lying here. And I'm not certain I could get up if someone threatened me."
He put the dart gun next to her hand. "You can always get up if you need to, Airiana. It's a matter of will."
She knew he would always get up, even if it was with his very last breath. He was made that way. Or trained that way. She preferred lying on the lounger and waiting for him to bring her back a bottle of ice-cold water. She planned on fantasizing. She was on the yacht with him. No killer aboard. Lying in the sun and maybe dozing off.
Airiana waved him off and closed her eyes. She had a vivid imagination and was going to use it. Weren't they somewhere off the beautiful Mexican coast? She could get behind that. She needed a vacation . . .
Are you certain he didn't give you a concussion?
Don't rain on my parade. This yacht is the real deal. If we didn't have all those killers aboard, and we weren't heading to Colombia so they could fly me to Russia where I'd be a prisoner the rest of my life and probably tortured on a regular basis, I think I could make this a fun trip.
You're a little crazy, you know that?
She loved the amusement in his voice. She was in his mind and there was little that amused him. Little that mattered in his world at all. But she did. He hadn't meant to let her inside, but he had and now it was too late. She was there and she loved being that one. The only one.
Well. Yes. Probably. I might be a little crazy, but it's the only way to be in your company. Has it ever occurred to you that you attract the wrong kind of people?
I do what?
Attract the wrong kind of people. Take this yacht for example. We're not even going to mention the whack jobs aboard the container ship. Just this nice little yacht. On the surface, it all appears to be wonderful. Maybe it was when they were sailing around enjoying the sun and fun.
She paused to adjust the ice pack, looking at the ocean with her one good eye. He was dragging two men into the den and not being the least bit careful about it. She knew, not because she could see him through her physical vision, but because she was reading the air and knew the exact position of everyone on deck. Someone was coming up the stairs from below.
Then you came aboard, Maxim, and we discover that this isn't the nice yacht we thought it was. My father isn't the nice man you thought he was. Those men aren't the nice deck crew I thought they were. No one is nice at all. See, you attract the wrong people. When you think about the law of averages, this shouldn't be happening everywhere you go.
The stairs were to her left. She shifted her position enough that she could see the top of the stairs. She could hear footsteps. No hurrying. Whoever was coming up the stairs didn't appear to be alarmed. She forced air through her lungs.
What is it? His voice was demanding.
She didn't want to answer him. She didn't want there to be any more trouble. She just wanted time to stop for a moment and give her space to breathe. Nothing. I don't know. Someone coming up the stairs.
You should have told me immediately.
He's here. She smiled and waved at the man topping the stairs. He was dressed all in white.
"Miss Solovyov?" The man walked right up to the end of the lounger. "I'm Gorya, your steward. The chef is preparing lunch and wanted to know if there was anything you were allergic to or didn't care for."
"Tell him no allergies and I'm willing to try nearly anything. Please thank him for asking."
He frowned and moved closer. "Did you hurt yourself? I have some medical training. Perhaps I can help?"
"No, my father found me a cold pack. I was a little clumsy, broke a glass and stepped in the shards. It sounds crazy, but I fell and hit the side of my head on that little part of the bar that sticks out. I'm not used to the way the boat shifts out from under me."
"If you're feeling a little seasick I can get you something for that."
"I'm okay now." She knew Maxim was close. The middle of her palm itched horribly. She pressed her hand against her thigh, fingers feeling for the dart gun. Just the feel of it at her fingertips reduced her anxiety. "How many crew members? I've never been on a yacht this size before."
"There are eight of us who work full time. I have to find out what your father would like for lunch. For some reason the intercom wasn't working."
"He went to lie down. I think I gave him a headache." She gave a little laugh as if every daughter the world over could give headaches to their fathers. "Maxim is probably hungry though. He's around somewhere." She did her best to sound offhand.
Hopefully the crew wasn't privy to the plan to kill Maxim. She doubted it. The less they knew the better. Sorbacov wouldn't want witnesses. More than likely Sorbacov would have everyone killed that observed the murder aboard the yacht.
I'm not certain if he even knows I'm a kidnap victim and here against my will. He appears pretty innocent, Maxim. She didn't want Maxim to hurt the steward if it wasn't necessary.
Theodotus told me they believe your life was threatened and that was why there is extra security. Still. Keep that dart gun handy.
He came up behind the steward. "Are you all right, Miss Solovyov? This man isn't bothering you, is he?"
"Gorya was being friendly and most helpful. He was just checking to make certain I'm not allergic to anything." Don't sound so scary. He went white.
I'm supposed to be scary. I'm your bodyguard.
Do you see my cut feet and black eye? Perhaps you need another line of work.
Perhaps you should do what you're told instead of insisting on playing the heroine. Maxim lifted her bandaged foot and inspected the bloody gauze. He glanced at the steward over his shoulder. "Where do you keep your first aid kit?"
"Up here on the sun deck, there's one behind the bar. I can show you if you'd like. I was telling Miss Solovyov that I have some medical training."
"She cut her feet on glass," Maxim said.
Gorya nodded. "She told me she was a little seasick and dropped her glass. Her eye is really swelling where she hit the side of her head."
Nice story.
He bought it, didn't he?
Only because you look so damn innocent. I wouldn't have bought it for a second.
Only because you're cynical. She yawned before she could stop herself. Of course Maxim saw. He was looking at the steward, but he still caught her hastily covered yawn. "You'll need to rest, Miss Solovyov."
Her breath hissed out between her teeth. "Both of you had better call me Airiana. I don't answer to that name. I wasn't raised with it."
"For your own protection, as well as for your father's," Maxim interjected smoothly for the steward's sake.
"Whatever. Call me Airiana, please."
You could act like a spoiled rich girl. They expect it of you. The more manners you have and the friendlier you are, the more likely it will blow your cover.
Go away. You're giving me a headache.
It's only fair. You've given me one from the moment I laid eyes on you.
Airiana burst out laughing. "Go away, both of you. My feet are fine, but if either of you are heading this way again, I would love a bottle of water. No fancy glasses, no liquor, just plain old water in a plain old bottle."
Maxim pulled a bottle from under his coat and held it out to her. You ask and I provide.
She resisted rolling her eyes. "Thanks, Maxim. I really appreciate it. And, Gorya, please relay to the chef that at this point, anything will be fine with me. Please allow my father to sleep through lunch."
"The security team is working at the moment," Maxim said. "They're in the sitting room and don't want to be disturbed. If there's anything you need them for, just let me know and I'll take care of it."
Deliberately Airiana made a face. "Such a fuss. Really, Maxim, you and Theodotus worry far too much."
Maxim ignored her, reaching out lazily and taking the bottle of water from her to unsc
rew the cap. He handed it back and turned his attention to Gorya. "I know you need to get back to the chef, but if you could show me where the first aid kit is . . ."
"Of course." The steward was all business. "Right over here." He led Maxim to the bar and reached behind him, pulling out a fairly large box.
"Thanks." Maxim nodded at the man dismissively, and Gorya immediately took the cue and hurried down the stairs.
"Why make a big deal about the first aid box?" Airiana asked. She was beginning to realize everything Maxim did was for a reason.
"I wanted him to remember I asked for it. I can use the same ploy with the captain. I'll want to get into the control room and turn this thing around. We'll need Theodotus for that."
"He won't cooperate."
"Of course he will. Your father doesn't want to die. He has a big ego, Airiana, and he's convinced himself the world can't get along without him, so it won't be a big leap for him to help us. The story will be easy enough. The team doesn't trust the contact in Colombia. Russia and Colombia are friendly, but we believe you and your father are far too valuable for certain opportunists to pass up."
"I see. Theodotus will definitely like that explanation."
"No doubt he'll come to believe it. It isn't that far from the truth. If it was known where you were, and that your father was with you, every terrorist in the world with a grain of sense would be after the two of you. You'd better believe that Evan Shackler-Gratsos is looking for you right now."
He laid the first aid kit open on the deck beside the lounger and carefully began to unwind the blood-spattered wraps on her left foot. To keep from wincing--she didn't want him to know it still hurt--she took a long swig of water. The cool liquid slid down her parched throat. She hadn't realized how thirsty--or tired--she was.
While he worked on her feet, she glanced up at the clouds. The sun was bright, shining on the water, the sky a deep blue. A few lazy clouds drifted overhead and at first she idly tried to see animals in their fluffy shapes. When she was a child she'd played that game to stop herself from noticing patterns.
Patterns were everywhere. In the clouds. In the waves. In the shadows thrown onto the deck by the sun. There was no escaping from them. She took another long drink as he applied more antibiotic cream and a new wrap.