“Oh yes, thank you so much,” Natasha said, going into the warm kitchen where the light streamed in from the huge windows facing the lake. She took a seat and waited for the tea to be poured, then sipped the hot liquid.
Lissette watched her carefully. “Your business in Venice was successful?”
Heat crept into Natasha’s cheeks. She hoped it didn’t show. Even if it did, she wasn’t going to explain. “It was a beginning, shall we say.”
Lissette nodded. She was the closest thing Natasha had to a friend, if a meek nanny who wouldn’t call her by her first name, no matter how many times Natasha had asked, could be a friend. Of course Lissette had no idea what Natasha really did for a living, just like she had no idea that Natasha’s name wasn’t Elena Weiss.
She believed that Natasha was an international banker and traveled extensively for work. If Lissette had had the slightest clue Natasha was really a paid assassin on a tight leash, she would have probably run screaming. Not that Natasha would have blamed her.
To keep her lives as separate as possible, Natasha maintained an apartment in Zurich that contained her weapons and disguises. When she needed to work, she went there first. She had weapons in this house, but mostly for protection should the need arise. Thankfully, Lissette didn’t question why a banker would have a gun or two lying around.
“Oh,” Lissette said as she put a pastry on a plate for Natasha. “I almost forgot. A gentleman stopped by yesterday. He said he was an old friend of your parents’.”
The hairs on Natasha’s neck prickled. Nothing about that last sentence was any good. Her parents, God rest their souls, didn’t have old friends. “What was his name?”
Lissette blinked. “I’m not sure he ever said, come to think of it. He said he’d stop by another time.”
Goosebumps chased up her arms. It was a warning from her masters in the Syndicate. There was no other explanation.
They knew where she lived and where Daria went to school. They knew everything, which was why she couldn’t do what Ian Black wanted and give him information. If anyone found out she’d told him anything at all, it wasn’t only her life on the line.
A knot of apprehension coiled tight inside. If they knew where she’d gone yesterday, she likely wouldn’t be sitting here now. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t told him anything useful, and that she didn’t plan to. Only that she’d been with him.
She trembled inside as she picked up the tea and took a sip. She couldn’t see him again.
Not ever.
Chapter Seven
“Who was she, boss?” Ty asked at breakfast.
Ian looked at the former Marine. He was casually buttering his toast.
Colt blinked as his gaze bounced between them. “Who was who? What’d I miss?”
“No one,” Ian said. “You didn’t miss anything. I took a woman to my room. We had sex and she left. End of story.”
“Damn,” Colt said at the same time Ty said, “Whoa.”
“Was she hot?” Colt asked.
Ian didn’t have to work to keep his voice even. It was what he did. Turn off the emotions and do the job. He was an expert at it. Had been since he’d been a child. It was his superpower. One of them anyway.
Except he’d said too much this time. Way to overreact to a simple question. He knew better, which made it worse.
“She was hot, and now she’s gone. It was sex, not a marriage proposal.” Ian sipped his espresso.
“I thought you were going to tell us she was a contact,” Ty said, still looking a bit surprised. “The way Tommaso Leone was glaring at the two of you, I figured she was someone important.”
She was, but Ian wasn’t admitting that. “So you missed him hitting on her earlier?”
Ty tilted his head. “I heard that some woman made him scream like a little pussy. Was that the same woman I saw you with?”
“One and the same.”
“Jesus, she didn’t look capable of getting the jump on a belligerent asshole like Leone.”
“It was classic self-defense 101,” Ian said, remembering how Natasha had turned the tables on the fucker. Man, it’d been awesome too.
Colt took a bite of his pastry. “Shit, I missed everything. Some woman kicking Tommaso’s ass and you leaving with her. I never noticed you were gone. Had my hands full with the Turkish contingent.”
“Nice segue. Now why don’t we discuss the party? Where’s Jace and Dax?”
“Right here,” Jace Kaiser said as he strode into the breakfast room. “Dax is coming.”
“Ian had a hookup last night,” Colt said, grinning. “Took a hot babe to his room while he had a house full of douchebags and spent the night doing more fun things than talking to any of them. God I wish Angie was here. Would have made the whole night better if I could have been with her.”
“For real?” Jace asked, blinking at Ian.
“For real,” Ian said casually. Jace was Natasha’s brother, but Ian didn’t care. First, he didn’t have weird rules about that kind of thing. Second, Natasha was a grown woman who could make up her own mind. And she had, at least for a night. Third, it was none of Jace’s business. Or anyone’s. “Now can we please stop speculating about my sex life and get on with business?”
“We could, but where’s the fun in that?” Ty asked. “Never seen you leave an active operation with a hookup before.”
“First time for everything. Are you telling me you kids didn’t have it under control?”
“Nope,” Ty said. “We did. Just seemed pretty intense between you two. I thought for sure she was here to give you some top-secret information. Don’t know why I didn’t think it was more basic than that.”
“Because you haven’t gotten laid in so long you can’t remember what it’s like?” Jace said with a grin.
Ty rolled his eyes. “Har har. I get laid plenty.”
“Sure you do, buddy,” Jace replied.
Colt turned his attention to Ian. “Intense, huh? So that means it was good, right?”
“Yes, it was intense,” Ian replied in clipped tones. “That’s why we had sex. I’m not a hermit. Any of you care to discuss the women in your lives and what you get up to in the dark, or are we done with the subject?”
Colt ran his fingers over his mouth like he was closing an imaginary zipper. “Nope. That’s private.”
“My point exactly, gentleman. Let’s discuss the party and what we know, and leave the sexy bits where they belong.”
“I think the Syndicate is about to host a big auction,” Colt said, all seriousness now. “I heard two of the Turks hinting about it.”
“Jesus,” Dax Freed said, entering the room in time to hear that much.
Ian couldn’t have expressed it better. The auctions were a disgusting display of extreme wealth at its worst. Billionaires gathered to bid on human beings, usually women, though sometimes young men too, as their own personal sex slaves.
Sometimes the people being auctioned agreed to it since the money could help families in distress. But other times—many times—they were snatched from their lives the way Tallie Grant had been. Still, it didn’t matter whether they agreed or not—the entire thing was exploitative and disgusting.