James

Marianna and Millie sat perched on the edge of the couch with twin expressions of innocence pasted on their eerily similar features. How no one immediately knew they were related the moment they saw them in a room together blew his mind. Then again, Nadia and Marianna seemed like two different women. She had come a long way in the last year.

Lochlan leaned against the wall, glaring at the women—particularly his wife. He'd rolled his pale blue shirtsleeves up to his elbows, and he folded his arms over his chest. Every inch of him radiated fury, but I'd known Millie long enough to know his rigid stance or angry stare did not put her off. The way her eyes darkened everything they darted to his bare forearms was a dead giveaway. If she had seen the sheer terror that choked the man when she disappeared, she wouldn't be nearly so nonchalant right now.

Marianna, on the other hand, wouldn't give a damn. She told me often enough she wasn't responsible for the way anyone felt where she was involved. The only person I'd ever seen her show the slightest bit of remorse for worrying was her mother, Mrs. Reed. Certainly, she didn't give a shit that I'd lived on antacids since meeting her, and tonight, I thought I was having a heart attack when we discovered both women missing only hours after finding out Dmitry was in town.

"Is this what we're going to do all night?" Marianna asked, studying the shape of her nails and stretching her legs out in front of her.

The simple shift drew my attention to her outfit again, and now that I knew she was okay, seeing her dressed like this boiled my blood in a different way. An entirely unwelcome way. Leather covered her legs from toe to mid thigh, and her leather shorts barely qualified as underwear. Those two things together were enough to send most of my blood racing straight to my cock, but the lace and leather corset she wore that pushed her ample breasts to her chin drained whatever blood my body tried to send to my brain, leaving me breathless and dizzy.

My teeth ground together. This reaction was fucking unacceptable. Until Marianna came along, I'd been content to live in a world of computers and numbers. They were familiar and stable and predictable. Exactly how I liked my life. Everything Marianna Reed wasn't.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Lochlan said, ignoring his sister-in-law's question. I sent up a prayer of thanks that he was the one who brought up the outfit.

"Me?" Millie asked, pointing to her dress. It was a red sheath dress bordering on too short, but I'd seen worse in the clubs.

"We'll talk about what you're wearing later," Lochlan snapped. "I'm talking to Marianna."

Marianna shrugged. "It came from Millie's closet. I just put it on."

Lochlan pushed off the wall. His fingers curled and uncurled in a fist. "Is that true?"

"Aren't we focusing on the wrong thing here?" Millie asked with a nervous chuckle. A bright blush stained her golden cheeks.

"We're going to focus on everything, but right now I want to know why you own an outfit not fit for a prostitute."

"I thought you were a lot more sex positive than this—"

"Mari, shut up."

Millie rolled her eyes. "I bought it for your birthday."

I coughed into my hands as Lochlan cleared his throat and loosened his tie. Marianna rolled her lips together to fight back a smirk, and her eyes glittered when they met mine. I returned the smile until I remembered why we were even privy to that information, and my lips curled down sharply. She looked away immediately, a red flush moving up her neck.

Lochlan inhaled, putting his hands on his hips and looking at the ceiling. When he finally spoke, his words were soft and earnest. "If you wanted to go out tonight, why didn't you just ask? We could have arranged security. You know if you want it, I'll make it happen."

I crossed the room to stand by him. This was the question I wanted answered tonight. Not a single part of me believed these two had a wild itch to go out clubbing. They might be several years younger, but they had never been the type to party. Something drew them out tonight.

"I saw—"

"Millie."

Millie put her hand on Marianna's leg and shook her head. Turning back to face her husband, she said, "I was editing the wedding photos I took last week. Dmitry was in them."

If we didn't already know Dmitry was in the area, our reactions would have been much more dramatic. As it was, I wanted to vomit knowing he had been that close to her, and that it had taken us this long to find out he was there. A week. He had an entire week to get closer to Millie and Marianna.

"You went out tonight knowing he's in the city?" Lochlan shouted. "What the fuck?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Were you using yourselves as bait?"

Marianna jumped up from the couch. "That's exactly what we were doing."

"Have you lost your minds?" I asked as Lochlan said, "Why wouldn't you tell us? Why wouldn't you ask for our help?"

"Because he would know we weren't alone. We wanted to catch him off guard. To make him see us like this and know he couldn't touch. Everything he's done so far has us chasing him. It gives him a chance to be calculated and make mistakes. We're never going to get rid of him this way."

"Lochlan."

Millie's voice broke as she walked to her husband. He grabbed her hand before he could lay it on him. He shook his head, grabbed their coats, and pointed toward the door. She held his gaze for several seconds before nodding.

"We can talk about this more tomorrow," he said, addressing me. "When I'm not considering murder."

"I'll call you in the morning."

The door slammed shut behind them. Marianna twisted her hair into a knot on top of her head and wrapped a ponytail around it. When she realized I hadn't made a move to leave, she said, "You can go."

"Absolutely not. You and I know that you're the one who came up with this absurd idea. I'm not leaving you alone all night so you can come up with excuses or worse. Sneak out and try to take care of Dmitry on your own."

She bristled. "You're out of line. You work for me, and I think you forget that sometimes."

"Correction. Lochlan is my boss."

Her brown eyes widened. "Even better. Go back to your desk job. I don't need a bodyguard. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."

We were inches apart now, and her scent washed over me. Sweat from dancing and beneath it the sweet and spicy perfume she favored. Everywhere she went, she left it behind. Even the seatbelts in my car smelled like her.

"You think you're invincible because you were raised to be an assassin, but you're human, Marianna. You can make mistakes."

"Maybe," she admitted. "But I'm still more qualified than half the men you have following me. And certainly more qualified than a pretty boy hacker."

With a growl, I struck. She never saw me coming, and I bent over the kitchen table, pinning her arms behind her back as she kicked out. To avoid being hit by her spiked heel, I straddled her legs and pinned them between mine. Leaning over her body, I pulled back her hair and put my mouth against her ear.

"Your pride is going to get you killed."

I released her and stepped back. She slid to her knees and gripped the edge of the table. Neither of us spoke before I finally turned to leave, locking her door behind me.

"You can go," I said to the man standing guard at her door. "I've got the rest of the shift."