“They don’t see it that way.”
“It doesn’t matter how they see it. I can return to the US tomorrow.”
“And with their EU passports, they could easily follow you.”
That was highly unlikely now that the Kuliks were on a watch list due to their association with Laskin, but Juliette couldn’t know anything about that. She stared at Rand through the window and smiled. “Maybe I should marry the himbo, then.”
Nothing about his body language revealed he’d heard, but he was wearing sunglasses and she could imagine his eyes narrowing with promised retribution.
“Make him sign a prenup.”
Kira rose from her seat and pitched her empty cup and plastic spoon into the trash. “Poor guy looks like he’s melting faster than his cone. Let’s go to your gallery and see if you’ve got anything gorgeous and expensive I can convince him to buy. It will be a good way to find out exactly how deep his pockets are.”
The artwork on display at Laskin’s gallery was almost all glass and included inexpensive traditional Gozo glass designs along with pricier works by Juliette and other Maltese glass artists.
Rand made a show of interest in a flower bouquet sculpture that Kira assured him was a bargain at ten thousand euros.
It was a lovely piece, and if the money wouldn’t also pay a cut to a man who’d used his wealth to ambush and murder unarmed SEALs on American soil, he would have considered actually buying it as a gift for Kira, who clearly loved the piece.
It was probably good that there was no way he’d give Laskin a dime of his money, because it was far too soon to be considering such an extravagant gift.
But damn, the way Kira’s eyes lit when she looked at art that pleased her was mesmerizing. He’d do better to use that ten grand to take her to Italy or France.
His cell phone rang right on schedule, and he slipped away from Kira and Juliette to take the call. He stepped outside to avoid the gallery cameras, which likely didn’t have sound but might allow for lip reading.
He stood in the shade of an awning three doors down, watching the street for Laskin, who was on his way to meet them. Sure enough, a large SUV turned onto the busy street and stopped in front of the gallery.
Rand tucked away his phone and approached the gallery entrance just as Grigory Laskin climbed out of the rear seat.
Rand was deep in character, but still it took everything in him to smile at and again shake hands with the man who’d orchestrated the deaths of the other three SEALs on Teague Collins’s Fire Team. Chris Flyte had been AOIC of the full team, and he’d been a specific target of the op.
Rand had nothing to do with that training, nor had he been part of the failed rescue of Laskin’s daughter, which was why he could give his name and shake his hand without fear, but that didn’t make his role easy.
He wasn’t a covert operator, and he’d had no idea what he was stepping into when he asked to be allowed to go to Malta. But now that he was in it, he would do everything he could to prevent another attack on his base. Even smile at Laskin and greet him like a friend. He was Kira’s sketchy new boyfriend, and he wanted something from the wealthy Russian.
“It’s good to meet you again. I was sorry we had to run off yesterday, but Kira wasn’t feeling well.”
The oligarch gave Rand a sharp look, but didn’t comment on the excuse.
They stepped into the gallery. Kira and Juliette were chatting in the corner. Laskin’s gaze landed on the two women, his expression unreadable. “Are you hoping to start a bidding war between Reuben and myself? Reuben to pay you to take Kira back to the US and me to pay you to take Kira off your hands?”
“Kira is not mine to sell. Nor is she Kulik’s.”
“But you will take my money.”
He said nothing. Only a fool would admit anything up front, and he might come across as a himbo to Juliette, but Kira wouldn’t be with him if he was an obvious dolt.
Kira and Juliette approached. Laskin kissed his mistress on the cheek while Kira tucked herself against Rand. She didn’t bother with shaking hands or even smiling at Laskin. Unlike his character, she didn’t have an agenda when it came to the billionaire, except to find out about her father.
As if on cue, she said, “Juliette tells me your art collection is quite magnificent. Did my father assist you with any of your purchases?”
“It depends on which father you mean.”
“I believe I’ve made it clear I want nothing from the Kuliks. I certainly don’t consider him my father.”
“Whether you consider him your father or not, biology is fact.”
“I haven’t taken a DNA test. While we can be certain of who my mother is and know Reuben is my brother—of whom I have vague but fond memories—any resemblance to him comes from our mother. I have no reason to think Conrad Hanson isn’t my biological father.”
They’d done the math, and it was possible. Conrad could have been in Germany around the time Kira had been conceived, but even she had acknowledged that was likely to be nothing more than wishful thinking.
Rand figured it was more likely Anna’s relationship with Conrad started once the Kuliks began spending months of each year in Malta, as it was here that Anna would have had more freedom than she did in East Germany. Perhaps she even realized she could get her lover’s help in escaping her husband. The risk to her would have been too great from behind the Iron Curtain.
He turned to Kira and nodded for them to step aside. He lowered his voice, but not so much that they couldn’t be overheard. “I know you wanted to visit the megalithic site today, but that call was from my agent. Late last night, my editor sent comments on the draft I turned in a few weeks ago, and it’s a problem. Bad enough for my agent to call me before dawn in New York. I need to read through the editorial letter and come up with a response.”
Kira’s expression was the picture of crestfallen. “But we’re on vacation.”
“Technically, it’s a research trip for me, and being self-employed, I can’t afford to put off my publisher just because I’m out of town. If they don’t accept the draft—and that’s what this is—they don’t have to pay the second half of my advance.” He glanced toward the ten-thousand-euro sculpture he’d made a show of wanting. “Until I get this resolved, extravagant purchases are on hold.”
While draft rejection was a realistic scenario, he wasn’t at risk of that today. He was only a hundred pages into his next book and given his day job, the contract for book three didn’t have a set due date yet. But it was a lie urgent enough for him to need to work today and curb spending.
“We should return the boat, then. We could get a hotel for a fraction of the cost.”
He shook his head. “I’ll be okay. I can fix it. My editor will come around. My laptop has the file, and I have links to all my research materials, but I’ll need better Wi-Fi than my cell can offer. My call kept cutting out. Coverage is worse here than it was on Malta, and I’m going to need to Zoom with my agent. Probably have to screen share.”
“I can get us a hotel room with Wi-Fi,” Kira suggested. She wrinkled her nose. “We really should return the boat.”
