Page 11 of Seduction (Wicked Vows)

Did you get her

I respond with one word:

yes

Nothing else. Someone’s checking off a box to make sure she’s here but doesn’t give a shit beyond that.

Works for me.

I pull out my own phone while she’s in there and quickly shoot a message to Aleks.

All clear. You see anything?

No one suspects a thing. All good here. Markov is gone, and good riddance. He had few friends. Our plan is working. Once you’re there, you’re golden. Ivanov is traveling and no one else will know you. You’ll meet with the Ivanov Bratva but keep it brief. None of them have met Markov yet but the less contact you have with them the better

Perfect

I slide my phone into my pocket just as she exits and we leave to board.

“I should have had a stiff drink,” she says, her voice shaking. I stare straight ahead and pretend I don’t notice the way her slim shoulders tremble.

Vera takes a step closer to me.

I can tell she’s trying to keep herself calm with deep breaths, as she squares her shoulders and looks straight ahead. We have our carry-on bags with us, but she insisted we take the one that feels like it’s loaded with bricks on board. I carry that one and walk behind her as we board.

I am definitely not used to the size of these seats. Whoever booked these tickets was only considering her and not a potential add-on. I hardly fit. Again, I mentally curse her asshole father for shortchanging her. She should be flying business class, in the lap of luxury, not crammed next to me in coach on a ten-hour flight.

“Wow,” she says in a whisper. “Uh, tight quarters.”

She looks over at me and shakes her head.

“Markov, that can’t be comfortable for you.”

No matter how hard I try, half my body is practically in her seat. I lean back, cross my arms over my chest, and shake my head at her. I have a job, and I’m going to do it.

Once we get to Moscow, I’ll have access to her father’s whereabouts as well as his inner circle of acquaintances. But for now, I have one job to do, and I aim to do it well.

An hour in, and my muscles ache from holding myself away from her. I adjust to no avail, and a toddler sitting in front of us with his mother begins to wail.

I know the feeling, buddy.

“Oh, poor thing,” Vera says. “Probably his ears.”

The mother tries all manner of things with him, but the little guy can’t be soothed. I stifle a grumble. If I have to keep myself stuffed into this little seat and listen to a screaming kid for nine more hours. . .

Vera looks through the hole between the two seats and tickles the little boy’s foot. He stops. I give her a sharp look. It isn’t the safest method, instigating contact with strangers, but she doesn’t seem to give a shit. Excellent.

I sit up straight and try to ignore the little guy who’s now avidly poking little things through the gap between the seats.

“I don’t like flying either,” she whispers to him. “I’m scared. Are you scared?”

He looks through the hole from me to her, then back to me. “Scared,” he whispers. With wide brown eyes and curly blond hair, he looks about my niece Ivy’s age, three or four. The little guy’s cheeks are red from crying. His mother smiles at Vera as she talks to him.

“The man next to me, he’s my friend but he scares me, too. I mean, look at him.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

The boy stares at me, and his lower lip trembles. Shit.

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