Page 21 of Emerald Malice

“Does your friend spend a lot of time at Neon Moon?”

Those green eyes sharpen. “Leave Katya out of it. She may have horrible taste in men, but that doesn’t make her guilty of… whatever it is you’re accusing her of.”

“Spying for Nikolai Rostov.”

“Spying?” she splutters in disbelief. “You obviously don’t know Katya Petrova very well. If you did, you would know that she’s the least subtle person in the world. She’d make a horrible spy.”

“Petrova? She’s Russian?”

Natalia’s cheeks flood scarlet. “Listen, she’s not… she’s not like you. She’s not part of your crowd.”

I round the kitchen counter slowly, cornering her against the sink. “And what is my crowd, exactly?”

Her eyes slink down to my waist and I realize she’s just clocked the gun in my holster. “Oh, God,” she whispers. “It’s true…”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Her gaze locks on mine. “You’re in some sort of… mafia. The Russian variety. Katya said it’s called a… a?—”

“Bratva.”

Goosebumps spread across her throat. The moonlight streaming in from the window behind her highlights the soft, wispy hairs on her arms, each of them standing on end.

“Your friend seems to know an awful lot for someone you claim is completely out of the loop.”

Her jaw tightens and she pushes herself off the sink. “Katya was just repeating to me all the bullshit your brother told her!” she cries out. “She didn’t actually believe any of it.”

“Until tonight. When you two little butterflies decided to fly right into a spider’s web. You know what happens when you try to escape a spider’s web, don’t you?” I take another step towards her and she backs further against the sink. “You thrash and you fight and you scream and you beg. But the more resistance you put up, the deeper you get entangled.”

She tries to put a brave face on. “Thanks for the Discovery Channel lesson, but I’m more of an HGTV girl myself.”

I put a palm against her slim, trembling throat. Softly. Just to feel her pulse. “You don’t get to walk away from me until I say you can, lastochka.”

She’s gone very still. Her eyes are rippling with fear, but she lifts her chin.

“You’re good at this, aren’t you?” she whispers. “Threats. Intimidation.”

“If you want to call it that.”

“Are all your victims helpless women?”

I press myself against her, feeling her soft curves meet the hard ridges of my body. “I’m willing to bet you’re not as helpless as you pretend to be.”

“Yeah?” Her breath is warm. She leans closer. “You’re not wrong.”

Out of nowhere, she reaches towards my holster.

Before I can stop her, she snatches my gun and aims it right at my face.

I can only laugh. I wonder if she knows that I could disarm her so easily. One swift move is all it would take. But frankly…

I’m dying to know what she’ll do next.

8

NATALIA

What the hell was I thinking?

---