Page 32 of Power's Fall

Montana too was now dressed, hair still wet from the shower. He stood off to the side, watching Vadisk with folded arms.

Vadisk was pacing like a caged tiger.

Dahlia walked over to the wet bar, hopping up to sit on the cool marble counter. Vadisk paused his pacing and looked at her. “I shouldn’t have touched you.”

“Okay,” Dahlia said slowly. “Why? You behaved like a bodyguard.”

“No, I held you.”

“You picked me up and moved me away from a dangerous situation.”

“And then you touched my arm.”

Dahlia raised a brow. “So is the problem that you touched me, or that I touched you?”

“Both.” Vadisk went back to pacing.

“I don’t think this is as big an issue as you’re making it,” Montana said.

Dahlia braced the heels of her hands on the edge of the counter, leaning forward. “Unfortunately, I don’t think he’s wrong. One of the men said something like ‘look at how he’s touching her,’ and the other said, ‘and she’s touching him.’”

Montana grunted, frowning as he processed that information.

“I simply don’t understand the context for it, or why exactly it’s a problem,” Dahlia finished.

“Because they’ll think we’re a menage,” Vadisk said.

Dahlia raised her eyebrows. “Why? It’s not like this resort’s only visitors nowadays are people in poly relationships. Most of the resort guests are wealthy Russians. When I was researching and planning, it was clear that groups of friends come here and share a villa.”

“But we’re not wealthy Russians. And we know that someone is, right now, looking for foreigners to blackmail.”

“You think the combination of us being foreigners, and there being three of us, is the problem.” Montana leaned one shoulder against the wall, his gaze tracking Vadisk, who was still pacing.

“Yes. And the way I touched her would have confirmed it.”

“I didn’t see all of that part. How, exactly, did he touch you?” Montana looked over at Dahlia.

“Originally they tried to push their way in, but Vadisk blocked them. He had gotten both of them out the door. Then one of them held up a letter and said it was for me. I leaned to take it, but the other man sort of lunged forward.”

“Shit.”

“Yes.” Vadisk stopped pacing to look at Montana, seeming almost relieved that Montana now sounded worried.

“Vadisk got in front of me, putting himself between me and the soldiers, but then he picked me up and carried me away from the door, and when he put me down, I grabbed his arm.”

Montana waited, then raised his brow. “That’s it?”

Dahlia nodded. “Yes, that’s it. But the comment they made indicates that though you and I think that falls within the realm of acceptable touching between a bodyguard and the body they’re guarding, the soldiers clearly thought otherwise.”

“Which means Vadisk might be right—they already suspect we’re a trinity and are looking for evidence to confirm that.” Montana stared at the floor, frowning in thought for a moment. “What did the message say?”

Vadisk shoved a hand in his pocket. “He dropped the paper. I grabbed it just before I got the door closed.”

Dahlia leaned forward, hand outstretched, but Vadisk shook his head, unfolding the bit of paper and turning it so they could see both sides were blank.

“Nothing?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Vadisk agreed.

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