Page 76 of Frozen Heart

Radimir stared at the butterfly stickers and peeling paintwork. “That?!”

“No one’s going to think you’re a Bratva boss,” I pointed out, and we hurried across the street. My legs were starting to throb already. I’d thought about bringing my crutches, but they’d make me stand out a mile, plus they aren’t made for sneaking. For as long as this crazy plan took, I’d just have to manage.

Jen had left the car keys under the wheel arch—it wasn’t like we had to worry about anyone trying to steal it. We climbed in and I got the engine started on the third try.

Radimir squeezed my hand. “Alright. Let’s go and find Konstantin.”

A little over an hour later, we were cruising at 30,000 feet, heading east towards New York. With the setting sun behind us, the clouds glowed red and amber and everyone was snapping pictures through the windows. But I barely glanced up: I was on my phone, reading every scrap of information I could find on Konstantin, determined to know everything I could about him. Two things were obvious: firstly, the man was freakin’ gorgeous. He had the face of a king, like he should be sculpted in bronze in some art gallery somewhere, with elegant cheekbones and a strong jaw, and eyes that were just barely blue, as if he’dallowedthe color to creep in. My heart belonged to Radimir but if I’d been anyone else…

Secondly, he wasn’t shy. He was all over the press and social media, shaking hands with politicians, opening children’shospitals and sipping champagne at society parties. A pretty brunette was always by his side, his arm around her waist as if they were inseparable. “His girlfriend?” I whispered to Radimir.

Radimir nodded and then, despite all the stress, the corners of his mouth tweaked into a half smile. He leaned closer, brushed my hair back from my ear and whispered. “I heard a story. A good one. I don’t know if it’s true.”

I did my best pleading face. It worked maybetoowell because his gray eyes flared and melted, and he grabbed my hand as if he was about to march me off to the bathroom. Then he managed to get himself under control and he whispered, “I heard Konstantin had a girlfriend. A woman as evil as he was. When the two were apart for a few months, the FBI caught her and gave one of their female agents plastic surgery to make her look just like the girlfriend. The agent learned to walk like her, talk like her,everything.Then they sent this agent back to Konstantin...and he believed she was his girlfriend and welcomed her in. Except instead of spying on him like she was supposed to…”—he paused for effect—“she fell in love with him. And he fell in love with her.”

I sat there staring. “Is thattrue?”

Radimir shrugged. “It’s Konstantin. Who knows what’s true?”

My mind was spinning. “Do you think you’d know ifIwas an imposter?”

Radimir leaned close again. “Bronwyn,” he whispered, his rough-smooth accent caressing my brain, “I know the feel of every…single…inchof you.” His lips almost brushed my ear. “Inside and out.” I flushed down to my roots. “And besides, no imposter would hum like you do, when you make your sandwiches.”

I stared at him. “I don’thum!”

“Yes, you do. When you’re buttering the bread. Always the same tune.” He smiled. “I call it your sandwich song.”

All those weeks in the penthouse, he was watching, listening...

I threw myself at him and kissed him hard, and he wrapped me up in his arms and kissed me back even harder. For a moment, I forgot everything else.

But then the tannoy bonged and we were told we were starting our descent into New York. We reluctantly unwound and exchanged worried looks.This is it.Either my crazy plan would work...or the whole Aristov empire was about to fall.

A few hours later, Radimir pulled our rental car over to the curb and turned off the engine. “That’s it,” he told me, nodding at a house across the street. “Konstantin’s in there.”

We were on a quiet residential street full of beautiful old townhouses that probably cost ten million each. Something was going on at the house Radimir had pointed at: two couples were climbing the stairs and, as I watched, a limo dropped off another three people. “A party?”

Radimir looked strangely furtive. “Not...exactly.”

I frowned, confused.

He sighed. “It’s a sex club.”

“What?!”

“A very exclusive sex club, for the rich.”

I stared at him. Now I knew why he’d told me to buy lingerie. Why he’d told me to change into it, when we checked into our hotel. I was wearing it right now, under a swishy, satiny black cocktail dress I’d got from Rachel.Oh God, am I going tohave to strip off?“You couldn’t have mentioned this before?!” I squeaked.

“I didn’t want to make you nervous.”

I stared at him. Half of me was furious, the other half was too busy being terrified.

“I’m sorry,Krasavitsa,” he said softly. “But it’s the only place he’s not surrounded by bodyguards.”

I sat there staring at the house. My leg had started jiggling with nerves. It wasn’t just that I’d have to take my clothes off in front of a bunch of strangers, it was not knowing what to expect. I’d never even thought about going to a sex club. Sex in the hot tub, sort-of-kind-of-maybe in public, was daring enough for me. I felt like the high school geek, accidentally invited to the cool kids’ party full of drugs and booze. “Fuck,” I muttered.

I took three quick breaths...and then I got out of the car.

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