Page 44 of Dangerous Secrets

Alexei stepped between them, hands up in a time-out gesture. “Hey guys, stop locking antlers. The smell of testosterone is overriding the farts. Let’s just settle down?—”

A faint buzzsounded from Alexeiei’s headset and he dived for the console, switching on the sound from the speakers. It was the phone, ringing. Worontzoff picked up on the second ring.

“Hello.” His voice was deep and calm.

“Hello Vassily. How are you?” Charity. Charity was calling the motherfucker. Nick froze, every cell in his body dedicated to listening to the call.

“I am fine, my dear. Did you have an enjoyable weekend?”

“Yes.” Nick could almost feel her blush over the airwaves. “Yes, I did, actually. Um . . . a very nice weekend. Vassily, I was wondering . . .”

“Yes, my dear?”

“You know your musical soirèe on Thursday?”

“Ah, the soirée. Samuel Cha on the cello. It will be exquisite. We arranged the playlist just the other day. And I asked him to include Elgar’s Cello Concerto in E minor, because I know it’s your favourite.”

“Oh, Vassily—” Charity’s voice turned warm and affectionate. Nick clenched his fists. It was the tone she used when she whispered in his ear while he was in her. “You remembered! I do so love that concerto, thank you. I’m going to love hearing Mr. Cha play it.”

“My pleasure, my dear. It will be very enjoyable listening to it with you.”

“Yes, indeed. Speaking of which, um, Vassily . . .”

“Yes, my dear?”

Listening hard, Nick could detect an oily undertone, as if Worontzoff knew what was coming. Like a villain in a movie inviting the heroine into his den.Yesssss, my dear?

“Um, I know that you don’t like to invite more than 30 people to your soirées, Vassily?—“

“Quite right. Too many people ruins the acoustics of the room. Chamber music was composed exactly for that—for chambers. Most chamber music was written in the 17thand 18thcenturies for a court. Never for general consumption. With a royal family and perhaps some courtiers in attendance, no more.”

“Well, I’m certainly not royalty. But what I wanted to ask you was, may I bring a friend along? He’s a busy man and I don’t even know if he’d be free, but if he is, could I invite him? I wanted to ask you first before broaching it to him.”

“A friend? You want to bring a friend? To my soirée?”

Could Charity hear the dead, frozen tone in Worontzoff’s voice? Nick could. He heard the instant morph from avuncular intellectual to dangerous mobster. Every hair on Nick’s bodystood on end and his pulse raced. This was one of the most dangerous men on the planet and Charity had just angered him.

Shit, tell him to forget about it. Say it was just a silly thought. Come on, Charity, let it go. I’ll find another way to get into that damned house. Just stay out of this guy’s way and out of the way of his anger.

He bit his back teeth, hard. Looked at professionally, this was a stroke of good luck, in a job that had all too few of them. This is what he’d been angling for all along. What he’d engineered the meet with Charity for. Ostensibly, what he’d been fucking her for.

It was the job. Just the job. Getting into Scumbag Central.

Di Stefano high-fived Alexei, who was grinning.Mission accomplished.An elaborate ploy had paid off and a federal agent was just about to be introduced into the home of a suspected criminal.

“Vassily?” Charity’s soft voice came through the speakers. Hearing her voice made him ache, as if he’d taken a punch to the chest. Thank God she’d sensed something, though she misunderstood the reason. “Will this be a problem? Do you have too many guests coming? Because I could renounce my invitation, if you can’t fit everyone in.”

“No, no, my dear. Of course that won’t be necessary. I wouldn’t dream of not having you. Your enjoyment makes my evening. Your friend is very welcome, if he can make it. I trust he enjoys classical music?”

A startled silence. Nick realized that Charity had no idea whether he liked music or whether he was tone deaf. It simply hadn’t come up. Actually not much beyond his dick had come up over the weekend.

“Y-yes. Yes of course he does.”

She was such a lousy liar.

“Well, then, my dear,” Vassily said smoothly, “of course he can come. Any musical friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

Not in this lifetime, scumbag.

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