Page 133 of Lethal Legacy

“This better be an emergency,” I snarl into the phone, still staring at Lucia. She’s watching me through slitted eyes, soaping her body in a way that’s doing nothing to make my cock go down.

“Well!” Inger’s shrill indignation manages to deflate my hard-on faster than an ice bath. I walk into the bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind me, and pull on some clothes.

“What is it, Inger?” I do my best to keep my voice level.

“It would have been nice to be informed thatmy childrenwere taking part in a public performance. I don’t recall giving my consent for—”

“You were informed.” I cut her off mid-rant. “Every decision I make about the children is emailed to you directly.”

“Iwork,Roman. I can’t be expected to open every email your assistant sends.” Her whining tone sets my teeth on edge. “It was only because darling Nicky texted me photos that I—”

“Darling Nicky?”I laugh scornfully. “Darling Nicky was at the parade for a total of about five minutes, and believe me, the kids were a lot happier when he left.”

“Don’t be silly. They love him. They spent all that time with him last summer on theGuapa, Yuri’s yacht.” Her tone is faintly accusatory, which really makes me gnash my teeth.

Yuri’s fucking yacht was one of the red flags that brought the authorities down on us in the first place. The fact that it took me almost six years to convince him theGuapawas an extremely dangerous, not to mention fucking expensive, indulgence that we do not need still pisses me off. Maybe it’s the street kid in me, but toys for the sake of appearances have never appealed to me. I can’t see the point in maintaining a floating goddamn palace just so that everyone knows I’m as rich asForbesalready reports me as being.

The fact that Nicky flew over to the States, without bothering to inform me, and took Inger and the kids for a month-long jaunt around the Caribbean, on a yacht I was still paying for, pissed me off beyond recognition. It still does.

In the end I brought the damned thing back to Spain and lived on it until the penthouse renovations were finished. Partly to piss Nicky off, but mainly because I figured I might as well make use of it. I finally managed to convince Yuri to sell theGuapasix months ago, which pissed Nicky off even more, since I’m pretty sure he’d been planning to use it as party central the minute I vacated it.

I hear the shower stop running. I need to wrap this up. “What do you want, Inger?”

“Well.” Her voice takes on a sulky edge. “I told you I’d be coming back to Spain for a visit soon. For the Russian Cultural Society Benefit.”

“Sure,” I say blankly. I vaguely remember her saying something about it.

“Well, it’s on in two months. I know how hopeless you are with these things, so I’m going to contact your assistant to put it on your calendar. I want you to escort me, and I want Ofelia to come, too. It’s about time she started to attend charitable functions. And I’ve been a patron of the RCS since before she was born. It’s part of her heritage, Romie.”

I roll my eyes. Inger cares as much about charitable causes as she does about cockroaches. She just likes having her photograph taken and playing the part of Mikhail’s grieving widow, despite the fact that they’d been divorced for some time before his death. Taking Ofelia just adds to the photo opportunity.

“Sure,” I say again. I can manage one benefit, if it means keeping the peace. “Let my secretary know the dates.”

“Ofelia will need a gown. Get that nanny to take her shopping. Although, going by her lion mask in Nicky’s photos, she’s got about as much fashion sense as I’d expect from a South American illegal.”

The bathroom door opens, and Lucia’s magnificent naked body emerges, flushed from the shower. I grin darkly. “That’s true enough. Lucia’s not really one for clothes.”

Lucia throws her towel at me and I duck, grinning.

“Well, then find someone who is. Anyway, Romie, I have to rush. Send kisses to the children.”

“Sure.” I hang up and throw the phone onto the bed, then put my arms around Lucia and start kissing her neck.

“Roman!” She pushes me away half-heartedly. “The children will be back any minute. We can’t.”

“We can.” I pull her against my hardening cock.

“Who was that you were telling about me wearing no clothes? Oh,” she gasps, as I slip a finger inside her.

“That,” I say, marveling at how wet she is, “was the children’s god-awful mother, Inger. She thinks that your lion mask means you don’t know one end of a clothing store from another. I told her that clothes aren’t really your specialty. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

“Roman!” Her indignation only makes me laugh more. “You can’t joke about things like...ah,” she squeals, as I find her still-swollen clit.“No.” She struggles feebly, although she’s half laughing. “What did Inger want?”

“Some stupid charity thing she wants to take Ofelia to.” I tear my shorts off with one hand, keeping my other inside Lucia. “Don’t worry, it’s months away. She probably won’t turn up anyway.”

Then I turn my attention to her mouth, swallowing any further protests in favor of far more important things.

When the phone next rings, the children are laughing in the kitchen with Lucia and I’m attempting to get some work done in between dips in the pool.

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