Page 105 of Thorns of Lust
KONSTANTIN
Asardonic breath pulled in my chest as I read her message.
Returning the butt plug.
Shove it up your ass.
P.S. I disinfected it so it’s all ready for you.
Not only did she send me a sassy message but she also played me. She was enroute to Russia, landing in Moscow in about three hours. She even managed to shake all of her guards. I didn’t know whether to be proud of the angel or angry with her. She played me to get information on her brother.
Lovely.
Pussy whipped might be the right term here.
Picking up the phone, I dialed Vasili.
“Konstantin,” he grumbled. “Not a good time.”
“Nikolaev,” I greeted back. “I imagine there’s panic in your household because you can’t find your sister and your brother kidnapped his bride.”
His silence was all the answer I needed. I didn’t break it, letting him weigh his options. There were none of course. I had a tracker on Tatiana; he didn’t.
“What do you know?” he asked and even over the line I could hear he was pissed off.
“Tatiana is in Moscow,” I told him. If I was to claim her as my wife, I’d need her brothers on my side and working with me, not against me.
“What the fuck is she doing in Moscow?” he hissed.
“Maybe she’s on the way to your family home there.”
“She doesn’t consider Russia home,” he said pensively. “She avoids visiting there whenever she can.” It shouldn’t surprise me, yet somehow it did. “So why would she go to Russia willingly?”
That was a good question. Unless she had come up with a clue that Adrian left her and it led her to Russia.
“That’s for you to figure out,” I told him. “Your brother Sasha is in Russia too. He needed my plane, and it took him close to your ancestral home. I’d imagine he took his kidnapped bride there.”
I ended the call and sent my pilot coordinates. And all the while the first time I touched Tatiana played in my mind. That gazebo at the edge of the property that overlooked Patapsco River. It was the week I flew into D.C. for Isla’s concert. She went to a party with her friends while I handled some business.
I’d spotted her the moment she strode into the party with twin college boys on each of her arms. Those two boys were wrapped around her little finger. Nico Morrelli and I had just finished our meeting, and I watched her crash the party with two kids. Because that was what they were - boys.
I watched as a man, assumingly her bodyguard, pulled them away from her and led them out of the house. The pale-haired blonde angel just watched after them, annoyance on her face and her heels tapping impatiently against the marble foyer.
“Jerk,” I saw her mouth, glaring after them.
She looked like a tempting woman that needed to be fucked thoroughly in that strapless, sparkling black mini dress, displaying her long legs. And that fucking blonde mane. Jesus, what I’d give to wrap it around my wrist and grip it as I fucked her.
Then something flashed in her eyes and she reached for the nearby eighteenth century desk. Shamelessly, she opened one drawer after another, searching for something.
“Aha.” She victoriously pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, then wrote a note.
She reached out to a nearby server and handed him the paper, then disappeared into the back gardens that led out to the river.
To my surprise, the server came over to me and handed me the paper. When I raised my eyebrow in surprise, he just murmured, “She said to give it to you by the door.”
I opened the note. There weren’t many things that surprised me anymore. But Tatiana Nikolaev certainly managed to surprise me.
I re-read the note again.
