Page 105 of Sire
The tension in Sire’s body, holding mine, is instant. I feel it, but this time I find a filter. I blurted the Russian thing on purpose, to get intel, but I’d never betray Sire’s secret about his father.
“It means,” Axel reclines in the velvet chair beside Nash, “the enemy of my enemy is my friend. We won’t let Sheremetev know we’re here, but we knowhe’shere. And now, we figure out the connection.”
I’ve figured it out.
So has Sire.
It’s his father and the notes.
I get the feeling I opened a can of worms, but we can’t talk about it until we’re alone.
“Did I do okay?” I wrap my arms around Sire’s neck.
He kisses my cheek. “You did great, Angel. Thanks for your help.”
Nash looks around. “Now that we have the intel we need, what do we do? We’re stuck here.”
“We wait until we dock in Key West tomorrow and fly back,” Axel grumbles.
Nash groans, “That’s twenty-four hours from now.”
“Oh, suck it up, Buttercups.” I kick my legs so Sire will put me down. He does while I boss them, “We’re on a sexysuperyacht, sailing toward warmer weather with six of the hottest people alive. We’re gonna have fun.”
“Fun?” It’s a foreign word to Axel.
“Yeah,” I chirp. “You know, it’s that word between your favorites,fuckandfury.Try it. You may like it, too.”
“True that.” Nash chuckles. “Furious fucks are fun.”
Axel mocks, “Says the man who’s taken a vow of chastity for Vale Monroe.”
Playfully, I kick Axel’s shiny black shoe. “Leave him alone. He’s in love with Vale. Now, come on.” I circle my finger. “Let’s put on our bathing suits and go up to the pool deck.”
“Sorry, princess.” Nash smiles, relieved. “I didn’t pack one.”
Axel brags, “Me neither. And you don’t wantmenaked. The Six aren’t ready for my nine inches.”
Whatever. They’re being big, bratty Bratva boys.
“It’s okay.” I aim for the door. “I knew y’all would do this: be sticks in the mafia mud. So, I packed Sire’s suit and two extras. I’ll go get ‘em.”
“Fuck!” Axel puffs, annoyed. “You had to go and marry asmartwife.”
“Shut up.” Sire laughs, following me to our stateroom. “Your future wives will be smart enough to murder you in your sleep.”
The moment we’re across the hall, alone in our room, I can’t hold it in. I whip around, hugging Sire. “Are you okay?”
“No.” He nuzzles his forehead to mine. “Valentin Sheremetev is my father’s rival. How he’s connected to all of this shit, I have no idea.”
“Your brothers don’t know your father’s found you, but you do. So, what’s the risk in contacting Sheremetev? Maybe he can help.”
BecauseIwant to help. Sire’s cursed with guilt over this. He won’t let us start a family until he fixes Axel’s.
“Men like Sheremetev don’t help; they hurt.” He’s tense and reeling with the news. “And it would put you in more danger. No, my father’s up to something and I’m going to find out what.”
“You never answered him about your blood type.”
“Because I’m not his bitch,” Sire seethes. “I don’t owe him answers or my blood. I only want his.”
