Dangerous Surrender(46)

“I didn’t steal anyone’s money. And how did you know where I was today?” Because she and Roman had been incredibly careful coming here.

He paused for a long moment, watching her, though all she could see was her own reflection in the sunglasses. Which was pretty unnerving, and was probably why he wore the damn things. That and the way he was so still was freaking her the hell out.

“I saw your friend scouting Lynch’s boat. Then I spotted you messing with your hair when he got into your SUV. I wasn’t even certain it was you because of the wig, but you have a beautiful face. Hard to forget. This,” he glanced around them, “was just an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. Now tell me what we’re going to do about Lynch’s money—my money.”

A surge of adrenaline pumped through her at the confirmation that she’d been right in tracking down Neal’s boat. That meant he could be nearby, close enough to bring down even. Was he on the boat? Maybe Roman had already called the cops. She hoped so. Unfortunately she was pretty sure this guy was a hit man of sorts. If he collected money for someone maybe he was more of an enforcer. Which was terrifying.

She cleared her throat, trying to tamp down her nerves. “Neal Lynch stole from the company I work for. That money has been returned to Powers Group.” She decided not to confirm that yes, she was the one who’d liberated the funds from that thieving monster. “So whatever he owes you is on him. If he owes you so much, why not just take his boat?”

The Russian stilled, his head cocking ever so slightly to the side. “I have checked. The boat is not his property.”

She shook her head. “The boat belongs to one of his fake corporations. It’s his and it’s worth over five hundred thousand.” And as far as she’d been able to find out, he hadn’t bought it with Powers Group money.

“My boss only takes clean products.”

She frowned, not understanding. “The boat is clean. I mean, it’s under a corporation’s name, but he could transfer it to you. Hell, I could transfer it to you or whoever you work for with a clean bill of sale. Title and everything. The owner would be responsible for future docking fees wherever they keep it and yearly tax fees, but…it’s clean.”

Another long pause. “Right now Lynch is being protected. It is in my interests that he is not arrested. Yet. If you transfer his property to me, he is fair game. If not…things could get messy. Starting with that friend of yours.”

Taylor’s hands balled into fists, her jaw tightening. Threatening the man she cared about, especially after she’d just lost someone, wasn’t in this guy’s best interests. All her instincts told her to lash out, but she reined in the stupid part of her brain and took a deep breath. “Just so we’re clear. If I transfer ownership of the boat, Neal is no longer protected? And you will leave me and my friends alone?”

“Correct.”

“Fine.” She had no idea who this man was, though she could guess considering some of the tattoos on his fingers. She’d done enough reading that she recognized some of them. And she knew there was a Russian mob presence here and in surrounding areas. Combined with his accent and the mention of his boss—she didn’t even want to know the name of the man he was working for.

The man reached into his jacket pocket and for one moment she tensed, thinking he was going for the gun he’d holstered earlier. Instead he pulled out her cell phone, then battery. He handed both pieces to her. “I’ll call this phone with details soon.”

Nodding, and trying not to show how much she was trembling, she stood and slipped the battery back into her phone. Turning it on, she clasped it close to her chest, her fingers wrapping around it like a lifeline. It didn’t hide the subtle tremor racking her body. “You better freaking call.” Not come after her with a gun. Though she didn’t say it out loud it was pretty clear she was implying it.

He simply nodded and she took a few steps away from him, back in the direction of where he’d taken her from. He didn’t move from his spot.

Heart racing and sweat dotting her upper lip and forehead, she turned away from him and started walking, her legs shaking. Swiping her code into her phone, she tapped on the camera icon. Then she turned around again, still moving away from him. The man was standing, his body turned toward hers, but he wasn’t making any threatening gestures.

She was careful about it, but she took his picture as she held her cell phone against her chest, knowing she needed this to figure out who he was. His jaw tensed, as if he knew what she’d done.