The older man laughed at her and she swallowed hard, hoping she hadn’t overplayed her hand. When he reached out and grabbed her by her hair she screamed and drew back her arm. Maks yelled out for her to stop, but before she could second guess herself she caught the man under his chin with an upper cut that hurt the fuck out of her hand, but sent the bigger man stumbling back. She hissed and shook her fist out, but looked over at the man with his gun to Gia’s head, trying to figure out how to distract him long enough for Maks to take him out.
“Let go of her!”
The man said something to Maks in Russian. He responded with obvious anger and the two men argued for a solid minute before she took a step between them, ready to settle this shit. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten about the older man and a piece of cloth with some kind of stinky fumes on it was placed over her face, she realized her little gamble to stay here as long as possible had backfired. She struggled, and the last thing she remembered was someone hitting her on the side of her head, hard.
Chapter Twenty Six
Rya batted away at something annoying hovering around her nose. She managed to finally shove it away and opened her eyes, but the world was blurry. Taking another deep breath, she forced her scattered thoughts to come together and tried to remember where she was and why her face hurt. This time she was able to focus and found a grim faced man in his late thirties dressed in a tuxedo bent over her. He had deep hazel green eyes and dark red hair with a flushed complexion. Tattoos showed all over his hands and she sucked in a quick breath. She was in so much trouble.
The man gave her an anxious look. “Are you okay?”
His English had a heavy Irish accent to it instead of Russian and she stared at him in surprise. “Yes, who are you?”
“First let me apologize for the lengths we had to go to in order to arrange this meeting, but it is very important and Dimitri is stubborn. My name is Peter and I promise you, we mean you no harm.”
She glanced around surprised to find herself in a luxurious fairy tale princess bedroom that looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. A musty smell hung in the air, the scent of a room that was cleaned, but not lived in. After sitting up, she looked around further and gaped at the beauty surrounding her. Everywhere she looked there was exquisite furniture, elegant watercolor paintings, and lovely blown glass art. Without a doubt this room was meant for a woman. Not only was it done in shades of pink, but it was very comfortable—in the way only a woman would enjoy.
Mystified as to where the hell she was, she rubbed her head where she’d been hit. “Where am I?”
“Has Dimitri spoken about his father, Jorg?”
At the mention of Dimitri’s dad her stomach clenched. “Maybe.”
“You’re a bad liar,” he said with a chuckle.
“Look, just tell me why I’m here. Dimitri is going to lose his damn mind and I don’t want him getting hurt.”
“I happen to agree with you. It is refreshing not to deal with hysterics. You’re here because Dimitri’s father wishes to meet you. He’s been trying to see you since you arrived in Russia, but Dimitri has forbidden it.”
“And this surprises you how?”
“His father is dying.”
“And?”
He grinned at her. “You are a ruthless little thing aren’t you? No wonder Dimitri loves you so much.”
“Um…thanks?”
“Please, come meet Jorg, Dimitri’s father. It is his most desperate wish that his sons find happiness before he dies. Dimitri has been quite…adamant about not seeing his father, but it is vital that he comes here. I’m afraid that we have to use you as bait in order to make that happen.”
“Awesome.” She carefully slid off the other side of the bed and groaned as her head ached. “Can I get some Tylenol or something for my head? He really clocked me good.”
Peter stood and came quickly to her side. She flinched when he reached for her, but he made a soothing, almost humming noise. “Easy now. I just want to make sure you don’t need a doctor.”
“And if I did, you’d take me to one?”
Peter grinned. “I might at that. Look, the sooner you talk to the old man the sooner you’ll be returned to Dimitri, unharmed. Trust me when I say I’m not among Jorg’s greatest fans, but you don’t want him for an enemy. Keep that in mind.”
After being led to an old fashioned kitchen that was well cared for, she sipped at her cup of tea as she took what she hoped was aspirin. While she had no idea what kind of building she was in, it felt like a castle. Everything was lush, opulent, and over-the-top expensive, yet tasteful with a sense of great age. She certainly felt out of place in her modest navy suede skirt and matching jacket with a turquoise blue silk blouse beneath. At least she wore comfortable black leather boots. This morning she’d thought she looked put together in this outfit, now she wished she’d worn a pair of jeans or maybe a suit of armor.