King's Ransom (Ruthless Doms 3) - Page 14

To my chagrin, she meets my eyes when I look to her and smiles at me. I start when I see the harsh scar that runs along one cheek, but quickly look away from her.

Stefan pumps the man’s hand and leans in to kiss the woman’s cheek. He doesn’t flinch at the scar but kisses her right there. I watch in rapt fascination as she grins at him, takes both of his arms, and kisses his cheek.

“Welcome,” he says with a smile. Then, in a lower voice, “It seems just yesterday I officiated at your wedding. And now I hear you have a brood of mini Russians?”

The woman laughs, filling the room with the beautiful sound, and they speak easily for a few moments.

“I’m sorry you have to begin your visit here with a meeting,” he says. “If you’d like to leave us, Marissa might be awake and looking for company. I know it’s early. Or we can see to getting you to your room while I borrow your husband for a little while.”

“If you wouldn’t mind, Stefan, I’d love to spend a little time with the other woman you have here? This is Taara, no? I’ve heard so many good things of her from Marissa and would love to get to know her a little better.”

From Marissa? Marissa, Nicolai’s wife, the woman he avenged with the murder committed this morning. She’s said good things about me?

Stefan’s smile fades, and his voice hardens. “She’s here for questioning, Caroline.”

I watch Caroline’s brows draw together. “Oh,” she says sadly. “Does your brotherhood typically question women in a room full of men?” She tips her head to the side, and I’m struck with how sharp she is. This woman misses nothing. Though she speaks pleasantly, in a soft, respectful voice, she knows how to play her cards well, appealing to his innate sense of justice and traditional values. She speaks to him as if she’s asked for a cup of tea, and not a chance to rescue me from my predicament.

Why me?

Stefan smiles, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “We do, Caroline. If necessary.”

Her voice firms just a touch. “And is it necessary, Stefan?”

“Caroline,” her husband warns, and he reaches for her hand, but Stefan holds up a hand to stop him.

“As your wife, she’s privy to much, Tomas,” Stefan says. “And I have no qualms about being honest.” Stefan strokes his chin. “Perhaps Taara doesn’t need to be here for this particular meeting, but if she goes with you, she may have no freedom. She’s under my watch.”

“You have my word. She’s cuffed, no?”

Stefan nods.

“Good. Then let the two of us have some time together while you men do your work, and I promise that I won’t let her get away.” She flashes him a captivating grin.

But either Stefan doesn’t trust her, or he doesn’t trust me, because he sends three of his youngest recruits to join us in the small study adjacent to the meeting room.

I’m curious. What is it that she wishes to ask me? I’m grateful for the momentary reprieve, though. I hated the eyes of everyone in that room on me. Caroline holds me firmly by the arm and marches me ahead of her, and it takes me by surprise. She leads me into the room as if I’m her child caught in the act of disobedience, and I realize that she’s not someone to be trifled with.

Still, there’s kindness in her gaze.

We reach the small room and she gestures for me to sit. I do so clumsily. “Did you enjoy your flight?” I ask, not knowing what else to do or say.

“I did, thank you,” she says. “Tomas insists on business class these days, and I have to admit, I don’t mind it.” She winks at me.

“I wouldn’t either,” I say with a smile, but I’m uneasy. I don’t know what she wants or what will happen to me. We sit, and it’s awkward because I’m still wearing cuffs. This would almost seem normal otherwise.

Thankfully, she doesn’t waste any time.

“You’re probably wondering why I brought you in here, Taara. Why I said I had something to ask you about?”

I nod in silence, and she smiles at me. Reaching to my knee, she squeezes. “I saw you in that room full of men, and I know how these men operate. I knew that they wouldn’t hesitate to interrogate you with their barbaric methods. But I’m a good judge of character,” she says. “And I wanted to prove to myself that my instinct is correct.”

I swallow hard. “And what instinct is that?” I ask, my voice choked. To my horror, my eyes fill with tears. I’m so distraught, the slightest show of kindness undoes me. Does she believe me innocent? Does she even know what I’m accused of?

She holds my gaze, unblinking. “That you mean the brotherhood no harm.”

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