The King - S.R. Jones Page 0,67
his rumbling bass voice by now.
“Yeah?” Konstantin doesn’t look away from me.
“Got Damen on the phone. Looks like Popov is planning something very dumb, not to do with us, but good intel. Can’t go into details in front of the lady, but trust me, you want to talk to Damen.”
“Be there in two minutes.” Still, he doesn’t break eye contact with me.
Denis closes the door behind him, the sound so loud in the space between Konstantin and me.
“You’ve caused so much trouble, sunshine.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He smiles, and it’s almost sad. “I’m kind of not,” he says.
Slowly, achingly slowly, he drags his finger back up, right between the valley of my breasts, past my collarbone, and up my throat to my jawline, where he traces the bone.
He’s going to kiss me, I know he is, and I also know that if he does, and even if it’s only half as good as I’ve been imagining, I won’t be okay with it the next time he shuts down on me. He blows hot and cold, and I can’t deal with the cold as it is.
“You’re going to be a father,” I whisper.
And there it is. Those shutters. He blinks, and when he looks at me again it’s as if he’s awoken from a dream state and is back in the real world.
“Yes, I am,” he says, and he moves away, giving me his broad back as he walks to the edge of the pool.
When he’s gone, I climb out myself, legs like noodles. My God, he does a number on me. I’m not worldly enough to deal with a man like him. Liza is what he needs, someone hard like him. Not soft like marshmallow, which is the way I am deep inside.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Konstantin
I go straight to my study and call Damen back.
“This is getting to be a habit,” I say with a smile in my voice.
“You won’t believe this. This is a gift from the fucking gods. I swear you owe me so big that I listen in to shit.”
“What?”
“Popov is planning on moving against Allyov.”
“What?”
“Yeah, nothing to do with you or any of it. He’s planning on fucking Allyov over big time.”
“Why? Because of Andrius?”
Popov and Andrius have something of a vendetta, but it doesn’t make sense for Popov to move against Allyov to get to Andrius.
“Doubt it. This is about carving out more of a space for himself. He plans on taking Allyov out of the arms side of things.”
I think about this. It makes things so much easier. Allyov was the issue, the fly in the ointment, and now? Now, it should be easy to get him onboard with my plans.
“Doesn’t he know how dangerous that is?”
Damen sighs. “He’s not sane, though, is he? I don’t think he’s playing with the full deck. He also thinks he’s far smarter than he is. Right now he’s in discussions for a rival group, the Armenians, to simply muscle Allyov out of the picture and make it look as if Popov had nothing to do with it, initially. Then when they’ve done the deed, Popov will shrug, tell Allyov he must work with whoever is in charge, and switch his allegiance before getting rid of Allyov. It’s risky, but Popeye’s never been one to play it safe. No one in their right mind would shoot Andrius in the leg and leave him alive, after all. I found this out from someone within the Armenians. It’s fucking fate, man.”
There it is again, fate, messing with me. I shiver. I’m not a man who believes in woo, but this is getting ridiculous.
“This changes things again.” I rub my temple. I’m getting a headache. It’s all too fucking much. This. Cassie. Liza. Michael’s wedding. How much more can the universe throw at me at once.
“They aren’t planning on doing it for a while, if their communications are, in fact, accurate, and not a smokescreen, which … who knows. If it is correct, it gives you some breathing space. Why don’t you talk to Andrius? He’ll have a handle on how Allyov might react to this latest news, and he can warn Allyov to be extra careful.”
“Damen, there’s no one more paranoid than Allyov. He always surrounds himself with armed men, guards, and God knows what else. I don’t know how Popov thinks he’ll get to him.”
“Me either. We still need to let Andrius know, and Allyov via him. Popov is gonna make a move at some point or other. Feel free to discuss