she wouldn’t cry. Hoping it would go away and she could just talk normally.
“Why would this Shanty insist on only meeting with you, Flambé?” Etienne persisted suspiciously. “That makes no sense when she’d never met you. I don’t like the sound of that.”
“You sound like Sevastyan,” Flambé accused. “She’s scared and alone. I have a certain reputation. My name is fairly well known in that region, you have to admit that. Unfortunately, I had to send word that it was impossible for me to make it. If she wanted to be rescued with her children, she needed to allow my team to extract her. I had to call in a lot of favors for this one.”
Etienne and Rory exchanged a look over her head and then looked to Blaise. “What does your man think?” Rory asked.
“He’s been in security a long time,” Blaise pointed out. “He’s got to have gut reactions.”
She scowled at the three of them since they seemed to be in agreement. “Since when do you care what Sevastyan Amurov thinks? This is my business, what I do. He’s got his hands full dealing with his cousin. Believe me, Mitya Amurov is difficult to say the least.”
She was very uncomfortable in Mitya’s presence. She had the feeling Mitya didn’t like her very much—not that she liked him. Sevastyan preferred her to work there when she was drawing up her designs. She was very aware that it was for two reasons. He didn’t want her out of his sight because he worried Franco might try to have her kidnapped. That was probably the number one reason. Or it was just because he really liked sex. He wanted sex several times a day. She didn’t mind that reason at all or she would have objected strenuously. Now, with his latest cheating development, she didn’t quite know what she was going to do. She couldn’t leave until Shanty was safe. Flambé had to personally interview her and make certain she was set before Flambé could disappear.
Flambé did like Ania and would regret not really getting to know her. She’d never really had the chance to form any friendships, and Ania was the same. Working at the Amurov estate had allowed Flambé to see Ania often and she was beginning to think of her as a genuine friend. Ania popped in with tea or she would call her on the intercom, asking her to come out to the garage where she was working. Ania was designing a car, working on an engine and building it herself. They would sit together, Ania talking excitedly about some new breakthrough while Flambé listened, happy for her.
Flambé was grateful Ania didn’t ask her questions about Sevastyan. She didn’t know how she felt about him and their relationship. It was complicated. Sevastyan was in charge inside the bedroom or outside of it, no matter what he had said. He was the one in charge and that was very clear. She was used to being her own boss, used to a tremendous amount of alone time. Now she had very little, and truthfully, she found that difficult. She had thought to consult Ania, who seemed happy with Mitya, but now it wouldn’t matter.
“Is Mitya Amurov more difficult than Sevastyan?” Rory asked, his eyebrows going up.
“I never said Sevastyan was difficult,” Flambé denied. “I said this is my business and he works for Mitya. Don’t try to put words in my mouth.”
Etienne gave an undignified snort. “Sevastyan Amurov has a reputation, honey. Even you can’t pretend he doesn’t. I can’t imagine that if he thought Little Miss Strawberry and her children were some kind of setup to harm you he wouldn’t be cutting them off and putting them in some interrogation room none of us know about.”
A chill went down her spine because she had a feeling that might be just a little too close to the truth. “Fortunately, she isn’t a plant and there wouldn’t be a reason for her to set me up. He has no interrogation room. I know because I’ve thoroughly searched the house for hidden passageways, and in any case, she isn’t his business.”
She had searched the house for hidden passageways. There were many. She hadn’t found an interrogation room but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. That was one of the things about Sevastyan that worried her. He could be very cold. She had seen him that way at the Amurov estate more than once. She’d seen him that way at the club.