Extreme Danger (McClouds & Friends #5)(24)

She plucked the quivering knife out of the board, and delicately reassembled her piles of herbs, before sprinkling them into the mix.

“I think all this macho bullshit is just for the camera,” she whispered. “I really think it is. You’re as scared as I am.”

“Fuck and double f*ck. On top of it all, you’re delusional. For the love of Christ, Becca. Shut up and cook.”



Clink, clink. The utensils against the china made a delicate, musical sound. Becca bent over Zhoglo’s plate to lay another slice of ham on it, at such an angle so that her tits practically fell out of her blouse. Her face was pale, but composed. Eyes demurely lowered.

Mouth closed, for once. Zhoglo’s poisonous vibe shut even her up.

She had class, he had to admit. Iron self-control, too, except when Nick needled her. Most girls he knew would be curled up in the fetal position sucking their thumbs under this kind of performance pressure.

The meal had gone well, so far. The fragrant, steaming food had been completely demolished. The platters were bare.

Becca leaned over again with the crystal pitcher of mixed fruit and fizzy wine, filling champagne flutes with a geisha’s detached but sensual grace. Four sets of male eyes fastened onto her body. Five, if he counted his own. His jaw hurt from clenching so hard.

She’d make a good undercover agent, he thought. Who would guess what lay beneath that sex bunny exterior? Watching the woman put that meal together had been like watching an Olympic sporting event. Every gesture choreographed for maximum efficiency.

So far, so good. The cook ruse was holding. The meal had been consumed. They had made another shuffling step forward on the tightrope over the pit of man-eating lions. If only she weren’t so f*cking pretty, she might have a chance in hell of getting through this alive.

Zhoglo polished off the grilled ham, wiped his mouth, and turned his pale gaze upon Nick. “Does she understand this language?” he asked in Ukrainian.

“No,” Nick replied.

“I would like for her to satisfy some other appetites, after I digest, of course. The food was delicious. I was betrayed by greed.”

A fist grabbed Nick’s vital organs and squeezed. “That wasn’t part of our understanding when I engaged her services,” he said. “My first priority was to make sure the food would be good, Vor—”

“And your second priority was to have something pretty to f*ck while you waited on the lonesome, boring island, no? You simply do not want to share. You do not impress me, Solokov.”

Nick opted not to reply. There was nothing he could say.

“But after such a tasty meal, I can be reasonable,” Zhoglo went on. “If I am sufficiently entertained.”

Nick’s dread deepened, widened. “Entertained?”

Zhoglo’s eyes sparkled. “We have nothing to do this afternoon but stare at this oppressive greenery. So entertain me. With your little friend.” He jerked his chin at Becca. “I like spectator sports.”

Nick’s eyes flicked to Becca. She’d sensed the vibe, gone on alert. Her hands wound together, white-knuckled and pressed against her belly. Her mouth was tight, her eyes big. Silently beseeching him.

“Vor,” he said slowly. “This woman is not a professional prostitute. She is not prepared to perform in this way. She will not be able to function as your cook if I do as you propose.”

“No?” Zhoglo’s lips twisted into a sneer. “Then what good is she?”

“What’s on the menu for dinner, Becca?” Nick asked in English.

“An appetizer of spicy Calabrese sausage and an assortment of fine cheeses, to start. Vegetables, roasted and au gratin. Tuscan crostini, with paté, tapenade, roasted red peppers and porcini sott’olio,” she said, with reassuring promptness. “Pepper-rolled beef, accompanied by a Montepulciano red. Herbed baby red potatoes, glazed carrots. Fresh sliced exotic fruits with crème Chantilly, coffee, Grand Marnier Chocolate Torte, and an assortment of digestive liqueurs.”

Zhoglo blinked a few times. He let out a sigh, and gazed at his plump, steepled fingers. “Very well,” he said, sounding faintly petulant. “I will compromise, for the sake of a decent meal.”

Nick was about to sigh in relief, but the man kept talking.

“Take her to one of the bedrooms and f*ck her there,” Zhoglo went on. “We will watch on the monitor in the security room. Will that sufficiently insulate our little dove’s delicate female sensibilities? She will still be functional afterwards, no?”

Zhoglo’s eyes shone into his, bright and blank and impenetrable. He jerked his chin, a what-the-f*ck-are-you-waiting-for gesture.

“If you doubt your ability to perform, one of my men would be happy to screw her in your place,” he added softly. “They would be most enthusiastic at the prospect.” He paused. “All of them would be.”

“What’s up?” Becca asked. “Was something not right with the meal?”

“The meal was superb, my dear,” Zhoglo said in English. “I’m just waiting for the entertainment, that’s all.”

Becca looked from Nick to Zhoglo. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Zhoglo snickered. “By all means, Solokov. Enlighten her.”

Nick seized her by the arm, and towed her out of the room.