Time Stood Still (Volkov Bratva #3.5)(18)

He held onto his frown, but his eyes were smiling. “No more TV.”

Laughing, she followed him over to the help desk, acutely aware of the attention they were drawing. She doubted it was because of Mishca’s status, and more likely because of how big he was compared to the smaller Italian women.

While Mishca might have been frustrated, he tempered his agitation, speaking calmly and quietly to the man seated behind the desk. From they way he hesitated over certain word, it was clear he wasn’t as familiar with Italian as he was with French and Russian. Reaching into her carryon, she hunted for the pocket-edition Italian-English dictionary she’d bought from their last stop. She had already practiced greetings and how to introduce herself while she was on the plane, but knew she would need a little help as she figured she wouldn’t be getting her luggage anytime soon.

As best as she could, Lauren asked if there were any local shops around, places where she could buy a few things to replace some of what had been lost. The women were more than happy to assist her with her search, speaking in rapid Italian, most of it lost on her. Thanking them, she headed back to Mishca, telling him of what she had learned.

Since they wouldn’t be getting much help from the attendant standing behind the desk, Mishca finished his report, and they left. While Lauren waited for Mishca to pick up their new car, Lauren looked around the little shops, picking up little souvenirs that she could bring back to the States. When Mishca pulled around the corner, she raised her hand to let him know where she was standing.

Mishca put on a pair of opaque sunglasses, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun, opening the passenger door for her, gesturing with a wave of his arm for her to climb in. One thing she definitely liked about this car was that the top was down, and as they pulled off on the winding streets towards Sardinia, the wind whipped her hair back and she could do no more than smile.

The drive through Cagliari, where they had actually landed, towards Nuoro where Lauren asked if they could stop so she could get pictures of the town. Most of the houses, and buildings in general, were made of limestone and looked stunning in the low light of the sunset. While she happily snapped pictures of practically everything in sight, Mishca just smiled, glad that she was enjoying herself.

The farther they went, and the closer they got to their destination, the more the scent of the sea permeated the air, and with it came her first view of the water.

“Why here?” Lauren asked as she got a better view of the sheer beauty of the town they were now in. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but I’d never even heard of this place before you mentioned it.”

“A friend suggested it. I have very few business contacts here so we’ll undisturbed during our time here.”

They drove in silence the rest of the way to where they would be staying, but once they arrived, she gasped.

One day, and she had no idea when that day would come, Lauren would stop underestimating what Mishca would do for her. If she weren’t so tired from the flight, she was sure her mouth would be hanging open. Clearly, even short notice, Mishca was able to pull off something a person only dreamed about.

They weren’t staying in a hotel close to the harbor—as she’d thought they would—but rather a holiday villa on top of a promontory, giving clear views of the rocky shore and water below. Only cooler, was the peak of the villa, a shining light like a beacon pointing out towards the sea.

Standing in front of the residence was a man that looked to be in his early sixties, wearing a pair of white linen pants and brown sandals, his shirt a similar material. His snowy white hair fell flat around his head, and once he saw their car pull around, he straightened further, tucking his hand in his pocket.

Lauren’s eyes shot to Mishca, but since he didn’t seem surprised to see the man standing there, she dismissed her worries…at least until they were right before him and he was passing Mishca an envelope.

After speaking in quick, fluent Italian with Mishca, he smiled politely at Lauren and went on his way.

“What did he say?”

A muscle ticked in Mishca’s jaw before he said, “Welcome to Italy.”

“And…”

He hesitated, clearly not wanting to answer, but did anyway. “Roman sends his regards.”

Lauren stiffened, not taking another step forward. “Was this a favor then? A gift for a deal you agreed to?”

“Not in so many words.”

“You know what?” Lauren said holding her hands up as she plucked the keys from his hand, heading towards the house. “I don’t think I want to know. Hopefully he didn’t bug the house because it would be weird knowing your cousin is listening to us have sex.”

He smiled though she wasn’t trying to be funny. “Noted.”





CHAPTER SIX





Between jet lag and their already erratic sleep schedule, they didn’t go back out again until that night. As they started off down the cobblestoned streets, Lauren was taken by the sky, the whole of it painted in brilliant colors, ranging from pinks to purples, indigos and yellows, with lines of white throughout. It didn’t look real.

There were a number of restaurants facing the water, and while there were a good number of the outdoor tables filled, Lauren pointed to one on the corner. Instead of sitting inside—though the interior was just as beautiful—they opted for a table outside to enjoy the view.