Tempted & Taken (Men of Haven #4)(92)
Before he could answer, the loft door opened.
Danny ambled in first and jerked his chin up at Knox.
Behind him was Sergei with Beckett practically a lead blanket on his back. To his credit, Sergei didn’t seem the least bit put off by the intimidation tactic. Just scanned the room in one cool sweep before his eyes locked on to Darya. “Moya zvyozdochka.”
Two words Knox didn’t understand for shit, but spoken directly to his woman with a low familiarity and warmth that made Knox grit his teeth.
Darya, on the other hand, beamed back at the guy. “Sergei.” She started forward and solely by Herculean will did Knox let her fingers slip from his.
He followed her, though. Yeah, the guy might have saved her and deserved a decent hello, but that didn’t mean Knox couldn’t make it clear as day whose arms she was headed back to once all the hi-how-are-yas were done.
Rolling up on her toes, she threw her arms around Sergei’s neck and hugged him tight, the gesture no different than the ones he’d spied her sharing with Beckett after a hard session of sparring. “It’s good to see you.”
Gaze sliding to Knox, Sergei carefully returned the hug, his big hands splayed firm, but high on her back and well away from her hips. Silver and black rings adorned three of his fingers and one thumb and black tattoos in a variety of symbols took up a good chunk of real estate on the backs of his hands and near his knuckles. A string of Russian none of them had a hope in hell of understanding slipped from his lips.
Darya understood it, though, and given the way she jerked out of Sergei’s arms and scowled, it wasn’t good.
Knox moved in, pulling Darya back into the circle of his arm. “Let’s try that again. In English.”
One side of Sergei’s mouth quirked in an almost smile. His accent was much heavier than Darya’s, but the words he strung together made it clear he had no problem with the language. “You have found worthy protectors, it seems,” he said to Darya. “I shared as much with Yefim. He is pleased.”
A mix of sadness and worry crept across Darya’s face. “He’s okay?”
“Quite well. Cantankerous as usual, but still fit and pulling too many strings.” Sergei smoothed his hand down the front of his jacket, taking note of each person’s placement in the room and the security footage marking every angle on the building. He zeroed in on Knox. “I’m sure Darya has already shared my name, but I will offer it myself.” He held out his hand. “I am Sergei Petrovyh. I consider her former employer and patron, Yefim Mishin, my father.”
“Knox Torren.” Knox shook his hand. “Darya told us you’re the person who helped her escape.”
Sergei looked to Darya, a silent question behind his eyes.
“I have no secrets from Knox,” Darya said quietly. “Not from him or his family.”
“Her family,” Knox corrected.
It took only a handful of seconds, but Sergei nodded and spoke to the room at large. “Just as well. It will make the news I have to share less tedious in the details.”
Darya glanced at Ninette and Sylvie as though double checking to ensure they were still there. Both had forgone any pretense of busy work in favor of watching the scene unfold, but in that second, some womanly communication shuttled silently between the three of them. Darya turned her attention back to Sergei and rubbed her hands together in an uncustomary nervous gesture. “We have some coffee left. Maybe you could have a seat with Jace and Axel, and you can tell us what brought you here.”
A pleasant buzz moved through Knox, a little warm fuzzy and a whole lot of male pride pushing his shoulders back a notch. As much as he’d grown accustomed to Ninette and Sylvie commandeering the bulk of their family gatherings, having Darya be the one at the helm slathered up his ego like nobody’s business.
Sergei dipped his head in a regal nod and moved in beside Darya as she led the way.
It was only when Sergei approached the table, that Jace and Axel found their feet, each offering respectful handshakes and stern faces in greeting. Danny and Beckett fell in right behind them, introducing themselves in clipped, businesslike tones. In between it all, Darya snagged her coffee off the countertop and a fresh mug for Sergei, then aimed her ass for the empty chair beside Knox.
Yeah, it was a total caveman move, but Knox rerouted her before gravity could gain much headway and redirected her into his lap. The second her body settled into his, a good chunk of his tension unwound, leaving him as focused as if he’d settled into a code. He locked stares with Sergei. “The guards said we had a mutual acquaintance to discuss.”
Sergei nodded. “My men noted you leading Darya from her apartment with a suitcase. They also noted heightened security at your building and that neither you or Darya left the building for work as is your normal routine. I can only assume from those actions that you’ve surmised she’s being watched.”
“By Ruslan,” Knox said.
“Not by him. Not yet. But his men, yes. They arrived in Dallas Tuesday morning and immediately started tracking her movements.”
“Okay, that explains why we’re interested in him,” Knox said. “Now share what makes him a mutual concern.”
“Because he has become a detriment to many important families.” Sergei’s gaze darted to Darya long enough to consider his words, then refocused on Knox. “I take it Darya explained the term pakhan?”