Killer Instinct (Instinct #2)(53)

What a coincidence. Elizabeth proceeded to showcase the rest of her research, discussing trips she’d taken to various museums around the world. The way she talked about the time she got lost in the Louvre, she was almost starting to believe it herself.

“There’s one museum still on my bucket list, though,” she said. “I imagine you’ve been.”

“I’ve been to them all.”

“Given your accent, I mean.” There were a lot of museums in Russia, sort of like there were a lot of guys named LeBron who play basketball.

“Ah, the Hermitage,” said Viktor. “I was actually raised in Saint Petersburg. I know the museum like …” His voice trailed off as he showed her the back of his hand. He then lightly stroked Elizabeth’s arm with it.

“That’s awfully presumptuous of you,” she said playfully.

“I’m only just getting started. What are you doing after this?”

“That depends. What do you have in mind?”

“Whatever you want. Dinner? Dancing?” He watched Elizabeth frown. “What? What did I say wrong?” he asked.

“I already told you what excited me,” she said.

“You want to see some art?”

Elizabeth bit her lower lip and nodded as if the word art were code for the craziest, kinkiest sex act a man like Viktor could ever imagine.

He glanced at the gold Rolex on his wrist. “I can think of only one place that’s still open at this hour,” he said.

“A museum?”

“Actually, it’s more of a gallery. At least it doubles as a gallery.”

“What is it when it’s not a gallery?”

“My apartment.”

“We just met and already you’re inviting me back to your place?”

“Like I said, I’m only getting started.” Viktor leaned forward, whispering in her ear, “Do you want to see my Picasso?”





CHAPTER 74


ELIZABETH CRANED her neck as she stood outside the door of Viktor’s penthouse apartment in SoHo while he fumbled with his keys. There was no hallway. It was more like an oversized foyer, which made little sense given there was only one other apartment on the floor. The rich really know how to waste space.

Quickly, she clocked the exits. The elevator bank, how she and Viktor arrived, along with the stairwell to the right of it. They were at six and nine.

Back at midnight, Viktor was turning off his alarm, tapping a keypad on the wall just inside his door.

“All clear,” he said. “Welcome.”

Elizabeth had faked everything with him up until that point. Walking in, though, her reaction was as real as it gets. “Wow,” she said.

It clearly paid to be an art dealer—and whatever else Viktor Alexandrov was involved in. Never mind the floor-to-ceiling windows and the designer furniture. It was all about the walls in the living room straight ahead. The only things missing were the velvet museum ropes in front of all the paintings. Viktor wasn’t kidding about his apartment doubling as a gallery.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked.

“Yes. But not before the tour,” said Elizabeth.

“Of course.” Viktor took a step toward the living room.

“No. I want to see the whole apartment. Where you eat. Where you work.” She paused. “Where you sleep.”

Viktor liked that. He liked that a lot. Maybe he didn’t need to get her drunk first, after all. “Follow me,” he said.

He began showing her every room of his massive apartment. The kitchen, the dining room, the den that served as his office. Next came his bedroom.

“What are you doing?” asked Elizabeth.

“Changing into something more comfortable,” said Viktor, standing in front of his king-size bed and removing his suit jacket. “Would you like to do the same? You could borrow a robe.”

“Maybe in a little bit,” she said. “When we’re done with the tour.”

“Ah, yes, my artwork,” he said. “I’ll be sure to show you that after.”

“After what?”

Viktor stepped toward Elizabeth, reaching for her shoulder and the strap of her dress. “After this.”

“Not so fast,” she said, putting a hand over his. “If you want to see what’s underneath, you’re going to have to earn it.”

“Earn it?”

“Yes. You heard me.” She cocked her hip, teasing him. “Do you think you’re up for it?”

It was the daily double of male button pushing. The prospect of sex combined with challenging his masculinity. Viktor was suddenly putty in her hands.

“Darling,” he said, “I’m up for anything.”

“Good.” Elizabeth took a step back and peeled a strap off her shoulder. “Follow me.”





CHAPTER 75


I KEPT staring through the crack of the stairwell door, waiting for Viktor’s door to open. What’s taking so long? Where are you, Elizabeth?

“Any longer and I’ll have to open another bottle of Scotch,” came Julian’s voice in my ear.

“Don’t get hammered on me now,” I whispered. “I need you sharp.”

“Hammered is when I’m at my sharpest, old friend. You know that.”