Page 47 of Every Last Breath

That guy would be a problem.

Maddox stroked her neck, playing with the stone at her throat. Looking bored, she scoped out the room with the finesse of the spy she’d become. A part of him still had difficulty accepting that truth.

Movement near the bookcase snagged Cole’s attention. Another man seemingly materialized out of thin air.

How long had he been there watching them?

Slender and sinewy, in his fifties or sixties, the pale man glided in like a ghost. He surveilled the room, exuding something confident. Capable. This was a man proficient in delivering pain.

Cole’s shitstorm detector pinged beware.

The man crossed the room as smoothly as a shadow would into the light. Salt-and-pepper hair framed a hardened, weather-beaten face. Dark crescents stroked under the same beetle eyes as the younger guy. There was nothing clumsy or indeterminate about him.

The eerie man raked a glance over Cole, sizing him up. Quickly, too quickly, as if he already had a bead on Cole. Then the man swung his predatory gaze to Maddox, dissecting her in a way completely devoid of sexual interest.

Cold unease welled in Cole’s stomach.

Staying loose, he turned so only Maddox saw his lips and put his hand to the small of her back. “No matter what happens, stay away from those two men.”

She stepped closer, bringing them cheek to cheek, and whispered, “Who? The horror movie creepers?” Her tone was easy-breezy, but goose bumps prickling her skin told him she’d registered the threat.

“There are about ten men in this world I wouldn’t care to go up against one-on-one. Two are in this room.” He drew back, narrowing his eyes at her. Didn’t matter how much training she had—it was easy to think you were the best at something until you met the person who taught you otherwise. “Promise me you’ll stay away from them.”

She pursed her lips into a thin line. “Not a promise I can keep.”

His pulse throbbed in his temple. Beneath his muddled emotions for Maddox, there was one thing as certain as a compass needle: his determination to protect her. “Damn it, woman—”

The music stopped, and he turned toward the piano, swallowing the rest of his words.

A puff of teased white hair rose from behind the Steinway, attached to a small, lean man in his midsixties with wire-rimmed glasses. He approached Cole and Maddox in a self-assured, leisurely manner, the cut of his expensive tux flawless.

The stocky guy should take notes.

“Mr. Reznikov, welcome. I am Alexander Van Helden,” he said in a European accent, possibly Austrian. He smiled, hand extended.

Shit. Cole had come across the name once at Rubicon. This man was throwing the party, but he wasn’t the seller. He was a middleman who facilitated the tricky sale of illegal products. The guy had a firm handshake.

“Nikolai Reznikov. This is my wife, Maddie.”

“And business partner, darling.” Maddox leaned closer to Cole and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. “We make all big decisions together,” she said to their host.

“Enchanté,” Van Helden said to Maddox as a white-gloved butler came over carrying a tray of glasses. “Would you care for champagne?”

“Thank you.” Maddox took a Baccarat flute.

“Nikolai. Not the Reznikov I expected.” Van Helden ran a finger across his top lip. “I heard you were dead.”

“I’m back from the grave to help my brother. He was shot this morning and was no longer inclined to attend.”

Van Helden’s eyebrows raised and he shook his head. “I abhor violence. Mr. Blackburn and Mr. Callahan won’t be joining us either. Unfortunate. I’m sure the final price would’ve been higher if they’d participated.”

“Perhaps that’s the reason they’re not here.” Maddox risked flashing a dazzling smile, but it played well.

Like crocodiles, circling, Mr. Shadow floated through the room in tandem with Mr. Singular Focus.

“Do we get to meet the seller?” Cole stroked Maddox’s arm to draw her gaze and mitigate any surprised looks in case she didn’t realize Van Helden was only a middleman.

“Afraid not.” Their host gave an exaggerated pout. “The seller wants to remain anonymous.”