The Moon That Night Page 16

  Kate picked up a glass. “Cheers!”

  “Good luck tonight,” Roman said.

  Riley couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Kate. That dress. The coat. Those legs. She glanced at him, her eyes sparkling, and his resolve spun out of focus.

  Get a grip, soldier.

  “Riley?” she said.

  “Thank you, Roman.” Unsmiling, Riley downed his shot. “Come on, Kate. Let’s move.”

  “Showtime.” Roman followed. “What kind of weapons do you need?”

  “Nothing.”

  Kate threw a questioning gaze in Riley’s direction.

  “With the metal detectors,” he explained, heading outside. “We won’t get anything through.”

  Roman had managed to get hold of two vehicles for them, a sleek, shiny black Maserati and a junker with, no doubt, a big-ass engine under the hood, both of which had been stolen, since no one was taking any chances that what happened tonight might be traced back to Roman.

  “You take the Maserati,” Riley said to Kate as he walked toward the getaway car.

  “Be careful,” Roman said.

  “Come back someday for a real visit,” Svetlana said. “Both of you.”

  “Thanks for everything,” Riley said, glancing at the couple. “If there’s ever anything I can help you with…”

  “I know, Riley. I know.” Roman gave him a quick, tight man-hug. “As soon as you have the statues, you two must leave Moscow immediately.”

  “Understood.” Belov was so well connected it would likely take him only a few hours after finding out his statues were gone to identify Riley and Kate. “I’ll let you know when we hit Istanbul.”

  “Do svidanye,” Roman said.

  Riley glanced at Kate. “You ready?”

  She nodded.

  “Let’s do this.”

  Their journey to the ultraposh suburb of Rublevo west of Moscow was uneventful. Once they drew near the grounds of the Belov estate, Riley pulled off to the side of the road. Kate followed, letting the car idle while he hid his car in the woods.

  A moment later he joined Kate in the Maserati. As they approached the mansion, lit up in full splendor for the fundraising event, Kate said, “I have to admit I’m a little nervous.”

  “Stick to the plan and you’ll be fine. Act naturally and visit with your curator friend. He’s bound to introduce you to others. As soon as you’re settled with his group, I’ll slip away to take care of getting the statues. Give me ten minutes max, then you leave alone in the Maserati. As soon as I have the statues, I’ll slip out through the grounds, take the other car and meet you at the hotel by the airport.”

  “Piece of cake,” she said lightly as they waited in line for a valet to take their car.

  Right. She was at risk, they both knew it, and it didn’t sit well with Riley. If any of Belov’s security people discovered what Riley was up to, it wouldn’t take them long to view security camera footage and identify Kate as his associate. Riley had been heavily trained for much riskier assignments than this, but Kate? If they got caught on this one, there was no going to prison. Belov would simply execute them. That is, if they were lucky.

  Over and over again in the past couple of days, opportunities had presented themselves for her to bow out of this mess. She could have, probably should have, left him high and dry. He wouldn’t have blamed her. She’d never even fired a gun. But over and over again she’d chosen to stay and help.

  “Why?” he whispered into the quiet darkness of the car.

  She turned toward him. “Why what?”

  They were only a couple cars away from the front entrance. She could still back out. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” Riley said. “You don’t need to be a part of this.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “March isn’t your problem. Any number of times these past few days, you could’ve left. Walked away. No one would’ve blamed you. I’d understand. So why are you helping me?”

  “It’s the quickest way for you to get the statues.”

  That he couldn’t argue.

  “Kinda kills you that you’ve needed me on more than one occasion, doesn’t it, Riley?”

  In spite of himself and the inherent danger they faced, he chuckled.

  “Seriously, though.” She glanced into his eyes. “You’re not as bulletproof as you think.”

  He knew. Being around Kate—and Ally—seemed to be making him even more aware of his vulnerabilities. Unfortunately, tonight that presented a problem. If they were to achieve their objective, he had to stay as focused as a machine, and that was going to prove hard to do with her in that dress.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  UNDER A BRIGHT FULL MOON, Kate climbed out of the Maserati. The air was crisp and cold. Small, airy flakes of snow fell miraculously from the clear sky, as if magic drifted in the air. Riley came to her side and handed the car keys to a valet. A moment later a security guard located Kate’s name on the guest list, and without a hitch they were directed straight into the foyer of the traditional, Tudor-style mansion. The party was already in full swing as an attendant took Svetlana’s fur jacket from Kate.

  Moving through the throngs of guests, a thrill of anticipation running along her spine, Kate watched for Sasha. She would’ve been lying to say she wasn’t, at least in part, enjoying this night’s promise of intrigue, not to mention the fanfare and decorations. She’d never been to this extravagant a private party.

  “Have you ever seen anything quite like this?” she asked Riley as they were making their way through the crowd.

  “Never,” he murmured.

  A Christmas tree, at least twelve feet tall and lavishly decorated, stood sentinel in a far corner. Lights had been strung like a loosely knit spiderweb over the crowd. A sweeping staircase far off to the right was decorated with red satin bows and aromatic pine garlands. And the backdrop for all this finery consisted of the largest windows Kate had ever seen in a private home. It was black outside, but the full moon shone brightly through the glass, illuminating the light, fluffy snow continuing to fall. The setting was nothing short of enchanting, and if the never-ending flutes of champagne, trays of extravagant appetizers, and diamonds dripping off the women guests were any indication, Moscow’s wealthiest were in attendance.

  “Did you know that a good chunk of the world’s billionaires live in Moscow?” she whispered over the sounds of a live band playing soft, classical jazz.

  “I did.”

  “No one seems to know where they got all their money.”

  “That’s easy,” he whispered in her ear, sending a shot of awareness low in her belly. “Some are in the illegal oil trade. Smuggling weapons. Not to mention drugs and human trafficking. If it’s illegal, organized crime is into it.”

  She glanced over at him and it was as if she was seeing Riley for the first time. For a soldier, he looked awfully comfortable in this setting and in a tuxedo. As much as she enjoyed him dressed down in a T-shirt and worn jeans, she liked the looks of him clean shaven and dressed to kill.

  “Do you see him anywhere?” he asked.

  “Who?” She stared at that rugged cleft in his chin, more visible now that he’d shaved.

  “Sasha,” he said, studying her with a critical eye. Then he gently patted her cheek. “Kate, where are you? Focus.”

  “Right.”

  He held her arm, his face serious. “This isn’t a game, Kate. Everything you see around here is for show. Vasili Belov is not a nice man. He’s linked to one of the most ruthless crime syndicates in the world. You need to be at the top of your game tonight. Okay?”

  “You’re right. I know.” Reorienting herself, she took a deep breath.

  As if to prove his point, Kate suddenly became aware of the one incongruent piece to an otherwise perfect picture—the smell of cigarettes and the slight haze of smoke hanging in the air. At least one person in every group had a cigarette dangling from his or her hand and there were ashtrays, nearly filled with butts, on every fla
t surface. She wasn’t in D.C. anymore.

  Turning her attention back to the crowd, she scanned faces for her friend. The security guards stationed at every corner of the patio and interspersed along the edges of the yard snapped her back to attention the way nothing else could. A moment later she spotted Sasha with a small group of people standing near a bubbling water fountain next to the dance floor.

  He grinned and waved her over.

  “Sasha!”

  “Kate! Privyet!”

  “It’s such a welcome surprise to see you again.” He hugged her. “I’m so happy you called.” He introduced her to the others in his group, all coworkers.

  Kate introduced Riley as her traveling companion, and the conversation went from there, as Sasha and his friends all spoke at least some English. What do you do? How long are you in Russia? Where are you staying? And on and on while couples danced nearby on the crowded floor.

  Waiters carried around trays of ice-cold champagne and martinis. Also offered were various appetizers—caviar blini, smoked herring, stuffed mushrooms, a variety of shish kebabs and trays of fresh fruit, including every type of melon you could imagine. Desserts of honey cakes and chocolate sponge cake were offered, as well.

  Too nervous to eat, Kate didn’t touch a thing. Although Riley had snatched a martini from a passing waiter, he didn’t take a sip. Finally he set the glass down and whispered in her ear, “It’s almost time.” He held out a hand. “Dance with me?” His soft commanding voice tripped through her like a shot of electricity.

  Without a word, she put her hand in his and they slipped seamlessly onto the dance floor. Moving in slow, sensuous rhythm, Riley pulled her close. She rested her cheek on his chest, felt his heat through the crisp dress shirt and wished she could transport them to another place, another time, where Jenny was safe and March was out of the picture.

  Suddenly he stopped moving, his embrace tightened around her and Kate held her breath. So much had happened between them in such a short amount of time, she didn’t know where to begin piecing it all together. Only one thing was for sure. She could love this man, was already loving him.

  “Kate,” he whispered. “I…”

  She drew back and glanced into his face. Say it, Riley. I know you’re feeling this, too.

  He held her gaze for a moment, looked as if he might spill his guts and then, instead, leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “I need to go.” As if he couldn’t get off the dance floor fast enough, he drew her back to Sasha’s group. “That’s Vasili Belov, isn’t it?” he asked Sasha. “Up there by the Christmas tree?”

  Sasha turned. “Da. That’s him.”

  “And the woman in white next to him?”

  A platinum blonde with long flowing hair and glittering jewelry, she was one of the more stunning people at the fund-raiser. The only thing spoiling her look was her extremely bored expression.

  “His wife,” he answered.

  Belov, on the other hand, distinguished-looking with salt-and-pepper hair, didn’t look bored as much as watchful, as if he expected something to go wrong at any moment.

  Kate glanced at Riley and found him assessing not only Belov, but also the security guards, ready to make his move. Smiling, clearly for the benefit of those around them, he leaned toward her and whispered, “This is it.”

  “Be careful,” she whispered back.

  Despite the curve to his lips, the look in his eyes was intense and serious as he squeezed her arm. “Don’t wait around. I mean it, Kate. The sooner you get out of here, the better.”

  Suddenly their plan seemed more than flawed. It seemed impossible. “I’m worried about leaving you.”

  “Don’t be. This is what I do.” He touched her cheek in a surprisingly tender gesture and his gaze moved to her lips. For a moment she could’ve sworn he was going to kiss her. “In ten minutes, tell Sasha you’re not feeling well and leave. Make sure you’re not followed. Okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Promise me you’ll leave.”

  Glancing into his eyes, she suddenly wanted to promise so much more to him.

  “Kate.”

  “I promise. Ten minutes.”

  Slowly he slipped into the crowd and never looked back.

  RILEY WAS IN BIG TROUBLE, and it didn’t have a thing to do with March or Vasili Belov. His feelings for Kate were becoming a lot more serious than simply wanting to get her in bed with him. Complicated. He hated complicated. As he walked away from her, it took everything he had in him to not look back.

  Focus. All she has to do is walk back out to the car and leave. She’d do it. He knew she would.

  Riley made his way through the crowd. The information March had provided indicated the statues were displayed in Belov’s library on the second floor. Even without a guard stationed at the base of the main staircase near the main entrance, that route wasn’t an option. The steps were too open, too visible to the crowd below.

  Based on the blueprints of the home, he thought his best bet was a staircase off the kitchen. All he had to do was get past the security guard stationed at the double doors the catering staff was using to access the kitchen. Ten minutes upstairs. That’s all he needed.

  He snatched a nearby tray partially filled with dirty plates and glasses, lifted it above his head and quickly covered the remaining fifty feet. As he approached the security guard near the doors leading into the kitchen, he stumbled, tipping the tray and sending a plate of stuffed mushrooms flying. Several hit the guard in the chest.

  “Idiot!” the guard hissed in Russian, grabbing a napkin and dabbing at the grease stains on his white shirt.

  Riley put his head down, mumbled an apology and slipped through the doors. Immediately he stopped in the shadows to assess the situation. Through the catering staff’s frenzied activity, he located the steps leading to the second floor. A security guard was stationed at the base.

  He put the tray on the floor, grabbed an empty martini glass and walked toward the guard, weaving a bit as he went. “Where’s the bathroom…in this joint?” he said, slurring his words. As he came closer to the guard, he threw an arm over the man’s shoulder and slumped into him. “Someone said I c…could take a pi…iss back here.”

  The guard grabbed Riley around the waist as he said something in Russian into his earpiece. Then he took a step toward the back service entrance, dragging Riley with him. “Sir, I’m going to escort you outside,” he said in stilted, accented English. “Please come with me.”

  Doing his best to remain limp, Riley glanced around. A few of the catering staff had watched the goings-on for a moment, but were now all back to work. This wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

  The moment they hit the cold outside air, Riley slipped behind the guard, wrapped his arm around his neck in a sleeper hold and after a brief struggle immobilized him. He stashed his body behind a row of bushes, grabbed the man’s gun and earpiece in hopes of keeping tabs on what was happening with security and went back inside, slipping up the stairs.

  The lights were off on the second floor. Not wasting any time, he located the library at the other end of the house. Penlight in hand and mundane chatter sounding over the earpiece, he located a display of original works of art front and center in the room. Kate had described exactly what to look for and he was able to quickly identify the statues March wanted, rosebuds carved on both. Taking the statues, though, would leave a large open spot on the shelving. Someone coming into the room might very well notice the missing artifacts before he and Kate had time to leave. A couple paperweights on the desk of the approximate shape and size of the statues caught his eye.

  Footsteps sounded out in the hall.

  “I’m not sure where he went,” one of the guards said over his earpiece line. Riley might not have been fluent in the language, but at least he could understand most of what was being said. “A waiter said one minute he was standing at the steps in the kitchen. The next minute he was gone.”

  They w
ere looking for the guard or Riley. Possibly both. Quickly he snatched the statues, shoved them into a small pack and set the paperweights in the case.

  “Alert,” called out one of the guards over the line. “We have an intruder in the house.”

  They were looking for Riley. This security team was fast.

  The door to the library opened as Riley slipped into the adjoining bedroom. On opening the closet, which was a room in and of itself, he moved behind the door and waited. For the moment he was stuck here.

  Whoever had entered the library was now checking out the bedroom. As soon as all was quiet, he could slip out the window on the far side of the house and make a run for the car.

  Footsteps sounded in the bathroom and he held his breath.

  “The security tapes show the man arriving with a woman in a red dress,” someone said over the line. “Find her.”

  Now they were after Kate. He glanced at his watch. Only eight minutes since he’d left her. What were the chances she’d headed for the Maserati early?

  KATE ONLY HALF LISTENED to the heated conversation Sasha was having with his friend about a contemporary Russian painter’s style or lack thereof. She glanced at her cell phone. Riley had disappeared into the crowd a little less than ten minutes ago. Since then, the perfect opportunity hadn’t presented itself for her to beg illness and leave. But Riley was right. There was no point in her being here.

  “Sasha?” she interrupted, touching his arm.

  Startled, he spun toward her. “Yes, Kate?”

  “I’m sorry. I so appreciate you clearing the way for me to come tonight, but I’m not feeling—”

  “Excuse me, miss?” The man’s voice came from behind her.

  She turned to find a security guard assessing her, and her heart nearly lodged in her throat. Had they caught Riley? “Yes,” she said breathless.

  “Puzhalasta. Come with me. Please?” As he reached out to place his hand at the small of her back, his suit jacket swung out, revealing a gun holstered at his side.

  Something was wrong. It was there in his eyes, a look as impassive as stone. “To where?” she asked.