“What is it?” the doctor hissed, leaning forward toward me. “What are they talking about?”
I stared at the doctor, unsure how to respond. Surely he knew what manner of folk he’d fallen in with. “How did you meet these men?”
“When I wasn’t able to get enough medicine through approved channels, I approached one of my benefactors for help. He set up the meetin,g but I have not met the men in this room before today.” The thin man slapped one hand on the table, inadvertently drawing attention to himself. “What is it they say?”
“Weapons,” I replied, sick to my stomach. “Guns more than likely. They’ll be added to your shipment.”
“Non!” Marchand banged both fists on the table and stood suddenly. “Tell them this is unacceptable,” he insisted, gesticulating wildly, the briefcase waving about like a bludgeon. “This was to be a medical operation; I cannot allow them to…”
Around the room, guns appeared in several hands. The Frenchman stuttered to a halt, his eyes going wide. My heart clenched in shared terror as the men in the room trained their weapons on the doctor. “No, wait,” I exclaimed, rising to my feet, only to be pushed back into my seat by the hand gripping my shoulder. “Please, I misinterpreted something.” Turning to Marchand, I said, “Please, think about your patients. If you die now, they’ll never have help.”
“If I allow this to happen,” the doctor replied, voice high and fearful, his gaze moving between each of the men holding guns on him, “then I will be to blame for those who come into my clinic because of these weapons.”
His words were like a suckerpunch to the gut. “Mr. Marchand,” I begged, “please sit. This will happen now whether you want it or not, and all we can do is make the best of it.”
The doctor’s eyes swung between the men and my face, then with his hands still up on either side of his head he slowly lowered himself back into the seat. The defeat on his face was heartbreaking; he hugged the briefcase to his chest and, from the glare he gave me, I knew I was now firmly lumped in with the “bad guys” category.
I felt like one, too.
“What did he say?” the Australian asked, watching me intently.
“He, um, didn’t know about the addition to the shipment.”
The other man snorted. “Of course he didn’t, love, or he’d never have agreed to throw his money in the pot. As long as he doesn’t do that again.”
“He won’t, I promise.” I glanced at the doctor. The thin man’s glare nailed me to my seat, and I prayed he would keep quiet.
The Scotsman stepped forward at some silent order, wrenching the briefcase out of the French doctor’s arms and setting it on the table. He unlocked and opened it, and my breath stuttered as I beheld more money than I’d ever seen in one place before. “This should cover the up-front costs,” the Australian continued. “I am, however, open to certain…negotiations.”
There was a smug note in the man’s voice, and when I looked up I saw him watching me, a lascivious look on his face. His eyes darted down to my chest, his grin widening, then he barked a laugh when I adjusted the shirt higher. “Your little translator amuses me,” he said, glancing briefly at Lucas. “Give her to me for twenty-four hours, and you can have ten percent of the profits.”
My heart froze, ice shards tearing through my body. I dug my fingers into my thighs until one of the nails broke. The pain jolted me upright, and the hand on my shoulder tightened.
“Ten percent? That’s a generous offer.”
I twisted my head to see if Lucas meant what he said, but the arms dealer didn’t look at me. His gaze was set on the Australian, who was in turn watching me. The blond man leaned close, his hazel eyes searching mine. This close, I could see even in the low light that fighting and age had destroyed the finer edges of his face. His nose was crooked, the white lines of scars stood out on his chin and forehead, and one ear sported a thick layer of cartilage I’d seen on boxers. Even then, he might have been considered ruggedly handsome if not for the decidedly evil twinkle in his eye, ruining an already damaged visage. I immediately dropped my eyes, and heard him grunt in approval. “She wears fear well.”
Behind me, Lucas shifted, clucking his tongue. “And here I thought you were a married man.”
“My wife knows her place, and knows better than to question what I want. Whether I take some on the side is no business of hers.”
“Ah. Then you wouldn’t mind a trade then?”
The blond man blinked, the smirk slipping from his face. Abandoning me, he peered up at Lucas. Jealousy flickered across the Australian’s face. “What are you saying?” he growled.
“Your wife for my little translator.” When the other man’s face mottled in rage, Lucas smiled. “What, are you afraid what your wife might think about a real man?”
“You son of a…” The Australian grabbed at the gun on his hip, then the giant Russian man was there.
“Enough,” he stated, muscles in his arms bulging as he crossed them over a wide chest. Vasili leaned down until he was face to face with the blond man. “Niall,” he murmured, addressing the Australian. “Do we have a deal?”
Niall glared at Lucas, then down at me. The hand on my shoulder clenched ever so slightly, the only sign of Lucas’ strain over the argument. Niall subsided. “We have a deal,” he said bitterly. Not speaking another word, he signaled to his men. The Scotsman pulled the French doctor upright, dragging the man out of the room with everyone else.
I sagged in my chair, rolling my head backwards in relief. I didn’t even realize I was leaning into Lucas’ hip until he moved, lifting the hand off my shoulder. Until he pulled away, I hadn’t realized how much his presence stabilized me. Swallowing hard, I gripped my knees, grateful when he moved away but ironically missing his strength.
“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”
Vasili ignored him, studying me for a moment. The Russian’s stony gaze wasn’t as scary as the lascivious look the Australian had given me, but was unnerving nonetheless. “Where is Anya?” he asked finally, thick accent rolling the letters of the other woman’s name.
Emotional memories of a beautiful blonde woman dying on the ground resurfaced, and I bowed my head. Beside me, Lucas’ smile faltered, then finally fell from his lips. “I required a new translator.”