Free Russian Mobster’s Blackmailed Bride by Bella Rose Page B

skirt. Well—that might have been part of his goal, but it encompassed much more than just a desire to see her naked again.
    “Do you always travel like this?” Trisha asked.
    Anatoly had been watching her explore their accommodations for going on twenty minutes now. “You’ve probably given this car a more thorough examination than I did when it was delivered to me.”
    “Seriously?” She turned around and flashed him a quick smile before shaking her head in obvious consternation. “You rich people never pay much attention to what you purchase. You just fork over a huge amount of money and assume you’re getting what you pay for.”
    “I wouldn’t say that.”
    She snorted. “I would.”
    “So what is your assessment then?” he prodded, curious to know her thoughts.
    She turned a slow circle in the center of the car. “The construction seems to be good. I would say airtight with good soundproofing since you don’t hear much in the way of noise from the air rushing by. Although, you don’t hear much from the appliances going in here, either.”
    “And the furnishings?” He raised his glass to her before taking a drink.
    “The bar is nice. It’s obviously well stocked. I’m guessing those couches over there convert to beds of some sort.” She gestured to the far end of the car.
    He waggled his eyebrows. “Would you like to find out?”
    “Gee, let me think, having sex in the middle of the day on a speeding train where anyone could walk in or take a peek through the windows. No thanks!” She actually laughed at the idea. “You’re cute, though. I’ll give you that.”
    “You’ve made mention of rich people several times,” he commented, wanting to draw her out on the subject. “It seems like you might be prejudiced against people with money.”
    “Only when they feel like it entitles them to anything they want.” She passed him a meaningful glance.
    “I assume by your pointed look that you are referring to me?” He didn’t particularly like being lumped in with “all those rich people,” but there was nothing he could do to refute her accusations.
    “I’ve known several rich people in my lifetime,” she mused. “None of them were particularly nice, and even though they could afford to be generous, they weren’t.”
    “If we gave it all away, soon everyone would be the same.”
    She gave him a look filled with sarcastic mockery. “I’m sorry, don’t they call that communism?”
    “Touché,” he said, loving her wit. “Although the only difference between communism and capitalism is that communists take better care of their poor people.”
    “Ouch!” She placed a hand over her heart. “I don’t suppose I can really argue against that.”
    He waved his hand. “Enough with politics.”
    “Shall we move on to religion?” She raised an eyebrow and fingered the brocade curtains hanging over the windows.
    He watched her stroke the rich fabric and completely lost track of anything but the memory of what it felt like to have her hands on his skin. When had he become so enamored? It was a little frightening.
    “Tell me about your work.” Her soft tone was encouraging, as if she were truly curious. “What makes the mafia different from any other kind of business? In my experience, all business practices balance on the edge of ethics anyway.”
    “True.” Settling back more comfortably into his seat, he thought about what he did for a living. For some reason, he was eager to explain himself to her. It was preposterous, but he could admit that’s how he felt. “I run hotels and casinos. It isn’t the traditional mafia way, but it has been quite lucrative for me.”
    “What’s the major difference?”
    “Well, most of the mafia families deal in drugs or illegal fighting, and there is a lot of involvement in the skin trade as well.” He shrugged. “I don’t find those to be profitable enterprises.”
    Something about the set of her chin gave him the impression that she