Free Wiser Than Serpents by Susan May Warren Page B

live.”
    “I thought she was waiting for God to tell her.” Roman picked up Vicktor’s leather jacket.
    Vicktor loaded his pockets with his money clip and attached handcuffs to his belt. “I’m hoping that is a legitimate argument and not just a reason to put off the wedding date. Because I’ve told her I’d be willing to live in America.”
    “And she’s willing to live in Russia?”
    “She says she is. But I don’t see her applying for a visa, do you?” Vicktor grabbed his watch from the bathroom shelf, put it on. “She says I treat her like she constantly needs to be rescued. That I think she goes looking for trouble.” He looked up at Roman. “I might have said she knows how to find it, but I’m not overprotective, am I?”
    Roman gave him a sad grin. “Oh, Vicktor. Do you not know yourself at all?”
    He wasn’t a stalker, was he? Vicktor shot a look in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes and an overnight beard growth. “You have to admit, she gets into more trouble than most women. And I hate living so far away. I want to marry her, and now. But I’m starting to wonder if that’s what she really wants.”
    “Who can tell with women? I took Sarai’s car to the repair shop two weeks ago, and it’s still waiting in the lot for parts. She’s mad at me because she doesn’t have a car. But she seems to think that the ‘add oil’ light means to drive a little slower. I’d be surprised if it didn’t need a new engine. I’m in trouble regardless of what I do. Grab your cell and the charger.”
    Vicktor swiped it from the table, gave a longing look at his quiet computer. “I’ve asked her what the problem is. I get a ‘Nothing’s wrong,’ which I know really means, ‘You’ve really bumbled it now, pal, and it’s up to you to figure out not only exactly what you did, but how to fix it.’” He pocketed the cell.
    One side of Roman’s mouth lifted up, but he shook his head. “Maybe you should give her what she wants.”
    Vicktor took his coat from Roman. “What’s that?”
    “Stop rescuing her.” Roman opened the door. “Give her some space. Don’t hover. Stop fixing things.”
    “Like we’re doing to Yanna?” Vicktor followed Roman through the door and closed it behind him.
    “We’re not dating Yanna. Besides, this is different. She’s in trouble, and the last thing she needs is to be out there by herself.”
    “I just don’t want Gracie to think the same thing.”

Chapter Six
    D avid ached from his shoulders to his toes. The early-morning dawn illuminated the shoreline in a jagged outline and he figured he had about an hour before either he landed on shore or Kwan’s men discovered their so-called American arms dealer floating on the high seas.
    He should have driven Kwan’s speedboat straight into shore and made a run for the nearest airport. But no, he had to get tricky.
    And it might cost him and Yanna their lives.
    They’d finally cleared the shipping lanes, no thanks to his stellar paddling and all due to the generous wake churned up by the freighters that pushed them toward shore. Frankly, he could probably sit back and let the current bring them in. But paddling gave him something to do.
    Something to focus on.
    Something to get his mind off what he really wanted to do—and knew he shouldn’t.
    How he’d like to somehow hit Pause and regroup, return to the moment when Yanna was in his arms, looking as if she wanted to kiss him, looking as if she needed him…
    And he’d nearly kissed her. When she looked at him like that, searching his face, everything inside him had simply shut off—all the voices from the past, voices of reason that had kept him from doing something foolish over the years, like quitting his job, packing up his life, and moving over to Russia just to be in her airspace.
    No—more specifically—he wanted to be in her arms.
    And it didn’t help that he’d almost lost her, that he’d spent nearly an hour with her tucked close to his chest, that