Free Take Me for a Ride by Karen Kendall Page B

okay?”
    Who is Sheila?
    “How can I just treat you like the hired help? Here’s a lightbulb for you, Sweet Cheeks: You are the hired help.” He laughed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’ve got me running scared. Now, give me Miguel, will you? Thanks.”
    Whoever this Sheila person was, they had a very comfortable, mock-abusive relationship. Natalie supposed that Miguel was the friend who would check the manifests.
    “Buenos, Miguel. It’s Eric. I’m in Connecticut, freezing my nuts off. How’s Maribel? You gonna give her that ring she’s angling for?”
    McDougal’s deeply amused laughter followed the unknown Miguel’s response.
    “Just be warned, my friend,” Eric said in low tones. “Everything changes, or so I hear. I wouldn’t know personally.”
    So he’d never been engaged or married himself. Natalie got two mugs out of Nonnie’s cupboard and set them on the old tile-and-grout countertop. Then she went to the pantry for teabags and sugar.
    “Yeah. I have a big favor to ask. Can you check outbound flights in the tristate area for a Tatyana Ciccoli and a male companion, name of Blakely?”
    “Ted,” she called from the kitchen.
    “Theodore?” he queried back.
    “Yes.”
    “Okay, Miguel. The destination is going to be somewhere in Russia—”
    “Moscow,” she called.
    “Moscow is the likeliest city. Yes. Would have left yesterday, or maybe the day before.” Eric fell silent, obviously holding the line while his buddy did a search.
    The kettle began to boil. Nat turned off the burner and poured water into both mugs.
    “Yeah, Miguel, I’m here. You got a hit? Today? Great. Both of them? British Airways? Brilliant. Appreciate it.”
    McDougal, grinning widely, strode into the kitchen. “Bingo. Granny and the colonel took off for Moscow a few hours ago.”
    “How would they have gotten visas so fast?”
    Eric shrugged. “Pay a hefty rush fee, and they can turn a visa around within a day or two.”
    Natalie handed him a mug and gestured to the sugar bowl, indicating that he should help himself. Then she took a deep breath. “Okay. I guess this means I need a visa myself. Also a guidebook, a dictionary, and a very expensive plane ticket.”
    He went very still. “Why?”
    “Well, I’m going to Russia, of course.”
    “What good do you think that will do?”
    “Eric, I have to get that necklace back from her! As long as it’s in her possession, she’s in danger.”
    “And you have a black belt in what, exactly? Fashion design?”
    She raised her chin. “Wow. That was patronizing.”
    “Look, I didn’t mean it that way . . .”
    “I have to go, Eric. What else can I do? Get the KGB—or whatever they call it now—involved? I don’t think so!”
    “Hell, no, but—”
    “I made the mistake of starting this,” she said quietly. “And now I have to see it to the finish.”
    He seemed agitated, avoiding her gaze and staring down into his tea.
    “You want milk in that?”
    He snorted and met her gaze with his unholy, heart-breaking blue one. “Got any whiskey instead?”
     
    Eric splashed a healthy two shots of whiskey into the mug of tea Natalie had handed him. Well, McD, now you are well and truly screwed, aren’t you? You have to chase Granny into the great white frozen hinterlands of Russia, but you can’t do that if Natalie’s chasing her, too.
    Or could he?
    He was pretty good at sneaking around—it went with the job territory.
    As he saw it, he had two choices: One, declare himself hopelessly in love with Natalie and force his company upon her for the journey. That seemed distastefully manipulative.
    Two, he could kiss her good-bye right now and become the shadow-man, tailing her to Moscow and staying in the background until the time was right for a surgical strike. Even if Granny wore the damned necklace for the entire trip, she had to take it off to sleep and shower.
    Since McDougal had cut his teeth repossessing cars, often from bad neighborhoods on the other side of