Lap of Luxury (Love Don't Cost a Thing)

She folds her arms, mulish, just looking at him. I glance around the room for a weapon, and pick up a heavy wooden statue and brandish it like a club. I’d prefer a gun, but at least I’ll have something to protect myself with out there.

Damir glares at me, and then addresses Mikhail. “Got any rope, brata?”

“You tie me up again and I will rip your dick off and make you eat it,” I growl. “If you’re happy to use me as jewelry bait, then you don’t get to go all caveman on me now.”

“He used y

ou as bait?” Mikhail exclaims, but I’m not listening. I’ve only got eyes for Damir.

“Fine!” he shouts. “You can come, but you’re keeping out of—”

Ciara steps in front of us. “No. I’m going with Damir. Bethany’s going with Misha. We’re going to do this together.” She looks at Damir as she says this. He glares back at her, loathing writ large on his face.

Mikhail shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you alone with him.”

At the same time, Damir protests, “I’m not taking her! She falls apart at the sight of blood.”

But Ciara just picks up the twin of the wooden statue that I’m holding. I see what she’s doing. She’s banking on her being the one Damir truly hates, and if he sees she’s not his enemy then he might let it go. She’s trying to end the feud between the brothers, because it’s the only way she’ll be certain that the father of her child will live.

Ciara shoots me a look, asking silently for my support. I don’t want to give my support. I think her being alone with Damir is the stupidest idea since The Pop-Up Book of Phobias but she’s glaring at me so hard I think her eyes might melt me.

If that’s what she wants, it’s her neck. I’ll be going with the sane brother.

“Good idea,” I say, stepping toward my old boss and raising my hand for a high five. “Hey, the dream team’s back together.”

Mikhail ignores me. He’s too busy protesting loudly that Ciara’s not going anywhere with Damir, and Damir joins in.

Ciara shrugs. “Fine. Bethany and I will go out there together. Pregnant and—” she drops her weapon on the table “—unarmed. Oh, dear. Do you think we’ll survive?”

I drop my statue as well and we saunter toward the door. As soon as my back is to the brothers, I grin to myself. I wish I’d known Ciara better back at university. I think would have liked her a lot.

“All right, wait!”

Both the brothers charge in front of us and block the door, standing shoulder to shoulder and glaring down at us. We stare stubbornly back at them.

Damir turns to Mikhail. “If anything happens to her, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Same to you, brata,” Mikhail snarls back. His eyes linger on his brother’s face, and then he reaches for Ciara and pulls her into his arms. “Ljubica. Be careful. Stay behind Damir and keep your head down. Don’t…” His hand seeks her belly and caresses her there, and his forehead presses against hers. His face says it all.

Please don’t die. I need you.

“Ljubim te,” he whispers.

“Ljubim te,” she whispers back, and they kiss tenderly. I swear I hear violins swell around them.

Damir yanks me toward him and clamps a hand around my throat. His angry eyes blaze into mine, the AK-47 is still hefted in his grip. “If you fucking die, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“God, stop it with the romance, would you? I’m going to be sick.”

He tries to kiss me, but I turn my face away. “While you’re out there you need to do some hard thinking about what it is you truly want, or you’ll never see me or your child again.”

“Ljubim te to you, too, princesa,” he growls.

“What’s that? I love you?” I pick up the two statues from the table and throw one to Ciara, who catches it. “Save it. I’m not interested until you get off this revenge train.”

Mikhail points at his brother. “One last thing, Damir. If Ciara gets so much as a scratch on her out there, if you even think of using her as bait, I’ll impale you ass-first on a kitchen knife.”

Damir turns to look at the slender blonde woman, his voice soft, but with menace rather than reassurance. “Don’t worry, Misha. Your precious ones are safe with me.”