“Goddamn it,” he said as he exited the cab. He took careful inventory of his surroundings, knowing things were about to get complicated.
Chapter 101
From the moment Victoria Eden walked out onto the stage, everyone in attendance had been captivated. Her black evening gown, with its low-cut top and full-length slit down the side, showed just enough skin for her to exude the perfect combination of beauty and class. There was no doubt that the violinist was in her element. She had been showered by a standing ovation as she walked gracefully out of view from center stage, the sight nearly as stunning as the flawless execution of the sonata she had just played.
He was a big fan; he had to admit it. It wasn’t just her playing, it was her performance. She drew you into her world and left no room for distraction. Trent Turner considered what he’d just witnessed and it felt good. It was better than good — it was intoxicating, as evidenced by the smile still plastered on his face. It was as if she were playing for him, and he knew making people feel that way was the mark of a great entertainer. But the operative felt something more. The eye contact they shared while she was performing served as his introduction to a whole new degree of uncomfortable. She was talented, smart, persistent, attractive, and witty. Everything you could hope for in a person.
But when he considered the danger she would put herself in by associating with a man in his line of work, he shook off any illusions that it would be a good idea for them to get involved romantically. Turner wasn’t about to start a relationship with someone outside the business despite what he felt inside.
His resolute decision was interrupted by a gentle touch from a hand that now shook his arm. He sensed her presence and could feel every eye in the venue was now trained on the woman seated next to him. Turner dreaded the exposure the next few minutes might bring as he tried subtly to conceal his face. Whispers of intrigue circled the theater. He had a bad feeling about this place, and his instincts were rarely wrong. He needed to get rid of her quickly.
She smiled cautiously and asked, “Where’s your date?”
“He’s not here yet,” Turner replied.
Victoria Eden sized him up playfully.
“He?” she said with a sense of relief. “Hopefully he won’t give me too much competition in the dress-and-shoes department.”
Turner couldn’t help but laugh. “You never know.”
As he smiled, he considered the chance that Heckler might be a woman.
Victoria Eden’s smile now reflected that she already knew the answer to her next question. “So no girlfriend?” She sat up primly awaiting his response.
He shook his head, thinking this would be funny if it wasn’t so dangerous. “No. I’m too complicated for relationships.”
She rubbed his arm affectionately and said, “Hmm. A man of great mystery.”
He pulled away slightly, but her touch stopped him.
“Like I said. I’m complicated.” His tone turned serious. “Listen, thank you for the tickets. Your performance was…” He took in a deep breath, and the vanilla and rose-laden scent of her perfume had a calming effect. He smiled, knowing words wouldn’t do her justice. “This has been one of the most enjoyable experiences I’ve had in a long, long time,” he said, trying to maintain a smile that would disarm her. “Really, though, I’m no good for you. You’ll just have to trust me on that one. Maybe in another life.”
She stared him down and moved her hand to his knee. The blackness of her hair was highlighted by the lights from above. Her green eyes burned a path directly to his soul and his heartbeat quickened.
She toyed with the moment and motioned to the bathroom with her free hand. “Now look, Mr. Whoever-you-are, I need to go to the ladies’ room.” She lowered her chin and fixed a determined stare. “Let’s start over when I get back. You can work on a new pickup line while I’m gone.” She paused briefly and pursed her lips. “That ‘I’m complicated’ routine will get you nowhere with me.” She wiped her brow with a melodramatic sigh and said, “I promise you, when I get back it’ll be like you’re talking to a whole new woman.”
Victoria Eden flashed him a wink before she turned and headed to the bathroom.
Turner found himself both bemused and strangely satisfied.
Chapter 102
There was no hiding the annoyed look on Pavel Kozlov’s face.
“What is it?” he snapped.
The world of classical music was the Russian’s escape. He had been in deep conversation with an old friend who had flown in from Japan for the performance.
“Sir, we must talk,” his head of security insisted in Russian.
“Pardon me,” Kozlov said in English to his friend. He looked over at his man and, changing back to Russian, said, “This had better be good.”
His head of security led him over to one of the red curtains on the north side of the stage. He pulled the curtain back slightly and urged Kozlov to take a look with a flick of his head. The Russian peered through the slit and saw Victoria Eden seated and speaking to someone. Kozlov pulled his head away with a disgusted look.
“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
His man took another look for himself and realized the man’s face couldn’t be seen.
“Pavel,” he said with grave concern, “she isn’t speaking to just anyone. That is The American. I’m certain of it.”
Kozlov’s brow furrowed in disbelief. He looked through the curtains once again and saw Eden motion toward the bathroom and stand up. Every man within eyeshot had his sights trained on her beautiful form as she glided across the floor. That is, every man except for Pavel Kozlov. His eyes tightened as the operative turned slightly, just enough for Kozlov to recognize the face. The Russian’s pulse quickened. There was no way he would let this man escape again. This time he knew exactly how to deal with the situation, should his elimination prove to be problematic.
“How many men do we have here?” Kozlov asked with urgency.
“Five. Most of them are at the compound to make sure there are no problems with the operation.”
“Tell the driver to bring my car around to the front. Give me two men. Use the others to deal with The American.” His obligation to the motherland now threatened his passion. He decided on a course of action. “No bloodshed in the theater. Do not make a mess of this event. Do you understand?”
His head of security nodded. “Da.”
Kozlov headed toward the women’s bathroom he had seen Victoria Eden enter. He casually stood in the waiting area closest to the door. Within a minute, two of his men approached. He cautioned them to remain at a distance with a wave of his hand. The Russian pulled out his handheld device and pretended to read emails.
The sound of her voice produced a wry smile.
“Pavel!” she said enthusiastically.
He looked up and feigned surprise. “Victoria! Splendid performance. Absolutely splendid.”
Her face beamed with excitement, which struck him as odd.
“I can’t thank you enough,” she said. “This was more than I could have ever dreamed.”
She gave him an appreciative hug. The gesture threw him off.
“I’m so pleased that you enjoyed yourself. It is clear by the reception that the admiration was mutual.” He searched her eyes for a flicker of deceit and saw nothing. He inclined his chin and asked, “Would you mind coming with me for a moment? I have another surprise for you.” His smile was inviting.
“You’ve done too much already. I couldn’t possibly—”
“Nonsense. Please. Humor me,” he insisted.