CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Toni had just rolled onto her back, her entire body taking a long, luxurious stretch when there was a knock at Ricky’s door and it opened. Without warning.

She yelped and pulled herself into a ball. Ricky immediately stretched his body over hers, blocking her from Vic Barinov’s sight.

“Oh. Sorry. Was I interrupting?”

“Yes!” Ricky yelped. “You were.”

“Sorry. But you guys do have to get ready if we’re going to get to your meeting with the—”

“Meeting?” Toni scoffed.

Now, after a night of free-running through the beautiful Siberian wilderness and getting wonderfully tossed around the bedroom by Ricky Lee Reed, Toni’s sense of panic was no longer clouding her mind. Instead, she just felt annoyance at the bears wasting her damn time.

“They’re not going to meet with me. They have no intention of negotiating with me. We might as well just head the hell home rather than waste another damn day on this bullshit.”

Barinov shrugged. “Of course. I’ll get the car ready and let the hotel know we’re checking out.”

Ricky grabbed the sheet and pulled it up so it covered Toni all the way to her neck. Then he sat up, his body still blocking her, and said, “Wait.”

His hand on the doorknob, Barinov looked back at them.

“Do you know what’s going on with these bears?” he asked.

Toni didn’t know why Ricky was asking Barinov about anything. Other than ensure they arrived on time and that Toni was safe, he didn’t seem too involved in any of this drama.

“You know”—Barinov began—“I really shouldn’t get involved.”

See?

Ricky reached down and grabbed his jeans from the floor. He pulled out his cell phone and speed-dialed a number. He put on the speaker and for a few seconds they sat around silently listening to the phone ring.

“Yep?” a voice answered from the other end, and Barinov immediately rolled his eyes, momentarily reminding her of Kyle after he’d been caught tormenting Oriana about her non-existent weight problem.

“Hey, Dee,” Ricky said into the phone. “How ya doin’?”

“Fine.” There was a pause, then Dee asked, “You back in New York?”

“Nope. These Russian bears are being real difficult.”

“Mhmm. Never liked them Russian bears.”

“We haven’t mentioned you,” Ricky told her. “I don’t think they would have fond memories of you or your daddy.”

“Heh.”

“Anyway,” Ricky went on, “I’m not sure what to do. Any suggestions?”

“Isn’t Barinov there?”

Ricky looked up at the hybrid. “Yeah. He’s standingright here. But he said he shouldn’t get involved.”

There was a long sigh from the other end of that phone. “Take me off speaker,” Dee ordered, “and hand Barinov the damn phone.”

Ricky did just that and after baring a rather long fang, Barinov put the phone to his ear. “Hey, Dee—Well . . . yeah, I . . . no need to get nasty, Smith. Yeah. Fine. Whatever.” Barinov disconnected the call and tossed the phone back to Ricky.

“You’re a prick,” the hybrid snarled.

“I’m a Reed. We were never taught to play nice with others.”

Barinov stepped away from the door and looked over Ricky’s shoulder to focus on Toni. “You were negotiating with the bears as soon as you stepped out of the car the first day,” he abruptly told her.

Startled by that response, Toni sat a little taller, holding the sheet to her chest. “Wait a minute . . . what?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Did I look like I knew?”

“It was hard to tell with the whole separation anxiety thing.” Then Barinov focused on Ricky and smirked.

“Oh, my God,” Ricky muttered, placing his phone on the end table. “He’s never going to let that go.”

“Let me ask you”—Barinov stepped closer to the bed—“did you research negotiation techniques before you came here, Toni?”

“Of course.”

“Did you research negotiating with Russians?”

“No. But I’ve negotiated with Russians before.”

“About your family?”

“Yes.”

“The powerful music family that everyone kind of loves?”

“As long as you don’t know ’em personally,” Ricky tossed in.

Toni shoved Ricky’s shoulder and answered Barinov at the same time, “Yes.”

“Then that is completely different from negotiating a business deal about hockey.”

“Why is that different?”

“Your family is a bunch of American artists that the Russians—who love music like they love air—are going to treat differently during negotiations. Especially if they’re dealing with a family member. But hockey is a much-beloved sport and a very important Russian business. Especially to the Siberian bears.”

“So the delay . . . that’s all a—”

“Negotiation tactic.” Barinov shrugged. “I really thought you knew.”

“No. That’s what was making me crazy. I didn’t understand why they weren’t meeting with me. When I’ve helped negotiate deals for my brother and sister, I was always treated wonderfully. I guess I expected the same thing this time.”