I took up a position mirroring Branna, who stood next to but slightly behind Blane. Kade drew my arm over his shoulder while the dealer dealt the cards.

I knew nothing about poker other than what could be gleaned from watching television and movies, and it became rapidly apparent that whatever game they were playing was far beyond my level of understanding.

A man came by to exchange the large wads of cash Blane and Kade gave him for chips. My eyes widened at the stacks in front of them, and as they began to grow with each successive hand.

I immediately realized they must have passed hours playing poker when they were younger, because each of them seemed to almost instinctively know if the other one held a winning or losing hand. Soon the only question at the table was who would win—Blane or Kade. The pile of chips grew taller and wider, and I could sense the growing disgruntlement and suspicion from the other players.

My feet grew tired as time passed and I shifted my weight, trying to ease the ache in my lower back. Branna caught my eye and frowned. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at her. I guess being uncomfortable wasn’t sexy.

Two of the men at the table began conversing in Russian, it sounded like, and it didn’t take a genius to realize they were discussing Blane and Kade. To my shock, Kade opened his mouth and spoke as well. In Russian.

Of course I couldn’t understand a word he said, save one. Lazaroff.

The men eyed him, then one of them raised his hand and crooked a finger, signaling someone behind us. I turned just as whomever he must have called over stepped up behind us.

“If you’ll come with me,” the man said in heavily accented English.

Kade and Blane stood. “You’ll cash these in for us, right?” Kade asked the guy, gesturing to the pile of chips. I could tell by the sarcasm in his voice that we’d never see any of that money again and a little part of me sighed at the loss. Such a waste.

“The women stay,” the man said, gesturing for a security dude to block me and Branna from following. “Just you two.”

Alarm shot through me and I thought fast. “Back off,” I snapped at the security guy. “You may do your job just for fun, but I get paid to do mine and he’s my paycheck.”

“Find another john,” he said, dismissing me with a hard shove. I stumbled back and Branna caught me. I righted myself quickly.

Blane didn’t look like he was going to go, but Kade grabbed his arm, shooting Branna a look. A moment later, they were taken through a dark doorway and disappeared from view.

Branna grabbed my hand. “Let’s go,” she said, pulling me through the room.

Shocked, I stumbled after her and then managed to jerk back, stopping us. “What are you doing?” I hissed, trying to keep my voice down. “We can’t just leave them.”

“Kade was very clear on what I was to do if we got separated and that was to get you out of here,” she said. Branna didn’t look at me as she said this, her eyes scanning the room.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “And since when do you give a shit about what happens to me?”

Her green eyes met mine. “Since Kade is in love with you and you’re carrying his child.” Her gaze flitted over me. “I suppose we can’t help who we fall in love with,” she muttered.

“I’m not just going to leave when God knows what could be happening back there,” I said. “And as much as you care about Kade, I’m surprised you’d want to, no matter what he told you to do.”

Branna huffed a frustrated breath. “Fine,” she said. “But just remember that you’re the liability here. Frankly, I’d have been happier if we’d left you behind.”

That’s the thing about Branna—it wasn’t exactly a mystery where you stood with her.

“Follow me,” she said.

We made our way through the crowded room, keeping close to the walls. I could see where she was heading, a dark door near where we had entered. We were almost there when I was brought up short by a hard grip on my arm.

“Where are you going?” One of the security guys had hold of me, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he looked at me.

“I-I, um . . .” I stammered, completely at a loss as to what to say.

“Viktor told us he had a special client,” Branna suddenly piped up next to me. “We’re freshening up first.”

I held my breath as the guard seemed to consider that, then he nodded. “Hurry up then,” he growled, giving me a shove as he released me.

A moment later, we were through the door and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Who’s Viktor?” I asked.

Branna shrugged. “It was a guess. They’re Russians. Gotta be a Viktor here somewhere.”

I swallowed. Quick thinking, I supposed, but I shuddered at what might have happened if there hadn’t been a Viktor.

We were in a short hallway with two doors to the left.

“Which one?” I asked.

Branna didn’t say anything, but she hesitated before reaching for a handle and I figured she probably didn’t know any more than I did.

She pulled open the door, and my heart dropped to my feet.

There was an entire table of men playing cards, all guards by the look of them, and every one of them turned toward us.

“We were just looking for Viktor,” Branna said. “Sorry to interrupt.”

One of the men, bigger than the others, pushed himself back from the table and stood. “I’m Viktor,” he said. “Who are you?”

Oh shit.

Branna slammed the door shut without a word and I opened the second door without being asked. I could hear men shouting and the scrape of chairs as we burst through the second door into a long narrow hallway.

“Run!” Branna said, kicking off her shoes. I wasted no time in copying her, the Jimmy Choos another casualty of the evening as we both sprinted down the hall.

I heard the door slam against the wall as the men came through, yelling at us. We threw ourselves through a door at the other end, which happened to open to a stairwell.

“Up!” Branna said, which was the exact opposite direction I’d intended. I obeyed, though, hightailing it upstairs. We hit the top landing just as the stairwell filled with the sound of the men. Branna clapped her hand over my mouth and hers, stifling our breathing.

We waited as the men spoke tersely in Russian, then listened as they hurried down the stairs, disappearing into each floor. When I thought they were all gone, Branna carefully removed her hand from my mouth, then placed a finger over her lips. I nodded to show I understood.

Since we couldn’t go down, it looked like we were stuck with entering the top floor. The doorknob turned easily in my hand and I closed my eyes, sending up a quick prayer.

The hallway was empty, thank God. I let out a relieved breath.

“Now what?” I asked in a low voice.

“Now you come with me.”

I squeaked and spun around in alarm. Viktor stood there with a gun pointed at us, and now I saw the camera mounted in the ceiling, facing the stairwell door.

“Okay,” I managed, raising my hands in a gesture of surrender. Branna did the same.

Viktor made us walk in front of him into an opulent office. The carpet was the same thick and red oriental style, the furniture dark, heavy wood. A computer sat on a desk and the window overlooked the city lights.

“Over there,” he said.

I complied but Branna hesitated. He prodded her in the back with the gun. “Move.”

Branna suddenly turned and knocked the gun from his hand, then they were fighting. I watched in stunned amazement as Branna held her own, but it soon became obvious that she was tiring and unable to get the upper hand on the huge Russian.

I winced when he knocked her down, then Viktor had Branna by the throat and slammed her against the wall. She whimpered at the pain. He spoke in Russian and though I couldn’t understand what he was saying, I could tell by the way he said it that it wasn’t good.