After Mikhail had cleaned out Jerry and taken ownership of the painting, he'd laughingly asked Jerry to a rematch and offered to spot him the same amount of cash he'd just lost from the house bank. It hadn't taken Yuri long to realize that Mikhail was purposely allowing Jerry to win back everything but the painting. When Jerry had left ten minutes earlier, he'd done it with a smile on his face.

"I will admit to feeling guilty about playing Jerry that way," Yuri confessed as he sipped his drink.

"Don't," Tari interjected. "Do you realize what would happen to him if that cartel found out he had the painting? Getting fleeced by us? That was a favor."

Sadly, Tari was probably right.

"I don't understand it." Archer stood in front of the painting in question and stared upon it. "What the hell am I looking at here?"

Niels snorted and downed the last of his beer. He slapped his best friend on the back. "Come on. Let's get back to the hotel. Maybe Juliette is still hanging around our suite."

Archer perked right up and glanced at his watch. "It's a bit late."

"It's never too late for what I have in mind."

Yuri tried not to imagine what shenanigans those two were about to get into this late at night. Instead, he shook their hands, thanked them profusely and promised a favor in return. Mikhail and Tari finished their drinks a few minutes after Niels and Archer departed.

"We should go," Mikhail said. "I'm sure your girlfriend misses you."

Yuri thought of Lena and hoped she was sound asleep. Everything would be all right now.

"Listen," Mikhail said and slipped arm around his shoulders. At nearly six inches over six feet, Mikhail was quite a bit taller than Yuri and had to lean down to speak softly. Tari spoke excellent Russian so Mikhail kept his voice low. "I asked Jerry where he acquired the painting. He told me he got it from a woman-a Russian woman."

Yuri remembered Tommy Cruz telling him that he'd gotten a call from a woman about the painting. He'd neglected to mention her nationality. "A Russian? You're sure?"

Mikhail nodded. "A bit strange, yes?"

"Yes."

As Yuri waved goodbye to Mikhail and Tari, he couldn't stop thinking about this new bit of information. The woman who had called Tommy asked for that painting specifically. How would she have known the painting was in Lena's father's warehouse if she hadn't known the person who stole it or the person who originally fenced it? The idea of a Russian connection to this cartel mess started to feel...personal.

Turning back to the painting he'd just purchased from Mikhail, Yuri stared at it. The piece was a thing of strange beauty. It was the sort of painting he would have loved to have on his walls but tonight it inspired only distaste. He never wanted to see this painting again.

"Boss?" Derek stood near the doorway looking very irritated. He gestured with a flick of his fingers and Kelly stepped into the room looking guilty as hell.

Yuri's chest tightened. "What is it?"

"Something happened while you were playing poker. Apparently, Kelly decided not to tell me until the game was over. He says Lena asked him not to get you involved but I reminded him that he works for you, not her."

Yuri didn't like stepping on toes and chose not to set Derek straight in front of his subordinate, but later, in private, he would remind his head bodyguard that the moment Lena walked in his front door they began working for her.

Sighing, Yuri asked, "What happened, Kelly?"

"She called me a little before midnight and sounded scared. I ran up to the master suite and found her looking really shaken. Someone had been in the suite while she was on the balcony. They left an envelope with her name on it."

"WHAT?" Stomach seized with panic, he fought the urge to run to her. "Is she all right? Who was it? Are they still on the boat?"

Derek shot Kelly an annoyed frown. "The jarhead says no one without clearance was in the private section."

Kelly looked like he wanted to gut-punch Derek for the jarhead remark but he kept it professional. "Actually that's not what I said. I said that there were two keycards used during the time in question. Johnny Burkhart was up there getting fitted for a tux and talking about his sister."

Yuri nodded. "Johnny's sister and Lena are good friends. That's why he was asked to serve our rooms."

"There's no suspicion he was involved. At the time your suite door was being opened from the outside, Johnny was swiping his card to get into the staff quarters. He was seen coming in the main door by seven other guys."

"So who came into my room?"

Kelly glanced at Derek. "It was his card that opened the door."

"Which is impossible," Derek snapped back, "because I've been here all night."

Yuri's mind raced as he tried to recall Derek's location during the night. "He's right. He wasn't out of my sight once."

Kelly shrugged. "So someone stole his card or made a copy. Either way someone was in that room-and we don't know who it was."

The realization that he couldn't keep Lena safe made him sick. "Who is with her now?"

"Vasya," Kelly said. "She's been asleep for the last hour or so. He's got the door propped open so he can watch her."

"Get the painting," he ordered and headed for the door. "It's not leaving my sight until we hand it over."

"When do we leave?" Derek asked.

"Soon," he said, no longer certain he could trust anyone on this ship. Kelly seemed like a straight-shooter and Vasya had Nikolai vouching for him. He'd never once doubted Derek or Jake or any of the crew on the ship but maybe he'd been too trusting. His gut soured at the realization that he really didn't know any of these people he employed.

He found that great big bull of a guard watching over his Lena. Vasya rose from the chair he'd placed in the open doorway. "Boss."

Yuri nodded at him before entering the suite. The television screen cast an eerie glow around the room. Lena was rolled on her side, facing away from him. She slept on top of the covers and looked uncomfortable. Already familiar with her sleeping habits, he reached down to lift her up as Kelly arrived with the painting. Yuri gestured to the far side of the room. "There."

"Yes, sir."

After Vasya set up the easel, Kelly carefully propped the painting in place. The two guards left the suite and shut the door behind them. Yuri finished moving Lena under the covers. She stirred but he quieted her with a tender kiss and the soft caress of his hands upon her back.

As he stood, his hand brushed something jutting out from under her pillow. He felt the sharp edge of an envelope and tugged it free. Unable to read in the dim light of the television, he carried the envelope into the bathroom, shut the door and flicked on the light.

The sight of Lena's name in Cyrillic surprised him. He shook the contents onto the counter. His gaze flicked across the angry looking letter and the black and white photo. Almost immediately, his stomach lurched painfully. That warehouse...

The old, painful, disgusting memories rose to the surface of his mind along with bile from his stomach. He barely made it to the toilet before retching. Everything about that night-the smells, the sounds, the sensations-coursed through him as fresh as if they were happening right now. He retched violently, his stomach seizing with pain as the long-buried memory of the thing he'd discovered, of the thing he'd done, overwhelmed him.

Crawling to the counter, Yuri grabbed the note and photo. He flopped down on his ass and stared at them. How?

He read the note twice before the words finally started to make sense. Someone knew. Someone knew every sordid detail of what he'd done. Of what he'd done to save Nikolai.

Hands shaking, he fished his phone out of his pocket and dialed Nikolai.

Always business, Nikolai answered with the all-important question. "Did you get the painting?"

Yuri cleared his throat. "Yes. It's safe."

"I'll make the arrangements. Do you want to go tomorrow or should I-"

"Someone knows," he interrupted.

"Knows what? About you and the cartel?"

"Someone knows about Pasha." He spoke the name that hadn't left his lips in more than twenty-five years.

Dead silence stretched on the other end of the line. Yuri hated himself for bringing up the nightmare that Nikolai had survived.

"Someone left an envelope addressed to Lena on our bed. It held a note and a photograph-of the warehouse," he added reluctantly. "The writer put details in the letter, details only someone who was there that night would know."

"Are they threatening to turn us over to the authorities?" Nikolai's voice had taken on a gruff tone.

"No, the writer says we'll get a different kind of justice." He thought of the shooting Lena had barely survived. "This is why someone tried to shoot Lena. They wanted to hurt me."

"No jury would ever convict us for what happened that night. That man was a monster. The things he did to-" Nikolai's voice abruptly cut out. "I'm not a little boy anymore and a letter isn't going to scare me."

"It's not just the letter! Someone tried to kill Lena. Someone that I trust enough to be on this ship came into the room tonight. Do you understand how it feels to be unable to protect the woman I love?"

"Yes."

Yuri realized that was the closest Nikolai had ever come to confirming his feelings toward Vivian. Blowing out a noisy breath, he asked, "What the fuck do we do?"

"You get that painting to Mexico and make the trade for Lena's father. Then we regroup in Houston and figure out who is after us. I'll touch base with my contacts back home. This has to be someone close to that monster. Only a friend or relative would hold a damn grudge this long."

"That makes sense."

"I'll call you later with the details about the exchange." Nikolai hesitated. "Did Lena read the letter?"

"She might have tried but her Russian is terrible. I doubt she showed it to anyone else." He understood Nikolai's desire for privacy. "I'll ask her in the morning."

"I'll talk to you soon."

Yuri placed his phone on the counter and shoved up off the floor. Desperate for a shower and to feel clean again, he stripped and turned on the hot water. He stood under the spray for at least ten minutes before giving himself a mental shake. Lathered up, he scrubbed his skin until it was pink and raw. The memory of all the blood that night still haunted him. That had been one hell of a thing for a twelve-year-old to process.

As he dried off and brushed his teeth, his thoughts turned to Nikolai. God, how he loathed the idea of his best friend having to relive that experience. With palms flat on the marble countertop, Yuri stared at his reflection in the foggy mirror. What the hell do I tell Lena?

She was going to be curious about that letter and the picture. If he lied to her, she would know-but he couldn't tell her everything. Not yet. How much did he dare reveal?

I came awake to the comforting sensation of Yuri's strong arms wrapped around me. Content to feel his big, warm naked body pressed against mine, I remained perfectly still and enjoyed the silence of morning. The privacy shades had been lowered on the windows but pale rays of sunlight still streamed into the room. It was going to be a beautiful day.

My fuzzy brain finally cleared enough for me to remember that weird letter and Vivian's cryptic, worried advice. Even though there were a million questions I wanted to ask Yuri, I decided to let him sleep in. He'd been running himself ragged lately. Everything I wanted to know could wait. I had a bad feeling the discussion that letter would entail wasn't going to be one I would enjoy.

Carefully, I slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom. I showered and brushed my teeth but didn't put on my makeup or fix my hair. After working in some moisturizer, I threaded my arms through the sleeves of the silky dressing gown I'd brought with me and returned to the bedroom. The thought of crawling back into bed with Yuri tempted me.

Crossing the room, I became aware of something on the far side of the room that had been hidden in the shadows when I'd first awakened. I damn near tripped over my own feet when I realized I was looking at the painting.

I hurried across the room and gazed upon the piece of fine art. It was a strange, haunting scene depicted on the canvas. Definitely not the kind of thing I'd want hanging in my house but clearly drug lords had different tastes.

Excitement bubbled within me like fizzy champagne. He'd done it! Yuri had done it!

"As lovely as that painting is, I'd rather stare at you without that robe."

Turning toward the bed, I grinned at Yuri and tugged on the silken belt keeping it closed. The fabric pooled around my feet. Overcome with joy, I ran across the room and leapt onto the bed. Yuri laughed and pulled me onto his naked body until I straddled his hips.

Cupping his handsome face, I whispered, "You big, sexy, wonderful Russian! How will I ever repay you?"

Tangling his fingers in my damp hair, Yuri captured my mouth in a passionate kiss. "I have a few ideas."

His stubble rasped my face as he nuzzled me in between sensually erotic kisses. He ran his hands over my bare skin like a sculptor admiring his work. Palming my breast, he tweaked my nipple and pressed his face against the crook of my neck. "You're so damn beautiful, Yelena. Every time I touch you I find something new that I love."

I looped my arms around his strong, muscled shoulders. "I love you, Yuri."

"I love you, Kitten."

His nickname earned a smile from me. I gasped as he started to nibble my throat and play with my nipples. My sensitive flesh puckered to tight peaks that Yuri tormented with his tongue and fingers. Every tug of his mouth around my breast sent erotic shivers straight to my clit. The pink pearl pulsed to life. My pussy started to ache with need.

Yuri's hard cock rubbed against my inner thigh. When I shifted on his lap, the thick, blunt tip bumped my clit. I hissed at the delicious sensation and rubbed against his shaft, stimulating myself on his steely length.

Grasping my bottom with both hands, Yuri aligned our bodies and breached my slick, wet sheath with just the crown of his cock. Our gazes held as he rocked into me a little deeper before pulling back. We both knew what was different this time.

Shaking with arousal and excitement, I whispered, "I've never-"

"I'll stop. Tell me to stop."

His husky voice did crazy things to me. I didn't want him to stop. I wanted to share this experience with Yuri. Biting my lower lip, I sank down on his hard, thick cock, taking every last inch of him into my pussy. We both moaned and breathed a little faster as the heady experience of making love without a latex barrier between our bodies gripped us.

"You feel so good." Yuri's shaky breaths buffeted my cheek. "So damn hot and wet." He fell back on the bed and grasped my hips. "Ride me, Yelena."

With my hands on his chest, I swiveled my hips until I found the perfect rhythm. He watched me with such awe. I felt so incredibly beautiful and desired. Yuri's hand swept up and down my front before settling on the spot where my neck and shoulder curved together. He thrust up into me and I cried out at the exquisite delight. "Ah!"

Back and forth, I rocked my hips. This position felt so damn good. My clitoris remained in constant contact with him. Every thrusting motion he made left me gasping. "Oh. Oh."

His thumb brushed my mouth. "Yes."

My pace hastened. The first curls of pleasure unfurled in my core. That blissful knot of shuddery vibrations grew and grew. My pussy clenched Yuri's cock tighter and tighter. He urged me on and thrust into me harder and faster until I hovered on the edge. Closing my eyes, I tried to draw out those wonderful flutters as long as possible but one more thrust broke my control.

"Yuri!" I clawed at his chest and gyrated wildly atop him, desperate to wring ever last ounce of pleasure from that orgasm. When I fell forward against him, Yuri gathered me close and flipped our positions. He grasped my legs and dragged them up higher until my knees rested against those broad shoulders of his.

"Unnnhhh." I let loose a guttural groan as his cock slid deeper. Clinging to his rippling arms, I gazed into his hazel eyes while he started to chase his own pleasure. I didn't think he'd ever looked sexier or more handsome to me than in that moment. My heart threatened to burst in my chest as I realized how much I loved this man.

As if having the same moment of clarity, Yuri dipped his head until our breaths mingled. He pounded into me now, his cock gliding in and out of me faster and harder. Every plunging thrust made me grip him tighter. I watched his face with fascination as he climbed closer and closer to his climax.

"I love you, Lena." He slammed into me with enough force that I slid up the bed. His cock swelled inside me as he shuddered in my arms and filled me with his blazing hot seed. "I fucking love you so much."

I caressed his face as he shuddered again. "I love you, Yuri. Always."