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The other man stared at Paulo, but nothing was revealed. This was a game of poker and both men understood the rules. And both men knew how to play the game excessively well.

“Okay, then I suspect I’ve made a trip for nothing,” Andrei replied. “You have everything well under control. As usual.” But he glanced over at the desk where the paperclip chain taunted in a small bowl. “Or maybe not completely under control.”

"The buyer is an old man. Wealthy. Connected. Dying of cancer. Apparently, he's exhausted every treatment available, but he's determined to leave behind an heir. He's staying alive through sheer stubbornness and modern medicine for one reason."

Andrei shuddered with horror. “I’ve heard versions of those rumors. You probably already know that Keane is hoping to regain control of The Crooked Sons through a large cash ‘donation’ as soon as she’s shipped off to marry Leonid Krylov?”

“Yeah,” Paulo shuddered. “How the hell do you know about that bastard’s plans?”

Andrei sighed and took a sip of scotch. “I had a meeting with one of his competitors yesterday. We’re taking over four of Krylov’s factories. Krylov,” Andrei shook his head. “He’s obsessed with Madelaine Keane. Enough that he’s not paying attention to his businesses.”

“That’s odd. The man wasn’t a monk,” Paulo grumbled. “Why the hell is he so centered on Madelaine?”

“No one knows for sure,” Andrei replied.

Paulo sighed, running a hand over his face, remembering that he should shave. Madelaine’s skin was too soft and…would he ever be allowed to kiss her again?

Then something else struck him. “And why the hell are you asking me all of these questions? You never make a trip without knowing everything.” He narrowed his eyes on his friend. “You recognized Madelaine from our golf outing several weeks ago.”

Andrei grinned. “So I did,” he said with a chuckle. “Perhaps I just wanted to see how things were progressing.” He shrugged. “Also, I might have had a conversation with Tony and Sal recently.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps my presence here is more curiosity.” He glanced over at the desk again, but was grinning when he looked back at Paulo. “It seems as if everything is progressing exactly as Tony and Sal suspected.”

Paulo didn’t know how to respond to that comment, so he reverted to the easy stuff. Business. Within forty-five minutes, Paulo and Andrei had come up with a plan to take over several more of Krylov’s businesses.

Chapter 33

Madelaine eyed the beautiful woman carefully. “Sorry that you’re stuck with me,” she blurted out.

The woman looked up from her cell phone, startled. “Are you tedious?” she asked, straightening and turning to fully face Madelaine.

For her part, Madelaine felt…both intrigued and defensive. “No. I’m quite interesting, actually.”

The woman stepped closer, extending her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet anyone who is ‘quite interesting’,” she teased. “Personally, I’m a basket case of nerves and baggage.”

That last sentence was stunning. “Seriously?” Madelaine gasped. “In those shoes, you can be anything!”

The woman laughed, glancing down at her Jimmy Choo stilettoes. She glanced at the office door, then back at Madelaine. “They were a gift, actually.”

Madelaine looked at the doorway as well. “So are you and the other guy…?”

The woman blushed, but let out an inelegant snort that humanized her instantly. “Oh no!” she gasped and even waved her hand in that direction. “I work for And…uh…Mr. Petrov. He’s brilliant, actually.”

Nope. Madelaine wasn’t buying that. But she kept her thoughts to herself. “Well, how about a drink?”

Skye smiled. “That would be quite lovely. Thank you.”

They walked into the kitchen, which was immaculate, as always because Rosa never left the kitchen in any other state. "I can get you some wine, lemonade, tea, coffee..."

"Anything is fine," Skye replied politely as she perched on one of the stools.

Madelaine reached for a pitcher of lemonade, but paused halfway through. Her eyes drifted toward the doorway that led deeper into the house, where Paulo and Andrei had disappeared.

A small grin appeared.

"You know," she said slowly, returning the pitcher to the fridge, "the men are probably in there drinking scotch and plotting to take over the world. Why should we stick with the sweet stuff?"

For a moment, Skye looked surprised. Then amusement lit her face. "I agree. What are you suggesting?"

Madelaine closed the refrigerator door and beckoned her forward.