What the actual fuck? I take a breath and try to keep my face and tone calm. “Yes.”
“So he’s forcing you.”
Irritation jolts through me. Indignant on Mal’s behalf, I speak more sharply than I should.
“No. He would never force himself on me, even if he wanted to. I know that because he did want to. As a matter of fact, I’m the one who made the first move in that direction.”
Pakhan makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. He doesn’t seem impressed.
“Women often lie to themselves in these situations. It helps them deal with the trauma if they feel like they’re not a victim. That they had a choice.”
He’s telling me Mal has taken advantage of me, but I’m not smart enough to know.
He’s telling me I’ve been raped, but I don’t realize it.
He’s telling me I’m a silly little girl.
Heat crawls up my neck. My heart starts pounding. I stare at him, wanting to yank his cigar out of his hand and snuff it out on his forehead. The room and everything in it disappears.
I don’t care if this is the most powerful man in Russia.
He’s got it coming, and I’m gonna let him have it.
Looking him straight in the eye, I say, “I don’t know what kind of women you’ve been involved with, but if this man had harmed me in any way, he’d be missing his dick. I would never sit here and defend him, not even if he threatened to kill me if I didn’t. He would’ve had to drag me kicking and screaming into this room by my hair.
“Yes, he kidnapped me. I know it’s not an ideal way to start a relationship, but it’ll be a great story when someone asks how we met. But he also got me emergency surgery that saved my life after my own bodyguard shot me, changed my bandages and made sure I took my medicine, spoon fed me like a baby with meals he cooked himself, took an elk head off a wall because I hated it, robbed an optometrist so I could see, killed the bear that was trying to eat me, taught me how to shoot in case I needed to defend myself, and a bunch of other stuff I can’t remember right now because I’m so mad.
“Mal is the most generous, competent, intelligent, self-disciplined, wonderful man I’ve ever met. He kills people for a living, but nobody’s perfect. And before you ask, yes, he told me how he came to be in your employ. He also told me he’s not going to stop working for you, even though his whole family is now dead and he doesn’t have anybody to protect anymore. So he’s also loyal to a fault. So please don’t insinuate that I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about when I say I have feelings for him, because I do. Because he’s worth it!”
In the wake of that speech, there’s total silence. With horror, I realize that I raised my voice to such a level that the two other tables of men heard me, too.
Everyone in the room is now staring at me.
I swallow and moisten my lips. I exhale a slow, shaky breath. In a more muted tone, I say, “I apologize if that was disrespectful. It wasn’t meant to be. I was just—”
“Defending Malek,” interrupts Pakhan.
His tone is soft. His eyes are hard. I can’t tell if he’s going to pat my hand or kill me.
I whisper, “Yes.”
He doesn’t do anything for a moment except look at me. The tension in the room is palpable, as if everyone is holding their breath, waiting to see what he’ll do.
Mal’s hand in mine is cool, dry, and steady.
Then Pakhan takes a puff of his cigar, blows out a cloud of smoke, and smiles.
Everyone in the room relaxes.
The men resume their conversations, the girls arrive with platters of food, and my heart remembers how to beat.
Chuckling, Pakhan says something in Russian to Mal.
“You should see her when she’s really angry,” he replies, and takes a sip of his whiskey.
Everything after that is a blur.
I know we eat, but I couldn’t say what. I know there’s conversation, but it’s in Russian so I don’t understand a thing. At one point, Mal says the name Kazimir in a questioning tone, to which Pakhan shakes his head. Then dinner’s over, and we’re standing to leave.
“Miss Keller,” says Pakhan, still sitting. He holds out a ringed hand.
When I look at it, uncertain if I’m supposed to kiss it or what, he says gently, “I don’t bite, child.”
I doubt that but grasp his hand anyway. Then I watch in shock as he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles.
“Thank you for an interesting evening. It was a pleasure to meet you.”