It wasn’t known for its fritzing lights or questionable air-conditioning. Elise finally gave up pushing her salad around the plate and picked up her napkin to fan herself. “In Lukinburg, we do not have this unseasonably hot weather.” Alexsandr Titov’s accent was as melodic as his brother’s had been. Noticing her distress, he signaled their waiter and had him top off her glass of ice water. “The sun is bright there. But between the sea and mountains, we have cool breezes. And the air is dry.” Perhaps even more handsome than his older brother had been, Alexsandr’s European manners and genteel decorum might have charmed her a couple of years ago. But while she nodded her thanks, she honestly wished George and Quinn would wrap up this meeting and let her step outside onto the Plaza’s wide sidewalks to search for an American breeze. Titov hadn’t told them anything useful. He’d apologized more than once for his brother’s actions, assured them that his new import/export company was completely legit, and that he was expanding into more than just ammunition manufacturing.
