Soraya took several steps toward him, peering into the gloom. “He’s not your pool boy,” Arkadin said. “That’s clear enough.” She said nothing, knowing that he had begun to bait her in order to gain information. This, in itself, was a hopeful sign, indicating that Antonio hadn’t talked, despite the beating he’d received. Deciding that outrage was her best course, she turned on Arkadin. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” When Arkadin smiled it was like a wolf appearing through pine trees. “I like to know who my prospective partners are.” His smile lengthened, like knives being unsheathed. “Especially ones that fall into my lap so conveniently.” “Partners?” She laughed harshly. “You must be fucking dreaming, my Russian friend. I wouldn’t partner with you for—” He grabbed her then, pressing his lips against hers, but she was ready for him.
