“Maybe if you had asked nicely, she would have told you.”

With a lopsided grin, Alex turned his bleary eyes on his brother. “Would you have asked nicely?”

“No, I would have broken his arms, maybe his legs, too. Then I would have asked.” With a sigh, Mikhail patted Alex’s shoulder. “But that is me. You were always more impulsive.”

“We could go find him.” Alex considered and, warming to the idea, leaned over to give Mikhail a sloppy hug. “We’ll go beat him up together. Like old times.”

“We’ll try something different.” Rising, Mikhail hauled Alex to his feet.

“Where we going?”

“I’m going to put you in a cold shower until your head’s clear.”

Alex staggered and linked an arm around his brother’s neck. “What for?”

“So you can go find your woman and grovel.”

Unsure of his footing, Alex stared at the tilting floor. “I don’t wanna grovel.”

“Yes, you do. It’s best to get used to it before you marry her. I have more experience in this.”

“Oh, yeah?” Enjoying the idea of his big brother crawling at Sydney’s feet, he grinned as Mikhail thrust him, fully clothed, into the shower. “Can I watch next time?”

“No.” With immense satisfaction, Mikhail turned the cold water on full and listened to his brother’s pained shout bounce viciously on the tiles. “This is a very good start,” he decided.

“You son of a bitch.” They were both laughing when Alex grabbed Mikhail in a headlock and dragged him under the spray.

He was nearly sober by the time he walked into Bess’s office, but he wasn’t laughing. It was hard to laugh when your throat was thick with nerves.

He was going to be reasonable, he promised himself. They would discuss the entire matter like civilized adults. And if she didn’t give him the right answers, he’d strangle her. He could always arrest himself afterward.

But he saw only Lori sitting at the keyboard, frantically typing. “I’ll have the damn changes by six,” she called out. Her brow was furrowed in concentration as she glanced up. Her eyes frosted over.

“What the hell do you want?”

“I need to see Bess.”

“You’re out of luck.” Nobody hurt her friend and got away with it. Nobody. “She’s not here.”

“Where?”

She offered an anatomically impossible suggestion, offered it so coolly he nearly smiled. But it wasn’t enough. She leapt up and slammed the door shut. Locked it. “Sit down, buster, I’ve got an earful for you.”

“Tell me where she is.”

“When hell freezes over. Do you know what you did to her?” She took the flat of her hand to push him back. “Why didn’t you just cut out her heart and slice it into little pieces while you were at it?”

“What I did?” He jammed his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t shove her back. “I’m the one who walked in and found her snuggled up to that pretty-faced playwright.”

“You don’t know what you found.”