Sergei’s gaze narrowed on Roman then shifted to Kir. “The reporter?”

Fuck.

Not the particular detail he wanted his pakhan to home in on first. But then again, Sergei was as shrewd as they came. “Yes.” He glanced at Emerson. While they never talked of business in Sergei’s son’s presence, they’d been known to hint at issues a time or two when necessary. “She provided much coverage several months ago on a topic we were following.”

“He broke one of his precious rules for her,” Roman added.

Evette cocked an eyebrow. “You have rules?”

Kir scowled at Roman and shook his head. “No.”

“Yes, he does,” Roman said. “Never sees the same woman twice.”

“And how many times did you see this one?” Sergei asked.

The thickly padded dining room chair beneath his ass suddenly felt riddled with hot tacks. “Twice. But the second was business related.”

Roman sipped his coffee. “And the third, fourth and fifth?”

Sergei cocked his head, a silent demand for clarification.

Kir sighed. “She was at Bacchanal when we celebrated my birthday last week. She approached me after you, Evette and Emerson left, and we’ve resumed a business connection.”

Sergei barely waited a full beat. “A business connection?”

“Is that why you paid a visit to the mechanic working on her car this morning?” Roman said.

Bastard.

He should have known better than to run that particular errand with Roman along for the ride. “She’s less efficient doing research without a functioning vehicle. Ensuring the repairs happened expeditiously only made sense.”

“And you paid for those repairs as well.”

“The better we take care of people, the better they take care of us.”

Sergei’s attention drifted from Roman to Kir. “This business connection—are we referring to family endeavors? Or is this a side venture I’m not aware of?”

Evette giggled, the evil glee behind it the type reserved for women everywhere who’d just uncovered a deliciously decadent secret. “Oh Sergei, quit giving him grief. Anyone can see the guy’s got it bad. If he wants to lie to himself and call hitting on a girl business, then let him.” Her smile got bigger. “I personally like the idea of seein’ New Orleans’s most eligible player swimming toward the deep end.”

All of a sudden, her eyes widened, and she splayed her hands on the dining room table. “Oh my God!” Her gaze bounced from one man to another. “Do you guys realize what this might mean?”

The men each cast clueless looks from one to another.

“Gah!” Evette said to the ceiling. She righted her attention and threw her hands up in the air. “It means I won’t have to fly to Dallas to be with my posse, or fly one of them here to have another female at dinner anymore.” She zeroed in on Kir and leaned in. “When can I meet her?”

Silence stretched long and uncomfortable between the five of them.

The opportunity was right there.

So easy to take.

And yet closing the loop felt tantamount to self-inflicting a fire brand on his flesh.