“I’d—” They both turned at the whine of the elevator.

The doors opened, and deep voices raised in some robust Ukrainian folk song poured out just ahead of the two men. They were both a little drunk, more than a little grubby, and the way their arms were wrapped around each other, it was impossible to say who was supporting whom. Sydney noticed the blood first. It was smeared on Mikhail’s white T-shirt, obviously from the cuts on his lip and over his eye.

“My God.”

The sound of her voice had Mikhail’s head whipping up like a wolf. His grin faded to a surly stare as he and his brother stumbled to a halt.

“What do you want?” The words were thickened with vodka and not at all welcoming.

“What happened to you?” She was already rushing toward them. “Was there an accident?”

“Hey, pretty lady.” Alex smiled charmingly though his left eye was puffy with bruises and nearly swollen shut. “We had a hell’va party. Should’ve been there. Right, bro?”

Mikhail responded by giving him a sluggish punch in the stomach. Sydney decided it was meant as affection as Mikhail then turned, locked his brother in a bear hug, kissed both his cheeks.

While Mikhail searched his pockets for keys, Sydney turned to Alex. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

“Did what?” He tried to wink at Keely and winced. “Oh, this?” He touched ginger fingers to his eye and grinned. “He’s always had a sneaky left.” He shot his brother a look of bleary admiration while Mikhail fought to fit what seemed like a very tiny key in an even tinier lock. “I got a couple good ones in under his guard. Wouldn’t have caught him if he hadn’t been drunk. Course I was drunk, too.” He weaved toward Keely’s door. “Hey, Keely, my beautiful gold-haired dream, got a raw steak?”

“No.” But having sympathy for the stupid, she took his arm. “Come on, champ, I’ll pour you into a cab.”

“Let’s go dancing,” he suggested as she guided him back to the elevator. “Like to dance?”

“I live for it.” She glanced over her shoulder as she shoved him into the elevator. “Good luck,” she told Sydney.

She was going to need it, Sydney decided, as she walked up behind Mikhail just as he managed to open his own door. He shoved it back, nearly caught her in the nose, but her reflexes were better than his at the moment.

“You’ve been fighting with your brother,” she accused.

“So?” He thought it was a shame, a damn shame, that the sight of her was sobering him up so quickly. “You would rather I fight with strangers?”