Prince Voronov's Virgin. Lynn Raye Harris
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mouth drawing his attention as her teeth scraped her bottom lip worriedly.
Alexei tried very hard to ignore the arrow of arousal that shot straight to his groin. She’d been uncertain earlier, but she’d warmed up to their kiss, coming alive beneath his touch. It had been everything he could do to push her away when all he’d wanted was to sample the rest of her. To see if the fire in that kiss would translate to the bedroom.
Odd, when she wasn’t his usual type of woman. He liked glamorous women, effortlessly feminine women who wore their confidence like a second skin. Paige was neither glamorous nor confident, though she was definitely feminine. Authentic was the word that came to mind—though of course that couldn’t be the case when she was working for Chad Russell. She was simply a very good actress.
“It is safer to remain here,” he said. “In case those men are looking for you.”
She blinked. “How could that be? They don’t know me—”
“Your phone.”
Her eyes widened. “I hadn’t thought of that. I still don’t know why they’d care.” She shook her head suddenly. “But they wouldn’t. And I need to find my sister, so I should go back—”
“I will find your sister, I promise.” He said it impatiently, since she couldn’t really want to leave yet, but she didn’t seem to notice.
She blinked at him, her eyes adorably owlish behind her glasses. “Do you really think you can find her?”
He nodded. “You are in Russia, maya krasavitsa, and I am Russian. I guarantee I will find her before your Chad could do so.”
Real hope kindled in the depths of those eyes. It made him wonder, for an instant, if he was wrong about her motives for being here.
That is exactly what you are supposed to think.
He shoved the thought aside, but not before he pictured another set of eyes gazing at him with hope. Katerina, I’m sorry…
A cold hand gripped his, pulling him back to the present. He didn’t mind the cold. It was the touch of her skin that surprised him. The jolt must have surprised her as well, because she quickly pulled away.
“Thank you, Alexei,” she said in that soft, breathy voice that reminded him of film stars of the 1940s. “You have been very kind. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”
If the whole scenario hadn’t been a setup, then he knew exactly what could have happened—and it wasn’t pretty.
“You must never go out alone at night in a strange city where you do not speak the language or understand the culture.” He said it rather harshly, he thought, but she merely nodded.
“You’re right, of course.” She sank back against the cushions and closed her eyes. When she didn’t open them again, he grew concerned. A moment later, her jaw dropped open and a soft snore escaped.
Alexei stood there for a moment in disbelief. Tossing back the rest of his scotch, he decided to turn the lights down and leave her where she was. If she were here to spy, she’d be up in no time. All he had to do was wait and see.
Paige was warm and cozy. Something soft nestled against her cheek as she stirred. She smiled, sighing as she burrowed deeper beneath the cover. The hotel bed was comfortable, but it felt different tonight than it had the night before. Firmer. And why was she still wearing her clothes?
A tendril of unease twisted through her. Something wasn’t right. Her eyes popped open—a second later, she bolted upright. Her gaze darted around the room, but nothing was familiar.
Where was she?
Her surroundings were luxurious—the couch she lay on was covered in silk brocade, oil paintings adorned the walls and the cover she’d been snuggling into was made out of some kind of fur.
A fire burned softly in the grate, the only sound in the room. Paige stood, wrapping the blanket around her though she was still fully clothed, and turned in a circle. She didn’t have a watch, and she’d lost her cell phone in the square. She had no idea what time it was, or whether Emma had been found.
How had she managed to fall asleep when she was so worried?
“Alexei?”
She started walking toward a hallway directly behind her. It might be late, but she couldn’t simply sit on the couch and wait until morning. She had to know if Alexei had found Emma.
The thought of her enigmatic rescuer sent a wave of a different kind of heat rolling over her. She’d been wary when he’d first told her she needed to go with him, but once they arrived at his apartment, she’d realized he had money. This apartment was in one of the old Baroque buildings that had withstood time, several wars and a revolution. It was also furnished with expensive paintings, antiques and woven rugs.
And he knew Chad, though she still didn’t know how he did, come to think of it.
But she’d relaxed a little then. Surely he did not need to lure poor American women back to his apartment for evil purposes. No doubt women fell all over a man who looked like he did. Add in the money, and you had a sure recipe for success.
No, Alexei did not need to bring her here in order to have his wicked way with her. He’d kissed her because it was necessary, not because he was attracted to her.
Paige lifted her chin. Nor was she attracted to him. He was a handsome man, no doubt, but he wasn’t Chad. Chad was tall, blond, Texan, bigger than life. Everything she’d ever dreamed about when she was a girl growing up in tiny Atkinsville, Texas.
She knew that Chad taking her to lunch—and picking her to accompany him on this trip—might not mean anything, but a girl could dream. Though he usually dated underwear models, actresses and beauty queens, he wasn’t seeing anyone just now. She knew because she was the one who usually got the task of ordering the flowers and making the dinner reservations. There had been none of those for over a month now.
Not that it meant anything, she reminded herself, when he’d been working nonstop on this Russian deal.
A lamp burned in one of the rooms off the hallway. Paige pushed the door all the way open. “Alexei?”
There was no answer, but she stepped inside to be sure he wasn’t there anyway. The room was an office, with floor to ceiling bookcases, a desk and filing cabinets. A computer stood on the desk, and a printer sat idle nearby. There was an Italian leather couch on one wall, and a couple of chairs facing it.
But no one was inside. She turned to leave, biting off a scream as a man stepped through the door.
“Looking for something?”
Paige put a hand to her racing heart. “You scared me.”
“Apparently,” he said, though there was no amusement in his voice.
“I was looking for you.”
One dark eyebrow arched. “Really? Why?”
Paige swallowed. He stood before her in jeans and an unbuttoned white shirt, as if he’d hurriedly pulled it on. His feet were bare, and his hair was mussed. She resolutely focused on his face instead of the naked skin of his chest and abdomen. Or the shadowed indentations of muscle and sinew.
“I’m sorry if I woke you. But I have no idea what time it is. If Emma returned to our room by now, she’ll be worried. I really should go…” Her voice tapered off as she realized she was babbling.
“Your sister is not in your room.”
Paige felt her heart skip a painful beat. She took a step toward him, thought better of it and clutched the blanket tighter instead. “How do you know? Do you know where she is?”
“Da. She is safe, Paige. You have nothing to worry about.”
Relief threatened to buckle her knees.