Prince Voronov's Virgin

He did not believe in coincidences. Hard work and sacrifice had gotten him where he was today, not belief in mystical concurrences. If he’d left his life up to luck and circumstance, he’d probably be lying in a crypt with the rest of his family.

She accepted the glass without looking and took a big drink. Then she coughed. “That’s horrible!”

Alexei sipped his own scotch, enjoying the notes of caramel and oak as it slid down his throat. The fifty-year-old single malt was perfect. And so was her performance. She definitely knew how to play the innocent.

His mouth twisted in disdain.

Like his father before him, Chad Russell had always believed he could ruin Voronov Exploration if he threw enough money at the right people. He hadn’t yet succeeded, nor would he.

Alexei would die before he would lose the next round in their epic battle. Whoever could convince Pyotr Valishnikov to sell his Baltic and Siberian holdings first would reap a huge reward—and effectively leave the other company in the metaphorical dust. This deal was the culmination of everything Alexei had ever worked for. With the stroke of a pen, Valishnikov could give him the power to finally crush Russell Tech once and for all.

Then Katerina would be avenged. It was all that mattered.

Alexei studied the woman on his couch.

Was she here to dig up information about his plans? If so, she would be sorely disappointed. But if she was supposed to distract him enough to let down his guard, she wasn’t doing the best job of it. She was beautiful, though in an unstudied way. He’d known many beautiful women over the years, but this one seemed quite unaware of her beauty. She hadn’t once tried to fix her hair or asked to see a mirror so she could primp and preen. Her makeup was so understated as to be practically nonexistent.

And she seemed to be in shock, which was why he’d given her the scotch.

As he watched, she reached into one of the pockets of her very unstylish coat and pulled out a pair of glasses. Then she glanced up at him and shrugged as she put them on.

“I can see pretty well without them, but I get headaches if I go too long.” She dropped her gaze to the glass in her hand. “They fogged up when I went outside and I just never put them back on.”

“What were you doing in Red Square alone?”

She looked up at him again, her dark eyes shiny with unshed tears. Once more, he got that little kick in the gut he’d felt earlier when he’d breathed in her scent. His sister’d had dark eyes like those. Dark, haunting eyes that he couldn’t escape, no matter how successful he became or how much he tried to put the past behind him.

“I don’t even know your name,” she said numbly.

“Alexei,” he replied. He did not doubt that she knew exactly who he was. Perhaps he should have taken her up on her offer to return her to her hotel. He hadn’t believed it was genuine at the time, nor did he now. But what would she have done if he’d said yes? That would have caused a bit of consternation, he was certain. When he’d first told her she needed to come with him, before he’d known who she was, he’d had every intention of driving her back to her hotel once he’d reached his apartment.

Afterward, it had seemed unnecessary—not to mention counterintuitive to her plan. He wondered why she’d even told him she worked for Chad Russell in the first place.

“Alexei,” she repeated.

“Da. Now tell me about your sister.”

He would play her game. For now.

Panic threaded into those smoky eyes. She took another swig of scotch, coughed. If she was acting, she was doing a fine job of it.

“Emma’s twenty-one, as of yesterday. She’s nothing like me. She’s tall and blonde, and she likes to have fun and go shopping. She went on a guided tour this afternoon while I worked to prepare Chad’s papers for his meeting tomorrow. I ate dinner in Chad’s suite while we worked, and stayed with him until about eight-thirty. I had a text from Emma around eight, telling me she would be in the hotel bar for a while. She wasn’t in our room when I got back, but I didn’t think anything of it until she didn’t return by eleven. I tried calling her, but she never answered.”

The twinge of feeling he got when he thought of this woman with Russell surprised him. Because he doubted very much that she’d simply been working with her boss all that time. A beautiful woman like her with a man like Russell? He’d lay odds they’d been doing far more than going over paperwork.

She plunked the tumbler on the table and stood. But she must have gotten up too quickly because the color drained from her face and she sank back down again. Then she put a hand to her head.

“I don’t usually drink alcohol,” she said more to herself than to him. She looked up again, her eyes slightly glazed. How could anyone get drunk on two gulps of scotch? “I have to find her,” she whispered.

“I will find her for you,” Alexei said smoothly. Let her believe her plan was working. “You looked for her in this bar?”

She clasped both hands in her lap, her knuckles whitening. “Yes. I asked if anyone had seen her, but they claimed not to remember.”

“So you decided to wander alone through Red Square at midnight?”

Her eyes were huge and liquid. “It was stupid, I know. But I thought she couldn’t have gone far, thought maybe she was outside. And then someone said there was another bar, so I went there. Each place I went was farther than the last until I found myself in the square and those men started bothering me.”

“Where is your cell phone?”

She patted her coat, came up empty. “I think I dropped it when they grabbed me.”

Alexei took his phone from his jacket and handed it to her. “Try to call your sister.”

She punched in a few numbers. He could hear the error message on the other end as she handed the phone back, her expression a mixture of frustration and fear. “I don’t know how to dial it from a foreign number.”

“Tell me the number.” He punched it in while she recited it, adding the proper codes, then handed the phone back when it began to ring. Her face screwed up while she concentrated, as if she were willing her sister—assuming there really was a sister—to answer.

It didn’t work, however, because she gave the phone back to him a moment later, her expression crumpling.

Alexei dialed another number. After issuing instructions to his head of personal security, he hung up.

“Why don’t you give me your coat? I will turn on the fire to warm you.”

“I really should be going,” she said, her pretty bow 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.

Alexei reached for her as she swayed, caught her in a strong grip. Then he ushered her to the couch and sat her down. “You are quite good at this,” he murmured.

Paige blinked up at him. “I’m sorry?”

He turned away and went over to a cabinet close by, returned with a glass and thrust it toward her.

Paige held up her hand as her stomach rebelled. “Not again—”

“It is water.”

She took the glass and drank, thankful because her mouth was suddenly so dry. Her head felt light, and her heart thundered in her chest. She’d promised Mama that she’d take good care of Emma. Her sister had only been thirteen when their mother died, and Paige had done her best. If Emma was a bit spoiled, a bit irresponsible, it was Paige’s fault for indulging her.

She’d been trying to make up for the lack of parents, but she hadn’t done the best job. Tonight, she thought she’d failed utterly. To know that Emma was safe filled her with a profound sense of relief.

“Where is she?”

“She is with Chad Russell, as you very well know.”

“Oh thank God,” Paige breathed. Though what made him think she knew where Emma was?

Before she could ask, Alexei’s cool silver gaze pierced her. “Why are you here?”

Paige blinked. “I was looking for you—”

“No, I mean why are you here, in my home?”

It took her a moment to formulate an answer. “Because you told me I had to come with you.”

“Yes, but why did you do so? What did you hope to find? Is Russell so desperate he would send a secretary to spy on me?”

Confusion crashed through her. And a thread of simmering anger.

“Why would I want to spy on you? I don’t even know you!” She set the glass aside and stood, tilting her chin up. It was simply a show of bravado since she was shaking inside her skin. But she’d learned at an early age to bluff her way through the rough spots when necessary. Or, as her mother used to say, never let them see you sweat. She’d had plenty of practice when Child Services had come calling to see if she was capable of taking care of her sister or if Emma needed to go into foster care instead.

“Stop pretending you don’t know who I am,” he commanded.

Paige stomped her foot. It was childish, she knew, but it was instinctive. She couldn’t stop herself whenever she was angry or nervous—though anger was not the dominant emotion at the moment.

“You are Alexei, a man I met in Red Square, who helped me when I was in trouble. You obviously have money, and you knew who Chad was as soon as I mentioned him. But I have no idea who you are.”

It was a troubling thought, not to know the man who seemed to know so much about you.

He closed the distance between them, slipped an arm around her waist beneath the blanket. His fingers traced her jaw, slid into the hair at her nape. “You are a fascinating woman, Paige. No wonder Russell chose you for this task. Or did you volunteer?”

With a tug, she was flush against him. The blanket fell away as she let it go to press her hands against his chest. Paige closed her eyes. His naked chest.

His skin was hot beneath her hands, silky and hard, and she longed to stroke it.

Stop it. How could she possibly find him sexy at a time like this?

“Let me go,” she breathed.

“Before you’ve done what you came to do?”

“I didn’t come here to do anything.”

“What did Russell offer you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Were you supposed to seduce me? Supposed to leave me sated and exhausted in bed while you went through my papers?” His head dipped toward her. “Because I have to say, Paige, that I am very disappointed in your technique thus far. But I find I am quite willing to allow you to complete your mission.”

She knew she should pull away when his lips touched hers, but it was physically impossible. Not because he held her too tightly, but because her body was zinging with sparks that she didn’t want to end.

His tongue slipped into her mouth, and she met him stroke for stroke. He smelled so good, like spice and a cold winter night, yet he was as hot as a volcanic eruption. His skin sizzled into her where she touched him with her bare hands. She wanted to slip the shirt from his shoulders, wanted to see if his skin tasted as good as it felt.

His hands slid into her hair, tugged her head back. His mouth left hers, forged a trail of fire along her jaw, the column of her throat.

Her head fell to one side, giving him greater access. He made a sound of approval, and she opened her eyes—just for a moment—and found herself staring at the most erotic scene she’d ever personally experienced. A mirror on the opposite wall caught their reflection, shone it back at her.

It was like a scene out of a movie. A gorgeous man held a woman in his embrace, a woman whose dark hair flowed wildly over her shoulders, whose eyes sparkled with passion as the man’s mouth moved across her skin.

It was exotic and beautiful.

And she wasn’t supposed to be the woman in the scene. This man didn’t care for her. He thought Chad had sent her here to seduce him, for God’s sake—which was a laugh in itself—and she had no idea who he really was.

Paige’s hands curled into fists against his hard chest.

And then she pushed. “Stop. Please stop.”

Amazingly he did. Alexei’s eyes were hot, glittering as he straightened to his full height and glared down at her. He was even taller than Chad, broader, and he did things to her insides—

Stop thinking about it.

Paige closed her eyes, took a step back. Her clothes were intact, but she felt as if he’d undressed her, as if he knew all her secrets.

A ridiculous feeling, really. He might know her name, and he might know she was Chad’s secretary, but he did not know her.

“I want to go back to my hotel,” she said with as much dignity as she could summon. “Chad has a very important meeting tomorrow, and I have to be there. He needs me. And Emma will be wondering where I am by now.”

Alexei shoved a hand through his thick hair—black, not brown, she realized. “You will not be going anywhere tonight.”

“I want to see my sister,” she insisted. “You have no right to keep me here.”

His gaze sharpened. “Your sister is busy, Paige. I doubt she will want to be disturbed. Though perhaps you did not know you were sharing your lover with her?”

Everything inside her went cold and still. “My lover?” she said numbly.

“You never give up the pretense, do you?”

She ignored him, her mind beginning to work overtime. Emma and Chad? They’d met once or twice when Emma had come to the office, but Chad hadn’t shown any particular interest in her sister.

Or had he?

She remembered Emma’s flirtatious giggle, Chad’s megawatt smile, Emma’s declaration later that night that Chad was probably amazing in bed. She’d thought the same thing herself, but she figured she’d never know.

She just hadn’t realized that Emma might actually find out.

Chad had suggested she bring Emma along on this trip when Paige expressed disappointment she would be gone for her sister’s twenty-first birthday. She’d thought he was being kind. She’d refused at first until he insisted it would be fine, that he wouldn’t hear of them being separated for Emma’s birthday.

And now this.

Paige put a hand on the bookcase to steady herself. Rage, disappointment, betrayal—they whirled inside her like a hurricane, spinning her in a vortex of emotion. She’d thought he was interested in her, when all along it had been Emma! She’d been so stupid, so blind.

Chad and Emma. Her boss and her sister. Making love while she searched the icy Moscow streets in a panic. Making love while she nearly got assaulted by a group of drunken men.

Her sister making love with the man she wanted, the man she’d secretly been in love with forever.

Tears pressed against the backs of her eyes. She would not let them fall, not now. Not here, not in front of Alexei.

“Paige,” he said, taking her arm.

She jerked away and hugged her arms tightly around her body. “Leave me alone.”

“I apologize if this news hurts you.”

She speared him with a glare. A blurry glare, since her eyes were swimming in moisture. “You don’t care, so spare me your insincerity. Besides, how do I know you’re telling the truth? How could you possibly have found Emma if she’s in Chad’s room?”

What if he’d made the whole thing up? Though why he would do so, she couldn’t say, but surely it was a possibility.

“My head of security used to work for the secret police,” he replied softly. “Yuri knows people, and he knows how to get things done. But I can certainly prove where your sister is if you wish. My men have audio of her with—”

“Stop,” she blurted, turning away, her body trembling with anger and pain. Her intuition had told her all along he was telling the truth, which was why she’d reacted, but that hadn’t stopped her from grasping at straws. The last thing she wanted to hear was Chad and Emma whispering together in bed. Or worse.

Before she realized what Alexei was about to do, he wrapped her in his embrace, his hand pressing against the back of her head so that her cheek was flush against his bare chest. Briefly she considered struggling—but gave up the idea as his other hand rhythmically rubbed her back.

It’d been a long time since anyone had comforted her. She was always the one doing the comforting, the one who’d sacrificed everything to raise her little sister, never complaining when Emma got the best of everything. Paige had been proud that her hard work enabled Emma to have a normal life, that Emma was able to be a cheerleader and a homecoming queen and a beautiful, successful young woman with a bright future.

She had done that for Emma, and she’d been happy to do so.