Insanity.
Yet he didn’t move away as the plane took off, nor did he let her go.
* * *
Katya’s muscles had locked up. Ridiculous. All he was doing was holding her hand and yet it felt like she had a hot coal resting in her palm. She didn’t like the sensation any more than she’d liked any of the other uneasy feelings being close to Alex St. James seemed to generate.
Feelings? It’s sexual attraction; don’t deny it.
As soon as the plane leveled off, Katya pulled her hand away from him, ignoring the snide voice in her head. It couldn’t be sexual attraction. She hadn’t experienced any of the same physical symptoms when she’d been close to Mikhail, and if there was one man she should feel them for it was him. Not for some self-indulgent, selfish American playboy.
Well, whatever they were, she had to ignore them. They were distracting and that could be dangerous. That could end up being fatal for either her or her client.
She had to be on her guard.
The stewardess approached, tall and blond and willowy, smiling at both of them, not only Alex. It was strange to be on the receiving end of such attention. Bodyguards were supposed to fade into the woodwork, not be noticed. Yet another damn thing about this mission that made Katya uncomfortable.
Alex ordered drinks before she had a chance to refuse, undoing his seat belt and grabbing one of the gossip magazines on the table in front of him.
“I shouldn’t have anything to drink,” Katya said. “Not while I’m on the job.”
He dropped the magazine in her lap. “You’ll have to. Not unless you want pregnancy rumors happening, since that’s the only reason one of my lovers wouldn’t have at least one glass of champagne.”
Apparently nothing about this was going to be easy.
Frowning, Katya looked down at the magazine in her lap. “What’s this?”
“Research. I don’t know how much celebrity gossip you’re aware of, but if you’re with me you’ll need to be up with who’s who.”
She wasn’t interested in the slightest about the lifestyles of the rich and famous. Hadn’t she seen all she needed to in the past three months with him anyway?
“Will we be encountering any of these people?” She gestured at the magazine.
“Maybe. That’s the wonderful thing about Monaco. You never know who’s going to turn up.” There was an undercurrent in his voice that made her think he meant something by the words, though what she had no idea.
Yet another reminder of the glaring gap in her knowledge: the reason for this visit in the first place. He’d been very good at avoiding the subject whenever she tried to bring it up over the past few days and she was starting to think that he didn’t want to tell her, though she couldn’t imagine why. Didn’t he want to keep her up-to-date? Make her as effective as possible in protecting him?
God, how she hated not knowing things. She didn’t feel like she’d had enough intel about what they were heading into in Monaco, and that could turn out to be a problem if they weren’t careful.
She’d spent some time researching Monaco, the layout of the Fourth Circle, one of his Nine Circles clubs where they’d be staying, as well as the Four Horsemen casino this poker game was supposed to be held in. However, she had nothing to go on about the Apocalypse poker game itself, since there appeared to be no info available about it. A fact that did not make her feel any better about this whole mission.
She’d even done a quick search for information about the owner of the casino where the game was supposed to take place. One Conrad South. But she hadn’t been able to turn up much about him either. At least nothing she didn’t already know. He was the rich and apparently very private owner of the Four Horsemen, one of Monaco’s most exclusive casinos. And that was it.
All in all very disappointing.
The stewardess brought over the champagne, placing two glasses on the table in front of them.
Alex leaned forward and picked up his glass, raising it. “A toast, darling. To a wonderful week in Monte Carlo.” That look was back in his eyes, the one he’d given her in the limo before they’d gotten onto the plane. When he’d demanded she accept that bet. A dare. A challenge.
Well, she hadn’t appreciated it then and she didn’t appreciate it now. Especially not with her mile-wide competitive streak, the same one that had driven her to graduate at the top of her class at military school. That had driven her to prove herself to her father, to be the strong soldier he’d wanted her to be.
To prove you’re not weak like your mother.
Ah, but that was one thing she didn’t have to prove, not anymore.
Katya picked up her glass, pasted what she hoped was a dazzling smile on her face, and knocked her glass against his. “To Monte Carlo.”
His mouth curved as he took a sip of the wine, sprawling back in the chair next to her. “Very good. But it’s going to take more than a smile and champagne to convince people you’re my latest acquisition.” He glanced at the heavy and no doubt horrifically expensive Rolex on his wrist. “We have about nine hours before we reach Monaco, so I’m thinking we could get in some practice with a few things.”
She allowed herself one sip of wine before putting it back on the table. It was dry and quite a bit more delicious than she expected, but she didn’t normally drink and didn’t want to start now, no matter what he said about pregnancy rumors.
“Yes,” she said. “Excellent idea. I have some questions.” Now perhaps she could finally pin him down about the real reason they were attending this poker game.
He gazed at her over the rim of his wineglass. “I wasn’t thinking about questions, sweetheart.”
Katya shifted surreptitiously in her seat, trying to loosen the fabric of her skirt. It was annoyingly tight and she didn’t like it. In fact, she didn’t like anything about the restrictive outfit Alex had chosen for her today. Then again, she was probably going to have to get used to that, since most of the outfits she’d be wearing would be restrictive.
Just as she was going to have to get used to not having her weapon on her.
She’d tried to tell herself that was a good thing, since becoming too reliant on your gun was a mistake. Besides, if she wanted a deadly weapon, the heels of the stilettos she’d been forced to wear and couldn’t walk in would do nicely.
“What do you mean then?” She shifted again, her feet aching. “I’m still expecting a briefing on the situation we’ll be walking into when we get to Monaco.”
Alex waved his glass negligently. “It’s a poker game. What more do you need to know?”
“You’ve never been worried about being seen with a bodyguard at any of your other poker games. Why is this one different?”
“I’m not sure that information is relevant to the mission.”
“Forgive me, sir, but everything is relevant to the mission. As I think I’ve explained to you, the more I know, the better I can protect you.”
There was a gleam she didn’t trust in his eyes. “And you just made another mistake.”
Oh dammit. Alex. His name was Alex. Why did she find it so difficult to say?
He put his glass down. “Make me that bet, Katya. It’ll help keep you on track if nothing else.”
She didn’t make mistakes, at least not usually. And she certainly didn’t want to turn her job into a game. “You’ve left it too late. We’re in the air now. I can refuse.”
“I can also not help you find your boyfriend.” He smiled. “See? We’re even.”
Katya had a sudden vision of herself flinging the wine in his face, then following it up with a swift punch to the throat. It was a very satisfying vision. Unfortunately, though, violence wasn’t exactly the most intelligent way to deal with difficult clients.
She needed to be subtler than that, especially with him. “Very well,” she said, trying and failing to keep the curt sound out of her voice. “I’ll make you your bet.”
His smile widened. “Excellent. So, another mistake an
d you owe me the forfeit of my choice. A mistake being anything that will betray the fact that you’re not actually my lover.”
“And if I don’t make any more mistakes?”
“Fair’s fair. When we return to New York, I’ll be the one to pay the forfeit of your choice.”
“Very well.” She made her tone expressionless. “I agree.”
He extended his hand, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Shake on it.”
Katya didn’t hesitate. She reached out and took his hand, delivering the firm handshake she normally used with clients.
Except he didn’t let go, and she found her muscles locking up again, that familiar prickling heat creeping over her skin. She met his intense blue stare and her breath caught.
That look … She’d seen him look at plenty of other women like that, but never had it turned on her. As if she were something delicious he wanted to eat.
No wonder other women melted under that gaze. No wonder they fluttered and swooned like butterflies around him.
Pity she wasn’t one of those women.
The General had once given her a lecture on the temptations of the opposite sex and how she had to keep herself pure. That her strength lay in being untouchable. That her loyalty to her commander and her country couldn’t be compromised by a man. Unless that man was Mikhail of course.
She’d stayed true to that advice even after she’d left Russia and she certainly didn’t want to compromise her position now.
Are you sure about that?
Oh yes. She was sure.
Katya fought down the heat and the tremble that gripped her, and raised an eyebrow instead. “What now?”
“My original thought on how we could spend the next nine hours, darling. There’s a few things we need to work on, such as physical closeness. It’s not going to be very believable with you flinching every time I touch you.” He turned her hand over in his, rubbed his thumb over her palm in a gentle caress. Sparks shot up her arm and it was only sheer force of will that held her still, determined not to move a muscle.
“I do not flinch,” she said coolly, willing her arm to relax and ease the tension out of her fingers.
“Au contraire. You’re as stiff as a fucking board right now and I’m only holding your hand. What are you going to be like when I kiss you?”
Kiss her? He was going to kiss her?
Of course he’s going to kiss you. You’re supposed to be his lover.
An image flashed in her mind, of the woman in his apartment a few weeks ago, when she’d asked him about the dice. Of how he’d looked as he’d kissed her. His dark head bent, intent and sure and ruthless. And the way the woman’s body had melted against his …
Katya set her jaw, deliberately erasing the provocative image from her head. “I’m sure I can manage,” she answered, keeping her voice flat and expressionless.
“I’m not convinced.” He cocked his head, light from the windows sheening the inky black of his hair. “And if I’m not convinced then no one else will be.”
Again, he was right. But she didn’t like it. Didn’t like it at all.
Why not? He’s just a man and this is only a job.
That was true. And she’d had three months of close observation of Alex’s many and varied lovers, of their behavior around him. She could do that. She wasn’t an actress, but she could pretend.
“Very well,” she said, keeping a tight leash on her reactions as he idly brushed his thumb over her palm again, sending more prickles of that odd heat washing over her skin. “What did you have in mind?”
He searched her face and she knew he was looking for some kind of reaction from her, perhaps even hoping for it. But she only looked coolly back, betraying nothing.
A mistake. Because a glint of deep, intense blue suddenly lit in his eyes and she knew she’d woken something in him. Something that should have stayed asleep.
He released her hand and rose to his feet. “What do I have in mind?” he echoed, crossing over to the white leather couch opposite them and sitting down on it so he was facing her. “I’m thinking a demonstration. I want you to convince me that you’re desperate for me. That you can’t get enough of me. That all you want is for me to take you to bed.” He clasped his hands between his knees. “I like my lovers to be frank and uninhibited about what they want. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”
Oh yes, she did. His lovers generally were very frank.
Adrenaline had begun to buzz in her veins. Like the rush she got on an intensely physical mission. Where there was nothing but the end goal in mind, only your orders to obey. Where everything was simple and there was no politics or murky loyalties, or unexpected betrayals. A dangerous thing to think when nothing that concerned Alex St. James would ever be that simple.
But this was her mission and she was going to accept it.
“Certainly,” she said. “I can do that.”
Katya pushed herself out of the chair, taking a moment to get her balance on the unfamiliar shoes and to smooth down the wrinkles in her skirt.
Alex had leaned back on the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him, his arms folded. Watching her as if ready for some kind of performance.
She’d never done this before, but it wasn’t as if she’d been blind these past three months.
The woman in his apartment was clear in her mind. The one who’d wrapped her arms around him and asked him to come back to bed, all warmth and sleepy sensuality. She could do that, oh yes, she could.
Katya let a smile turn her mouth and dropped her lashes halfway. Then she walked slowly across the jet’s soft white carpeting, the unnaturally high heels guiding the movement of her hips. She kept her gaze on his as she walked, not breaking eye contact.
He waited and she was very conscious of a gathering tension. One that hadn’t been there before and shouldn’t be there now. But it was too late to pull back, too late to stop. She just had to ignore it, pretend it wasn’t there.
She came to a stop in front of him, standing with legs apart on either side of his. Then bent, putting one hand on the arm of the couch and the other on the back of it, leaning over him, looking down into the deep, intense blue of his eyes. They widened slightly and she had the feeling she’d surprised him.
About damn time.
She kept her smile where it was, lifting her hand from the arm of the chair and running a finger along the warm skin of his hard jaw, feeling the brush of stubble. “Alex, darling,” she murmured, her voice low and husky. “Why don’t you come to bed? I’m so lonely there all by myself.”
He didn’t say a word, only held her gaze. But she felt the muscle in the side of his jaw clench, saw the faint rise of color on his perfect cheekbones.
Interesting. Was this little performance doing something to him?
An unfamiliar sense of satisfaction gripped her, a feeling of power she’d never experienced before. Pushing her advantage for reasons she couldn’t have explained, Katya lowered her head a bit more and let her trailing finger move along the line of his lower lip, tracing the full curve of it. The contrast of the roughness of his jaw to the softness of his mouth was … intriguing.
He remained motionless as she touched him, no expression whatsoever on his face. And yet there was a flame in his eyes. And it burned hot.
Stop, you fool.
He smelled good, a subtle, expensive aftershave that had hints of sandalwood and musk in it. But beneath it another scent, hotter. Raw. The scent of the man beneath the custom-made suit and the lazy smile. A different man.
Finish this.
But she couldn’t seem to pull away or stop touching his mouth, and for some reason she was achingly aware of the stretch of his long, lean body beneath her. She lowered her head even farther, so their lips were inches apart, feeling the absurd need to test his boundaries as much as he was testing hers.
“Alex…” she whispered, caressing his name.
His body tensed and she recognized it with the instinct of a fighte
r. Saw his hand begin to reach for her.
Katya pushed herself away with a sharp movement, straightening and wiping the smile off her face. Looking coolly at him as if his nearness had had no effect on her whatsoever. And of course it hadn’t. This was a test for herself as much as for him, and one she’d passed with flying colors.
She put her hands behind her back so he wouldn’t see them shake and raised an eyebrow. “Convincing enough for you?”
CHAPTER SIX
“Good to have you back, Mr. St. James.”
Alex gave Marc, the manager of the Fourth Circle, a short nod. “Are my apartments ready?”
“Yes. Everything has been arranged for you and Miss Ivanova.”
He seemed to be exquisitely conscious of Katya standing next to him, of the warmth of her hip beneath his palm. Of that maddeningly simple, innocent scent of oranges.
He’d never been so aware of another person and it pissed him off.
He should have done something on the plane, when she’d leaned over him, touching him, her lips millimeters from his. He should have grabbed her. Kissed her. Shocked her in some way. Punished her for making him hard with a mere touch. For making him want what he knew he shouldn’t have.
And most of all for getting under his guard.
Convincing enough for you?
Oh yeah, she’d been convincing. Too fucking convincing. And for the first time in his life, he hadn’t known what to do or what to say. He’d muttered something, he couldn’t remember what, then had gotten out of the chair and found himself some work to carry on with, anything to distract him from the desire coiling in his gut. From the hard-on in his pants.
He wasn’t used to self-restraint and that didn’t do anything for his mood either. But he didn’t want her to know how she’d affected him. Jesus, one touch. On his fucking mouth. Sure, they had chemistry, but he’d had chemistry with other women before and none of them had managed to get him so hard so quickly.
Dangerous.…
Dangerous? Where the fuck had that come from?
Alex shrugged off the thought. No, chemistry wasn’t dangerous and his unease was only due to Conrad’s damn poker game. Nothing to do with Katya herself. God, what he should have done was taken her when he’d had the chance. Indulged himself like he did with anything he wanted, rules be damned.
Make You Mine Page 8
