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Prince Voronov's Virgin
Prince Voronov's Virgin
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Prince Voronov's Virgin

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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.

But why did Emma have to get everything?

On the heels of jealousy, guilt rode hard. Who was Paige to deny her sister anything? Paige had been practically an adult when their mother died. Emma was the one who’d grown up without a loving mother. Paige had done everything for her, but a sister wasn’t the same as a mother, no matter how hard she tried.

A tear spilled free, and then another, until finally Paige was curling her hands into Alexei’s shirt as the first heartbroken sob escaped her. After that, it was easy to cry. She’d held the tears in for so long. She hadn’t cried since her mother’s funeral, had believed that tears made her weak.

Now, it felt good to let it all out. Cleansing. The man holding her never stopped rubbing her back, never made a move to pull away and leave her alone. Selfishly she clung to him and cried for all the years she’d lost.

While she cried herself out, she made a decision. From now on, Paige would no longer neglect her own happiness for that of others. When she wanted something, she would not deny herself. She was through denying herself.

It was a new day for Paige Barnes. And she knew just how to prove it.

CHAPTER THREE

ALEXEI SENSED THE change in her before she acted. One minute she was sobbing her heart out, the next she was standing on tiptoe and pulling him down for another kiss.

He was tempted. More than tempted. Alexei let her kiss him, fighting his reaction as her lips moved tentatively over his. She tasted like salt and sadness, and he wanted nothing more than to take that sadness away. It was his fatal flaw, this desire to protect and comfort those in need. He’d spent years fighting for his family, years that had taken their toll.