скачать книгу бесплатно
‘I am an architect, and an official in the department that deals with government buildings.’
‘And quite a high official,’ Drake put in.
Sergei smiled and didn’t deny it, but went on, ‘And as the Kremlin is the most important government building in Moscow I have to keep a close eye on it.’
‘What a wonderful job,’ Allie said with open awe, but wondering if she was overdoing it a little.
It seemed not. Sergei took her admiration as his due and said expansively, ‘It will be my pleasure to show you over the museum.’
‘How very kind of you. Actually I do have an appointment to meet a Professor Martos. I understand he’s the curator in charge of the Fabergé eggs.’
‘Ah, yes. I know him. I will speak to him and make sure he gives you all the help you need.’
‘That’s really very kind of you. I’m most grateful. I just know I’m going to have a wonderful time here.’
She smiled sweetly at the Russian and he became expansive, telling her about the delights of Moscow that she mustn’t fail to see. After another half an hour and a couple more drinks that he allowed Drake to buy, he remembered he was supposed to be somewhere else and took himself off, first bowing low over Allie’s hand. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss it but he contented himself with pressing it meaningfully while looking into her eyes in open admiration.
When he’d gone, Drake gave him five minutes, then said, ‘Drink up. Let’s get out of here.’
They walked out into the late afternoon sunlight and made their way to Red Square. For a while Drake pointed out the familiar landmarks that she’d heard of so often: the Kremlin with its high surrounding wall, the Gum department store opposite, and the angular red stone of Lenin’s tomb.
There were quite a few people about, mostly groups of tourists, but it wasn’t at all crowded. As they strolled along, Drake looked at her and said dryly, ‘You handled Sergei very well.’
‘He seems nice,’ she said guardedly, and saw his mouth quirk in wry amusement. ‘And wasn’t that what you intended—that I should be nice to him?’
His head came round sharply and his eyes became intent. ‘Not at all. I merely thought he might be useful to you.’
‘Is he a friend of yours?’
‘An acquaintance. Russians like getting to know foreigners. Both male—and female.’
There had been a definite pause and an inflexion on the last word that made Allie raise her head to look at him. ‘Was that a warning?’
He nodded. ‘Russian men tend to think it something to boast about if they can—get to know a European woman.’
‘What do you mean by “get to know”?’ Allie lifted a guilelessly innocent face to his.
Quizzical grey eyes met her blue ones for a moment, then he said wryly, ‘I’m quite sure you understand me.’
To tease him she kept up the naive act for a little longer. ‘Become friendly, do you mean? Let them show you round the city, that kind of thing?’ For a second he looked uncertain, but then saw the amusement in her face. His expression stiffened a little and she laughed. ‘You mean have sex, don’t you?’
Drake nodded. ‘To allow that to happen would be a very big mistake.’
She felt a sudden flash of anger at his presumption in warning her off. What kind of woman did he think she was, for heaven’s sake? Did he think that she could be swept off her feet so easily? Did he think her so cheap that she’d allow herself to be seduced by some stranger, albeit a rather good-looking one? Or was it just that he had a low opinion of women in general and expected them to fall for every glamorous foreigner they met?
‘Thanks for the warning,’ she said shortly, adding on a falsely artless note, ‘I’d never have known men could be so despicable if you hadn’t pointed it out’
His eyes growing contemplative, Drake said, ‘May I ask you a personal question?’
‘You can ask—but I don’t guarantee to answer it.’
‘How old are you?’
Her mouth creased in amusement. ‘How old do you think?’
‘In your mid-twenties?’
She nodded. ‘Near enough. Why do you want to know?’
But he didn’t answer, instead saying, ‘And do you have a partner—isn’t that how people in a lasting relationship are euphemistically described nowadays?’
‘You sound as if you don’t approve.’
‘Of the wording or the relationship?’
She shrugged. ‘Both.’
Drake looked at her for a moment, his face brooding and his eyes hidden under lowered lids, then he said, ‘You haven’t answered my question.’
Seeing that she’d only just met him that was hardly surprising, Allie thought indignantly. She said, ‘I told you I didn’t guarantee an answer.’
‘And you’re not going to?’
Tilting her head to one side as she looked at him, Allie said, ‘I think—not.’
For a moment he looked annoyed, as if he wasn’t used to being thwarted, but then his tone became brisk and formal again. ‘Very well, as you wish. I’ll walk you round to the entrance to the Armoury museum so that you’ll know where to go when you visit.’
He led her round the side of the wall and through a gate in a low iron railing that led through an archway guarded by armed soldiers. Through it they came into an open area where a section of pavement in front of the main building had been given a cover supported by scaffolding poles. A means of keeping the rain and snow off the queues of tourists waiting to enter, Allie presumed. Today, though, it served the purpose of providing welcome shade from the heat.
‘Isn’t it open yet?’ she asked, puzzled.
‘Yes, but visitors are only allowed in at certain times and for a set period.’
‘I hope that won’t apply to me,’ she said in some alarm. ‘I’ll need prolonged visits, preferably when there aren’t any visitors around.’
‘I dare say that can be arranged.’
Allie swept her eyes over him assessingly, wondering if he had any influence here. ‘I understand your company is setting up a branch in Moscow,’ she remarked casually.
‘Yes, that’s right.’
It was far from being a helpful answer, so she had to come right out and ask, ‘What sort of business is it?’
‘Banking,’ Drake replied shortly.
So he was nothing but a glorified bank clerk. Dull stuff, and he certainly couldn’t have any influence that would be helpful. He had probably already done the most that he could in introducing her to Sergei.
Turning, they left the Kremlin to walk back to her hotel. Allie had travelled a lot in the past, on holidays and with her job, so she was used to new countries. But Russia was somehow different. Perhaps the first thing she noticed was the road and street signs; they were completely impossible to decipher because Russia used the Cyrillic alphabet where some of the letters looked the same as the ordinary alphabet but had different meanings. An H for an N, for example. And then there was the beauty and colour of the splendid churches and the Kremlin, compared with the ring of concrete apartment blocks that surrounded the city.
‘Is it safe to walk around alone here?’ she asked idly.
She got a reaction she certainly hadn’t expected. Drake stopped and spun round. ‘What do you mean?’ he demanded sharply.
Blinking in surprise, Allie said, ‘Well...just what I asked; is it OK for me to walk around alone?’
Slowly his taut face relaxed and Drake ran a hand through his hair, but his voice sounded strained as he said, ‘In the daytime, yes, but I would certainly advise against it at night. In fact, I insist that you don’t.’
She gave a small gasp at his vehemence. Was the place that dangerous, then? Allie frowned, puzzled, but said nothing more. When they got to her hotel, she turned to Drake and held out her hand. ‘Well, thank you very much for meeting me and everything. It was very good of you to take the time.’
‘Not at all.’ He shook her hand but didn’t go, instead saying, ‘You said you’d been in contact with Professor Martos. When do you intend to see him?’
‘Some time tomorrow. I’m going to call him now to arrange a time.’
‘Does he speak English?’
‘Yes, I believe so.’
‘Are you sure? Would you like me to help you make the call?’
God give me patience, Allie thought, but said with some irony, ‘I think I might just be able to manage to make a phone call by myself.’
The sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. Drake raised an eyebrow, but only said, ‘Very well. I’ll pick you up at eight to take you out to dinner.’
‘That’s very kind of you, but I really don’t want to put you to any trouble,’ Allie said hastily.
‘It’s no trouble.’
‘But what about...?’ She had been going to say ‘your family’, but intuitively knew that he didn’t have anyone here, so changed it to, ‘I’m sure you’re terribly busy; I don’t want to take up all your time.’
Drake frowned for a moment, then said curtly, ‘I’ll meet you in the lobby at eight.’
He walked to where he’d parked his car and Allie watched him drive away with great misgivings. Trust her to get landed with a chauvinist, and an autocratic one at that. When he’d gone, she made her call to Professor Martos from the phone in the lobby, then quickly strode back to the Gum department store.
The building reminded her strongly of a huge French château with its white façade and sloping green roofs, but inside it was a delight of galleried arcades linked by bridges, ornate iron railings, and stuccoed archways. Allie searched the shopping arcades for a store that sold maps in English and bought a road atlas covering western Russia, from Moscow north to St Petersburg. Only then did she take time to stop and admire the magnificent glass roof that spanned the store like some immense spider’s web, the sun casting shadows that elongated the strands of the web and seemed to reach out to trap the shoppers as they passed below.
The shops were starting to close but Allie browsed through them, looking for typical Russian goods, but the up-market western companies seemed to have hijacked the place and if it hadn’t been for the wonderful architecture she could have been in any shopping mall in any part of the world.
When she got back to her hotel Allie locked the road atlas inside her suitcase. It was unlikely that Drake would ever come up to her room again, but she didn’t want to run any chance of him seeing the book and starting to ask questions. She changed into a beige lace dress that left her shoulders bare and, rather than have Drake call up to her room, went down to the lobby to meet him.
She reached it just as Drake was coming into the hotel. Allie caused quite a stir as she came out of the lift; most of the people glanced round and let their eyes linger. But then, it was a designer dress, and she knew she looked good in it, the colour and the style perfect for her slim figure.
Drake stood still for a moment and then walked forward to meet her. ‘You’re exactly on time,’ he remarked, letting his gaze run over her.
‘I don’t usually keep people waiting for three hours,’ Allie told him, referring to the wait at the airport.
He smiled, his grey eyes creasing with amusement. ‘You’re never going to forget that, are you?’
‘Could anyone?’
‘Don’t let it put you off the country.’ He put a hand under her elbow to lead her to the door.
‘Oh, I won’t.’ She raised her hand to her hair, making him let go of her arm, and then strode ahead of him out into the open.
His car was waiting at the kerb and Drake opened the door for her. She wasn’t sure whether or not he had got the message, but he made no further attempt to touch her.
‘Where are we going?’ Allie asked as he began to drive away from the city centre.
‘To a restaurant where they do typical Russian food. I thought you might prefer that on your first night here.’
‘How thoughtful of you.’
He gave her a somewhat sardonic look, one level eyebrow rising. ‘Most people seem to.’
Which put her in her place, Allie thought, smiling inwardly. ‘Do you live in a hotel?’
‘No, I have an apartment, for the moment.’
‘You intend to move?’
‘No, but my job here is over. I shall be going back to England shortly.’
‘Shortly?’ Allie fastened on the word, wondering if it represented an easier way to get rid of him. ‘I hope you’re not staying on here in Moscow just because of me.’
Drake didn’t answer directly, merely saying, ‘I’m due some leave.’
Turning to look at him, Allie said, ‘Good heavens, how embarrassing. I wouldn’t for the world want to keep you from going home, from being with your family. In the circumstances it was wrong of Bob to ask you to—’
‘I’m happy to do it,’ Drake interrupted rather brusquely.
He said it in a tone that was meant to stop all argument, all further protestations, but Allie tried once more, saying with a little sigh, ‘Bob really is a dear. He worries about me, and I appreciate it. But he never seems to get it into his head that I’m quite capable of looking after myself, even in a foreign country. I can just imagine the list of instructions he gave you.’ She deepened her voice into a playful imitation of her boss’s bass tone. ‘Don’t let her get too friendly with the natives. Make sure she knuckles down to work. Don’t let her go off sightseeing—this isn’t a damn holiday. And don’t let her go on the Metro in case she gets lost. And don’t let her loose in the shops or she’ll spend a fortune.’
Pulling up outside the restaurant, Drake turned to her and laughed. ‘How did you know what he said?’
‘Because I got the very same lecture before I left, of course. Whenever he sends me on an assignment he always worries himself silly in case something happens to me.’
‘I’m surprised he lets you go, then.’
Her voice becoming serious, Allie said pointedly, ‘He has to. I’m good at my job and he knows it. And when it comes down to it, it’s my expertise he wants and is paying for. Oh, he might put on the act of being paternal and worrying about my welfare, but maybe that’s to compensate for the fact that he can’t do the job himself and has to send me instead.’
Drake had turned to look at her and was studying her face, taking in the seriousness of her blue eyes, the tilt of confidence and determination to her chin. Slowly he said, ‘I can understand his concern. You give off an aura of—’ he sought for the right word ‘—of fragility. You remind me of one of those modern figurines. Dressed in the latest fashion but with a delicacy that is becoming lost in the contemporary world. You look as if you might easily break.’
Allie sighed, knowing exactly what he meant; her lack of height and her fine bone structure were the bane of her life—of her professional and working life, at least; in her social life they were definite assets. Firmly, she said, ‘That impression is entirely wrong. It’s an anachronism. I’m a professional career woman and I can handle any situation I come up against. I don’t need a nursemaid, and I certainly don’t need a chaperon—of either sex.’
His eyebrows lifted. ‘That was a very definite statement.’
‘It was meant to be.’
‘And what exactly does not needing a chaperon mean?’
