by Nina Bruhns
She swallowed and blurted out, “Sir, Nikolai already knows why I’m here. I told him. And he hasn’t blown my cover. What does that say to you?”
“Nikolai?” Thurman said, not missing a beat. She gave a mental groan. This was why they paid him the big bucks. “Miss Severin, have you slept with Captain Romanov?” he demanded.
Crap, crap, crap. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “I—”
“Jesus, Julie,” he muttered. “You didn’t have to— Listen, there’s something else I need to tell you about Captain Romanov’s background.”
She stuttered out a breath. Ho-kay. He’d taken that pretty well. “What’s that, sir?”
“It’s about his mother. This is top secret, you understand. But you should know that she—”
Suddenly the line went dead. There was only silence from the other end. Her jaw dropped.
“You can’t be serious!” she cried and began punching buttons to try to get Thurman back. But the phone wouldn’t power up. The battery was dead.
A storm of frustration welled up within her. Of all the times to be cut off! Top secret? What the heck was that all about?
What on earth did CIA have hidden in its top-secret files about Nikolai’s mother? And what did it have to do with her?
Nikolai checked the central post clock for the tenth time since following Julie down the ladder from the bridge. The past twenty minutes had been the longest of his entire life.
“Kapitan?” Lyeĭtenant Danya Petrov poked his head out of the radio room.
Nikolai snapped up guiltily from the Bering Sea chart he was pretending to peruse. The whole time he’d been debating with himself over whether or not to notify Cherenkov of the presence of a saboteur on board. His first instinct was to keep that information close to the chest for now. But if the operative was a friendly, Nikolai’s failure to report it would be noted, and throw him directly under a klieg light of suspicion. Especially considering his involvement with Julie, which the zampolit had no doubt already reported. Not that he gave a flying fuck.
He straightened. “Da, Lyeĭtenant?”
The radioman held up a paper. “Dispatch, sir.”
It was from fleet headquarters and reported that the Russian government had made official inquiries to the Chinese about the 093 supposedly trailing Ostrov and had been assured that both their Shang-class submarines were presently in the Atlantic. Must be a faulty identification.
Sure it was. He was shocked, shocked, at the order to ignore it and proceed with the evolution as planned.
Well, if the 093 was nine thousand kilometers away, it wouldn’t upset its commander too much if Nikolai played a little practical joke on him.
“Thanks, Petrov,” he said, tapping the rolled-up dispatch thoughtfully against his chin. Now to figure out how best to yank the enemy commander’s chain. Not that Nikolai could do anything too outrageous. Julie was right, every news bureau on the planet was following the expedition’s voyage—if fairly cursorily. And every spy satellite in the sky could see when Ostrov’s lookout picked his nose should they choose to. But nevertheless he could send a message to their stalker. Despite his recent setbacks, Kapitan Nikolai Kirillovich Romanov was not to be trifled with. His reputation for being a rule breaker and a rogue among Russian sub drivers was well earned. It had been his nerves of steel and his outrageous daring that had shot his career to the top and gained him his first full command before the age of thirty. That those same traits ended up biting him in the ass was a risk he had gladly taken. He just hadn’t counted on someone else’s sloppy error taking him down in the end.
But that wasn’t going to happen this time.
This time he’d be in complete control.
And he wasn’t the one going down.
No way.
15
Julie had already fallen asleep when she felt Nikolai’s warm, naked body slide into the bunk next to her.
Make that on top of her. The thin mattress was so narrow there was no way they would fit side by side.
She didn’t mind.
“Are you sleeping?” he murmured as he nudged her thighs apart with a knee and lowered himself between them. She was naked, too. She’d gotten undressed when she’d slipped into his bed to wait for him. No sense pretending she didn’t know what was going to happen when he got there. No sense pretending she didn’t want it to happen. Desperately.
She sucked in a breath as his thick cock pushed into her. “Mmm,” she said breathlessly. “Not anymore. What took you so long?”
“Dispatches. Then Professor Sundesvall showed up wanting to know what the schedule is for tomorrow.”
“What is the schedule?” she asked on a gasp of pleasure as he began to move.
He wrapped his big hand around her jaw and touched his lips to hers. “Do you really want to talk right now?” he murmured, thrusting deep into her.
She moaned. “No,” she managed, and she draped her legs around his waist.
“Good,” he said.
And for a long while they didn’t say a word.
Not a coherent one, anyway. He murmured guttural phrases in her ear that may have been Russian. Or not. She could only respond with inarticulate moans and vaguely English-sounding noises of pleasure and encouragement as he took total possession of her body and made it his in an even more fundamental way than he had before.
It felt even better this time, closer, more urgent, and at the same time more . . . real. They’d left behind their doubts and mistrust, as well as the purely physical lust they’d succumbed to the first time. This time the lust felt centered more in their heads . . . and in their hearts.
At least on Julie’s part.
Which scared the hell out of her.
So when the tumult was over and Nikolai collapsed with a satisfied groan onto her, his hard chest sweaty and heaving, she wished it didn’t feel quite so good to have his firm, hot weight crushing her into his woefully inadequate mattress.
“I’m sorry,” he said, breathing hard, “I’ll move off you. Just give me a minute to recover.”
She tightened her arms around him. “Don’t you dare go anywhere,” she murmured between pants. “I’m going to lose you soon enough.”
And just like that, reality crashed back onto her, a thousand times heavier than Nikolai could ever be.
He lifted up on an elbow and gazed down at her, his tawny lashes slumberous. He drew in a deep breath and let it shudder out slowly. “Don’t remind me. I hate to think about that.”
“Me, too,” she whispered.
He kissed her then. A thorough, intense kiss that mirrored her own growing fear that leaving this man behind would likely be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do. And that the day would arrive much too soon.
“This is such a bad idea,” she murmured when he lifted his lips.
“What is?”
“Us. This.”
“Do you want me to stay away?” he asked, his eyes going dark . . . and oddly guarded for a man in his present position.
She let out a rushed sound of denial. “God, no,” she said, lifting her mouth to his again. “Bite your tongue.”
His expression eased and he touched his tongue to her lips. “I’d rather you did.” A twinkle lit his eyes. “Or maybe . . . somewhere else . . . ?”
And she forgot all about how bad an idea this was.
For a little while, anyway.
When she awoke, he was gone.
She wasn’t too surprised, as it would have been incredibly uncomfortable for them to actually sleep together in such a cramped bunk. More’s the pity. But she also figured that even if they’d had a king-sized bed, he wouldn’t linger in it for any length of time. Not here on board. In order to keep Ostrov running at full speed, the crew was on a four-hour-on, tenhour-off rotation that kept them fresh and on top of their game. But she knew Nikolai, as commander, was doing the typical macho thing of being available around the clock and only catching catnaps of a few hours when he could. On a nonmi
litary assignment like this it didn’t matter so much; but nearly all of the other subs out there were armed to the teeth, a good percentage of them with nuclear weapons. It was a wonder there weren’t more serious accidents, with sleepdeprived submarine commanders all over the world making life-and-death decisions. Good thing the oceans of the world were big enough to give them all wide berths to work in.
Well. Except if there was an enemy submarine dogging your tail. In such close quarters things might get hairy. Which was why, thinking about that Chinese 093 trailing them, she really hoped Nikolai had gotten some sleep last night somewhere.
She swung her legs off the bunk and started to rise. But she lost her balance and sat right down again. Which was strange, because the deck was barely rolling under her feet.
She frowned. In fact, the boat wasn’t rocking at all. It was like there were no waves, or—
Good grief. They were barely moving! Were they getting close to the first study area? Jeez, how late was it?
Tentatively rising again, she steadied herself against the boat’s not moving, hurried to the small desk, and snapped on the light to check her watch. Eight forty-five a.m. She’d slept for over seven hours! And missed breakfast as well as Clint Walker’s first UUV launch. Damn!
She noticed a pile of neatly folded clothes on the foldout desk—jeans, black T-shirt, and a navy blue sweater—with a pair of sneakers sitting on top holding down a handwritten note. In beautiful lettering that looked almost like calligraphy, it said,
Julie, I’m sure these will look much better on you than on my men. Hope you had a good sleep. Come find me. Kisses, Nikolai.
She smiled. The man was a saint. And a romantic.
She grabbed a one-minute shower and gratefully pulled on the wonderfully dry clothes and sneakers. The jeans weren’t a perfect fit, but they were a whole lot better than Nikolai’s large coveralls. Though . . . to be honest, she’d miss wearing those. It had been a secret guilty thrill having his name emblazoned on her chest as though she truly belonged to him.
With a sudden pang of wistfulness, she reached out and ran her fingertips over the gold Cyrillic lettering on the coveralls, which still hung neatly on the peg where she’d left them.
If only—
She swallowed and pulled back her hand, curling her fingers into her palm. She had to stop thinking like that. She knew they couldn’t stay together, that she could never truly belong to him. She had to accept it and just enjoy the few days they had together. That would have to be enough. There was no other option.
Before she descended into self-pity, she decided to see to her coffee fix and maybe scrounge some breakfast before going to find him. She hadn’t had any dinner last night and she was ravenous.
In the mess hall she ran into Dr. Stedman, the young Canadian genius.
“Hey, Josh,” she said, inhaling half of her first cup of coffee in one gulp. “What did I miss this morning?”
His brow and his lips crooked wickedly. “Girl, not a damned thing, from what I hear,” he said. He leaned in. “Captain Gorgeous has been whistling all morning, and you, sweetie, look like one very contented cat with golden feathers in her mouth.”
Her hand went reflexively to her lips before she could stop it. She hid a grin. “He is pretty gorgeous, isn’t he?” Not that it was in any way a question.
Josh wagged his finger. “And a very naughty boy. This kind of thing has to be against every navy regulation in the book, I imagine.”
“Yeah, well,” Julie reasoned, taking another sip, “I’m not on his crew, and he’s not one of the scientists I’m writing about, so there’s no conflict of interest or impropriety or anything.” Other than the whole spy thing, of course. But that was a different subject. “Neither of us sexually harassed the other,” she said. “I don’t see the harm.”
Josh gave her a sardonic smile. “You wouldn’t. But I doubt his admirals would agree.”
She finished her coffee and went back to the urn to pour another. “I did mention that to him. He claims it doesn’t matter, he’s on their shit list anyway.”
Josh nodded. “Yeah, that would be because of the Varangerfjørd incident.”
She blinked. “You know about that?”
“Sure. First thing I did when I got on board was look for his name on the Web. Curiosity is my fatal flaw.” He grinned. “Seems the captain made quite the stir with that incident.”
“Yeah, and not in a good way.”
“Depends on who you ask,” Josh said. “Personally, I think he did the right thing picking up those Norwegians. And so does most of the world.”
“Everyone but the people who should. No wonder he doesn’t care about their hypocritical regulations. He doesn’t deserve to be babysitting scientists and listening to whalesong,” she murmured.
“And meeting hot American chicks,” Josh added with a grin. “I have a feeling this morning he might think his fall from grace was totally worth it.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.” She puffed out a breath, remembering Nikolai’s earlier comments about how important his career was to him, that he’d do anything to keep it.
Which was also what James Thurman had warned her about.
Suddenly the coffee in her stomach turned to acid.
Had she made a huge mistake in trusting him? Was that what the incredible sex had been about? Was their attraction all on her part, and his was just . . .
No.
She didn’t believe that.
“You okay?” Josh asked with a frown. “You went quiet. And your smile’s gone.”
“Sorry,” she said, forcing it back to her lips. “I’m good. Just thinking about how unfair life can be sometimes.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Too bad. The captain seems like a nice guy.”
“He is,” she agreed.
At least she hoped to hell he was.
“Well,” Josh said, looking at his watch, “I better get cracking. Our first sampling stop is in just five minutes.”
“Yeah? How does that work?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing too exciting. The sub hovers for an hour while everyone takes their project samples for testing. You know, air, water, currents, pollution. The UUV is sent out and takes a complete set of ocean readings. Edwards launches one of his DAMOCLES buoys.”
“Quite a bit for an hour.”
“It does get hectic. You should come up.”
“Up?” she asked.
“Sure. We take our samples from up on the afterdeck. I hear the weather is great today for a change. You know, fresh air, lots of sunshine.” He smiled. “It’ll be fun.”
Two days ago the thought of standing on the open-air deck of a submarine surrounded by hundreds of miles of nothing but ocean would have put her into a pure panic. Now, a shiver of unease went through her, but she was able to subdue it and think rationally. Thanks to Nikolai. And she also recalled his words about kicking herself if she missed the sights and sounds of this incredible place on top of the world that few people ever had the privilege of seeing.
“Okay,” she said with a smile. “I’d like that.”
“Good!” Josh said. “We’ll see you up there in a few.”
As soon as he left, a Russian rating dressed in chef’s whites came strolling out of the galley carrying a plate, and with a flourish he set it down on the table before her. He said something in Russian and grinned. She looked down at the plate, which smelled heavenly. French toast? Something like that, with powdered sugar and red sauce drizzled over it. Her stomach growled and the submariner, who had to be the cook, grinned wider.
Suddenly she remembered she was famished. “Thank you,” she said with a returning grin, and she took the fork and napkin he handed her. He gave a formal bow, then swaggered back into the galley.
Wow. That was sweet. The regular service? Or a perk of being the captain’s lady?
“Must be nice,” a voice said dryly.
She looked up to see Clint Walker’s sardonic smile. It was obvious what he tho
ught. “I missed breakfast,” she said, feeling vaguely guilty. On second thought, nah.
“Uh-huh.”
“Sorry I missed your UUV launch. I overslept.”
His lips twitched downward. “I just have to ask. Do you have any fucking idea what you’re doing?”
He didn’t say it in a nasty way, but her fork halted halfway to her mouth at his bluntness. “Excuse me?”
He slid into the seat opposite, cradling a cup of coffee between both hands. “You’re Company, right?”
Her eyes widened and her pulse took off. He knew she was CIA? “Ex-cuse me?” she stammered.
He took a sip of coffee. “It has to be you. There are only three Americans on board. It’s not me, and it sure as hell isn’t Edwards. That leaves you. Reporter? Perfect cover.”
“It?” She stared at him, appalled that someone else knew about her job. Was it common freaking knowledge? Did everyone on the damn boat think she was a spy? “What ‘it’? Cover for what?” Her mind took off a mile a minute. Who the hell was this guy? And how the hell did he know—
Or maybe he was just guessing. Trying to trick her.
He tilted his head, considering. “Rookie mission?”
She unparalyzed her arm and took the bite from her fork. “Honestly? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Must be new. Or you’d know better than to try and work a Russian navy commander by sleeping with him.”
She ducked her head to hide the heat she felt streak across her cheeks. “I can’t imagine what you mean. I’m sleeping with Nikolai because I’m attracted to him. Not that it’s any of your damn business,” she added tartly.
He nodded slowly. “Okay. Whatever. So have you found it?”
She shot him a glance. Her heart pounded in her throat. Oh. My. God. “Found what?”
“What you’re looking for.”
She felt a spiral of fear. This was more than guesswork. How much did he know? And how? Had her boss sent another case officer to keep an eye on her? For backup, just in case? If so, why hadn’t Thurman told her about him?