by Alexia Adams
She glanced at him and then bit her bottom lip. “I thought we could eat family style. Can you get the noodles out of the oven and put them on the table? I’ll grab the soup, and the rolls are in the fridge.”
After the delicious meal, they both put the leftovers away, but before Kat could do the dishes, Wolfe took her hand and pulled her into his arms. “Leave them. Let’s go into the sitting room and relax.” Maybe takes some clothes off, see where that leads…
“Can we watch Remington Steele?” Her eyes were full of laughter, and the warmth in his chest increased. The Thai soup had been spicy.
“I don’t think so.” That would bring back too many old memories when he wanted to be making new ones. He’d been watching the show, sitting on the lap of his nanny, when his mother had swept in, announced he was now going to boarding school and the nanny could go back to the Philippines or find a new job. In one fell swoop he’d been wrenched out of the arms of the only person who had loved him. The only other person who’d ever made a house feel like a home to him.
To dispel the chill that invaded his body, he ran his hands up and down his arms. “How about a compromise? Have you seen The Thomas Crown Affair? Pierce Brosnan’s in it. We could watch that.”
“I’ve never even heard of it. Can we snuggle under a blanket on your sofa?”
Kat in his arms, watching a sexy movie, there was only one way this night was going to get better. He let out an exaggerated sigh but couldn’t stop a grin from forming. “If you want.”
She kissed him lightly on the lips. “I want.” She kissed him again, but before he could deepen the embrace, she pulled back. “If we’re going to watch a movie, I want to change into something more comfortable. I’ll meet you in the living room in five minutes.”
More comfortable than yoga pants and a T-shirt? It was the longest five minutes of his life. If she came out of the bathroom wearing something sexy, or nothing at all, his jeans were going to get very tight, very fast. Should he change, too? Bloody hell, when was the last time he’d worried about his wardrobe? He had a TV in his bedroom, they could start the movie in there and then make their own entertainment. But they were restarting their relationship after his botch job of an inquisition yesterday. He didn’t want to push her too fast.
He found the film, poured two liberal glasses of whiskey, and pulled a soft, fluffy blanket out of the linen cupboard.
He’d just sat on the sofa when Kat padded in barefoot. She wore a pair of floral flannel pajama bottoms and an oversize pink shirt, which slid off one naked shoulder. His first mission would be to discover if she wore anything underneath.
She perched herself in the corner of the sofa and spread out the blanket, holding one side up, inviting him in. Any remaining tension from his day evaporated as her body snuggled against his. He definitely should have put on different trousers.
“How was your day? You seemed a bit stressed when you came home.”
There it was again. That word. Home. His new kryptonite. It weakened him and made him not care that he was letting this woman into his life, piece by piece.
“Harry and I had a rather intense meeting. I want to launch a new marketing campaign, but he doesn’t think it’s a good idea. He’s also badgering me to show him the designs for the royal collection, and generally being a pain in the ass. He even said I’d lost focus since you’d been in town and asked when you were leaving. When he found out you’re coming to Russia with me, he went ballistic. I’ve never seen him this way.”
“My offer still stands to check him out. I know he’s your closest friend, and you’ve known him a long time…people change.”
He’d only known Kat for a week, and he’d checked his watch every fifteen minutes at work to see if it was time to leave yet. Simon’s prophecy about adjusting his work schedule was already coming true. Out of sheer stubbornness he’d stayed an extra half hour in the office. If he had left earlier, would he have caught Kat napping in his bed? He could have joined her…
“Let’s leave it a few more days. If the hacker strikes again, we’ll know who the culprit is. If there’s still nothing by the time we get back from Moscow, maybe you could do some general searches.” God, if Harry were behind the malicious code, it would be the worst of betrayals.
Kat opened her mouth as if to argue then closed it again. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her farther onto his chest so he could rub her back. No bra. Why the hell had he chosen a movie again? A TV show would have been done in half the time. Except this was one of his favorites, and he wanted to share it with her.
Soon they were both caught up in the film. He paused it at the midpoint, right after the Caribbean scene, hoping Kat might suggest they relocate to the bedroom. Instead, she disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with dessert made from the cookies she’d baked. Most of the burned bits had been removed and vanilla ice cream, sliced strawberries, and a drizzle of chocolate were sandwiched between biscuits. They were messy and delicious and led to a lot of licking drips off the other. He was about to suggest they forget the film when Kat snuggled back under the blanket.
“Liam has a place in Antigua. Do you have a house in the Caribbean?”
“No.”
“Hmm, maybe I’m hanging with the wrong billionaire, then.”
He slid his hand under her shirt but kept it at her waist. For now. “I may not have a house in the tropics, yet, but neither do I have a wife nor steal paintings for fun.”
“Good points. Guess I’ll stay where I am.” She placed her palm on his chest, and the warmth of her hand went straight through to his heart. Could she feel how fast it beat, despite the fact he was relaxed?
“I can’t believe you haven’t seen this film before.”
“It must have come out while I was in Russia.”
It may shatter the peaceful mood, but he had to ask. “Kat, why risk going back? If I stick with my original plan, I’ll only be gone two days.”
She sat up. Her eyes searched his, her brow wrinkled. She opened her mouth a couple times before the words finally fell out. “I have to find my sister. When she was a dancer, I used to send her fan mail and she’d answer back. But she disappeared from the Bolshoi’s payroll two years ago, and I haven’t been able to find a trace of her since. One of the set dressers at the production here in London said she was still alive but had left a lot of people angry. If she’s in trouble, I have to help her.”
Kat’s concern for her sister tightened his chest. “How come you haven’t gone back to Russia sooner?”
“First, to get a visa I need an invitation to visit the country. I could have gone on an organized tour but that would limit my opportunity to travel independently. Second, I was worried that even travelling as Kat Smith the cyber security expert would create too much interest in me. My skill set is highly sought after by both government and organized crime. People have disappeared in Russia for less reason. Third, if they did monitor me while I visited, I couldn’t risk them linking Natalya to me. If they discover she’s my sister, they can use her as leverage to get me to do what they want. I’m hoping that going in as your girlfriend, no one will take any notice of me.”
He nodded although he wasn’t sure of the logic of her assumption. “Russia’s a big country. Where are you going to start? Your visa is only for four days.”
“I don’t know, but I have to try. Maybe if I talk to some of her fellow dancers, away from the theater, I can find out more.”
“I could hire someone to find her.”
She snuggled back against him, rubbing her cheek against his chest. “No, it has to be me. I don’t trust anyone else. Just take my mind off my worries by playing the movie again.” He knew a better way to take her mind off her missing sister, and it wouldn’t involve pressing play.
As the final credits rolled, a snuffly sound came from Kat. Was she crying? He shifted her slightly so he could see her face to find her eyes closed, her lips parted slightly. She slept. The burn in his
chest intensified. He really needed to lay off the spicy food.
The gentlemanly thing to do would be to find a pillow for her and leave her on the sofa to sleep. Instead, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to his bedroom. After all, she’d sleep much better in a proper bed. And so would he.
Actually, the problem he now had was in sleeping without her next to him. Bloody hell. He was screwed.
Chapter Ten
Kat paced in the luxurious hotel room, waiting for the bellhop to leave after delivering their luggage. She’d been on edge since Wolfe’s private plane had left British airspace. But as she’d hoped, the Russian immigration officer had barely looked at Kat accompanying Wolfe. And for the first time in years, she hadn’t been pulled over in customs for a luggage search. Traveling with a billionaire had its perks.
The bellhop left with a generous tip from Wolfe. The door wasn’t even fully closed before he wrapped his arms around her, his tongue tracing the line of her lips. She tilted her head back and let the passion take her, at least for a few minutes.
Since she’d fallen asleep on Wolfe’s chest at the end of the film on Monday, she’d spent every night with him. She’d even given up her hotel room and essentially moved into his apartment. Only the continual reminder that this was temporary kept the panic at bay. He was becoming too important, too fast, for her to be comfortable with all the changes.
“What are you wearing under this dress?” His hot breath slid down her cleavage. If her nipples hadn’t already been hard, they would be now.
She pulled out of his arms before they got carried away. Their mutual lust seemed insatiable, no matter how many times they made love, including twice on the plane in the three-and-a-half-hour flight from London. She’d changed after the last round into the skintight white dress with the thigh-high slit, which showed off the top of her stockings when she took a step. It fit with the billionaire’s bimbo disguise she’d now assumed. Plus, she liked the way Wolfe’s eyes had barely left her body in twenty minutes.
She shrugged as though she wasn’t still lost in the throes of passion, but her voice was husky when she answered. “Some things in life are meant to remain a mystery.”
“The existence of the Loch Ness monster, the popularity of Kanye West, what really happened to Lord Lucan and Shergar, these are life’s mysteries. Lingerie should not be one of them.” He tried to pull her back into his arms, but she dodged his hold and put the sofa between them.
“They say curiosity killed the cat, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t all that safe for wolves, either.”
His wolfish smile returned. “I’ll take my chances.”
She tapped the watch he’d insisted she wear. It was from his eternity collection and so beautiful it should be worn somewhere more prominent than the wrist. He nodded, understanding her sign that she was on the clock and had limited time to find her sister. There’d be time for lovemaking later.
“This is my first trip to Moscow, babe.” She cringed at the harshness of her American accent. It was even harder to maintain her fake identity surrounded by everything that reminded her she was Russian. Add in Wolfe’s plummy British speech, and her brain had turned to linguistic soup. “I want to see some of the city before you tie me to the bed.” She’d also warned him that it was likely the hotel suite was bugged. The Russian government liked to keep tabs on what rich foreign nationals were doing in the country. And not wanting to appear anything other than a billionaire’s accessory, she’d left her listening device detector in London. So she’d have to stay in character all the time.
“All right. We can have a quick sightseeing tour on our way to dinner.”
As it was already nine p.m., it would be a late dinner indeed. But Kat had discovered where her mother was living, and although she was loath to see her, Irina was the person most likely to know where Natalya was now.
They were back in the limo within minutes. This transport mode wouldn’t work for more discreet investigations, but as her mother lived in a swanky apartment complex with a famous restaurant on the ground floor, it fit with where they were going.
As the car pulled up to the building, Wolfe took her hand and gave it a squeeze. She tried to force a smile, but he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Don’t pretend with me, Katya.”
Her hands shook so much she was glad at least one was clamped in his larger one. The driver opened the door, and within seconds, they stood in the lobby of her mother’s building. Wolfe had discreetly handed the doorman something, and he hadn’t even questioned why they wanted in.
What if her sister was dead? A shudder ripped through Kat. What if she were truly alone in the world now? What if her mother didn’t even recognize her? Wolfe’s arm came around her shoulders, and she leaned into him. Smart independent people knew when they needed help.
Kat smiled at a middle-aged couple as they, too, waited for the elevator. The man’s eyes swept appreciatively up her body, and the woman, wearing a mink stole despite the fact it was late August and more humid than a sauna, jabbed him in the waist. The other couple got off first, and before the elevator doors had even closed, the woman was ripping into her husband for admiring the prostitute. Kat winced but as long as the word “hacker” wasn’t used about her, she wouldn’t complain.
Alone, Wolfe wrapped both arms around her. “You sure you want to do this?”
“No,” she admitted. “But I have to know.”
The elevator doors slid open, and Kat followed the corridor to the apartment where her mother lived. Maybe she wasn’t home. Before she lost her courage, Kat rang the bell. Her knees shook and she wobbled on her heels. Wolfe’s arm wrapped her in a comforting embrace again.
Time was a bitch, had to be, because her mother looked no different than when she’d left Kat staring out the filthy window of their St. Petersburg apartment, tears streaming down her face, twelve years ago. Her blond hair was swept up in a loose bun, her blue eyes sparkled, and her skin was a flawless mask of porcelain. Karma had clearly not caught up with her yet. And based on the designer outfit she wore, her financial status had also not taken a hit with her sister leaving the Bolshoi.
“I believe you have the wrong…” Irina Smirnova began, in Russian. Then her eyes narrowed, and she raked Kat head to toe with her icy gaze. Wolfe pulled Kat closer to him. Her mother’s eyes rested for a long moment on the ten-carat diamond nestled in Kat’s cleavage. Another of Wolfe’s jewels he’d insisted she wear. “Katya?”
“Mother.” Even saying the word made her throat ache.
“Who’s this?” Irina said, her eyes giving Wolfe the same treatment, although with a bit more warmth in them this time.
Kat ignored the question; she wasn’t here for a mother-daughter catch-up. “Where is Natalya?”
If her mother’s face got any frostier, they could use it to air condition the building. “She’s dead.”
Kat’s knees gave way, and she would have fallen to the floor if Wolfe hadn’t held her up. Both his arms wrapped around her. His concerned eyes swept over her face. As her mother had spoken in Russian, he hadn’t understood. “She said my sister is dead,” Kat repeated in English.
“Ah, your pimp is a foreigner. That is the word, isn’t it, for a man who rents out women?” Irina said, in English.
Tension filled Wolfe’s body, although his hold remained gentle. “I am Remington Wolfe, and Katya is my girlfriend. Another man will touch her over my dead body. Come, Kat, there’s nothing to be gained by talking further with this woman.”
If her mother were smart, she wouldn’t rile Wolfe again. His eyes were hard, his lips set in a tight line, and a muscle in his jaw pulsed.
“Wait.” Kat stopped Wolfe before he could move. She turned back to her mother. “How did Natalya die? Is she buried in Moscow?” The searing pain in her chest was almost more than she could bear. If she visited the grave, at least she’d have some closure and be able to say her good-byes to the tombstone.
“She is dead to me. I suppose sh
e still lives somewhere for other people. When she threw away everything I’d worked so hard to achieve for some stupid baby, I disowned her. She had ten years left as a ballerina, she could have had children later.”
Her mother went to close the door, but Kat caught it. “Baby? Nat has a baby? If you don’t want a big scene and all your neighbors popping their heads out into the corridor, tell me where my sister is.” Pain had morphed to anger, and if she had to rip her mother’s door off, she was going to find out where Natalya had gone.
“I honestly have no idea. She left with that plumber and moved to the countryside.”
“A name, give me a name, Mother.” Kat’s jaw was clenched so tight her teeth ached.
“His name was Alexei something. Really, Katya, he was so beneath her, a common laborer. He wasn’t even the baby’s father.” Her mother’s eyes lingered on Wolfe. “Pravda, are you the Remington Wolfe, the famous jewelry designer? I have visited your store in Paris with my friend and seen your photos in Hello magazine. You are even better looking in person.”
Irina ran a hand down the neckline of her dress. What? Her mother was flirting now with Wolfe. She had no shame. Although Kat couldn’t fault her taste.
“I am the Remington Wolfe who is proud to be your daughter’s man. Are we done here, Kat?”
“Yes.”
They both turned and walked down the corridor, neither looking back. They were almost at the elevator before her mother’s door shut. Once inside the limo, Wolfe pulled Kat onto his lap. “Why don’t we go back to the hotel and get room service?”
“Yes.” It was all she could manage.
“My offer still stands. I can hire someone to find your sister.”
And if the wrong people found out she was looking for Natalya, five years as a fake American or being the pretend girlfriend of a British billionaire wouldn’t be enough to protect her. She swallowed down a lump in her throat and put a hand on Wolfe’s cheek. “No. I have to do this myself. This is Russia, people won’t talk to a stranger. It has to be me.”