Behind the Palace Walls

by Lynn Raye Harris

  Just as he’d hoped, Paige’s head snapped up. Her smoky eyes were huge in her face. Her glasses had fallen down the bridge of her nose and she pushed them back up with a finger.

  He wanted to kiss the tip of that pert nose. The thought startled him. He could not afford to feel such romantic nonsense. She was a woman, an attractive woman, and she very possibly had information he needed. That was his sole reason for being interested in her.

  “I’m not going to St. Petersburg, Prince Voronov.” Chad sneered. “I’m staying right here until this deal is in the bag.”

  “You will not win.”

  Hatred oozed from the other man. “Don’t be too sure of that.” He turned to the woman sitting behind him. “Gather everything and meet me in the lobby. I have a phone call to make.”

  “Alone at last,” Alexei said once Chad had stormed out of the conference room like a Texas whirlwind.

  Paige crossed to the table, doing her best to give him the cold shoulder. “You shouldn’t be talking to me,” she said as she started to stack papers into neat piles. He did not miss that her fingers trembled.

  “Why not? I like talking to you.” Oddly enough, he truly did. He shouldn’t, but she was refreshing in a way the women he usually dated were not. Still, he would not allow anything—not even her relative innocence—to interfere with his plan to ply her for information.

  Her gaze snapped to his, then dropped again. A tinge of pink stained her cheeks. He liked that about her. Her long dark hair was gathered in a ponytail, and she wore a conservative black pantsuit with a high-collared white shirt. The suit fit her well enough, but she looked like a penguin.

  A penguin he wanted to unwrap. She was too staid, too stuffy. It would be a pleasure to strip her of her businesslike formality, to see the sensual woman he’d glimpsed last night when he’d kissed her in the square. Her glasses slipped down her nose as she worked. She took a moment to shove them up again before continuing with her sorting.

  “I work for Chad Russell,” she said, “and I’d like to keep my job, if you don’t mind. So please don’t talk to me.”

  “Why is talking to you a bad thing?” he asked, moving around the table until he stood next to her. Until he could breathe in her summery scent.

  Were those peaches he smelled? Unbidden, the thought she should be dressed in warm vibrant colors like summertime filtered into his mind. Though white suited her, like snow covering a pure landscape, it did not do so when overwhelmed by so much black.

  So prim, this woman. She would be a challenge, perhaps. He liked challenges, relished them. Especially when they were unexpected.

  She stopped what she was doing and turned toward him. He didn’t miss the movement of her throat as she swallowed heavily. Her fingers shook where they rested on a pile of papers in midsort.

  “Because I don’t like lying to my boss, and because I don’t want him to ask me anything about you—why I was talking to you, what I think of you—anything. Because talking to you tangles me in a web of lies, and I’m no good at it.”

  Alexei laid his hand over hers on the papers. He affected her. And he definitely planned to use it to his advantage, to romance her, to romance any information out of her that he could get. In war, he took no prisoners, eschewed no tactics.

  He pushed aside a stab of guilt as he caressed the back of her hand. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Are you insane? Didn’t you hear a thing I said? I can’t have dinner with you!”

  “Chad doesn’t have to know,” Alexei said, giving her hand a tug until she was flush against him. He had a sudden desperate urge to feel the warm softness of her body pressed against him again. To drown in her soft scent and softer skin.

  When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip.

  “Let me go,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast.

  And though he didn’t want to do it, though he wanted to kiss her into compliance, he did as she asked. She immediately stepped away and put her arms around her body.

  Frustration sawed into him. “I admire your loyalty to your boss, Paige, but does he also command your personal life? Is he allowed to tell you whom you may or may not see?”

  A shadow crossed her face. “Of course not. But this is complicated. You’re the enemy.”

  Alexei couldn’t contain a sharp laugh. He was indeed, but he didn’t want her to think so.

  “You are,” she insisted, frowning. “To Chad, you are. And I work for him.” She took a deep breath, let it out in a long sigh. “Besides that, he’s asked my sister to marry him.”

  Alexei stopped laughing. Paige swiped a hand beneath her nose and turned to the papers once more. Clearly she was hurt by this new development. And he didn’t like seeing her hurt. The change in her expression was like watching dark clouds blotting out the sun. It bothered him.

  Watching her with Chad today, he could tell there was no relationship between them, no spark. It had made him absurdly happy. Yet now she was sad, and he didn’t like it.

  “I’m sorry, Paige.”

  She shrugged. “For what? This is a very good thing. My sister is very happy.”

  “Are you?”

  Her shoulders seemed to slump. Just as quickly, she straightened and turned to look at him with pride on her face. “Yes, I am. Emma is beautiful and amazing and she deserves a man like Chad.”

  “And what do you deserve?”

  Her lower lip trembled before her teeth stopped it. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she said very softly.

  “Do what? I am asking you a question, such as one friend asks another.”

  “You aren’t my friend.”

  He pressed his advantage. “Not yet. But I could be.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Prince Voronov. It’s impossible, and you know it.”

  “Call me Alexei. And I can tell you what you deserve,” he continued. He knew what she needed to hear. She was a woman who didn’t believe in herself, and he was a man who was very good at saying the right things. She looked at him hopefully. He wondered if she knew she’d done so.

  “You deserve to laugh,” he said quietly, seriously. “You deserve to do something for yourself instead of always doing for others. You deserve happiness, Paige, and you deserve to stop worrying about everything and let someone else worry for you. You deserve flowers every day, candlelight dinners and a man who wants you very much. You deserve everything your sister has, and more.”

  Her eyes glistened. Her mouth dropped open, shut again, and he knew he’d hit the mark. Another spear of guilt shot through him. He didn’t want to like her, didn’t want to feel pleased that he’d moved her. He did what was necessary to avenge his family; he had no room for remorse.

  “What makes you think I don’t do anything for myself? A few hours acquaintance hardly qualifies you as an expert on me.”

  She was defensive, and he didn’t blame her. He’d gone deep and it had to sting.

  “You are an open book, Paige Barnes. I am simply reading what is written for all to see.”

  Her dark eyes were wounded, as if he’d exposed the soft underbelly of her vulnerability with just a few words.

  “I—I—” Whatever she was about to say was lost as her jaw snapped shut and she whirled away from him. Opening the briefcase, she shoved all the papers inside, no longer interested in order or neatness.

  Alexei cursed inwardly as she jammed the lid shut and locked it. He’d gone too far, spooked her.

  “I have to go,” she said without looking at him again. “Chad’s waiting for me.”

  Before he could stop her, she bolted from the room. For the second time today, Paige Barnes had run away from him.

  Paige threw down her pen and pushed back from the desk in her room. How could she work when all she could think of was Alexei Voronov telling her she deserved happiness and love?

  Of course he hadn’t meant he was the man who was going to give her those things, but she’d felt
as if she must look so pitifully grateful, so hopeful, that she’d reacted defensively. And when he’d called her an open book, it too eerily echoed her own thoughts. She’d suddenly felt the urgent need to escape before she embarrassed herself any further.

  She was a strong woman. She’d been strong all her life, and she’d taken care of herself and her sister since their mother had died. She’d sacrificed and scraped, and she was independent and moderately successful. So why did she dissolve into a puddle of mush around a man she barely knew? Why did he make her feel so vulnerable?

  A glance at her watch told her it was nearly four in the afternoon. It felt earlier since the sun usually set so late here in the spring and summer—though you wouldn’t know it was spring with the snow outside. But her stomach growled and she realized she hadn’t eaten since grabbing a pastry and coffee this morning before going to the meeting. She thought about ordering room service, but decided that going to the hotel restaurant was a better idea.

  She’d locked herself inside since she’d returned a few hours ago, and it was time to get out, among people. Perhaps then she would stop thinking so much about one Russian prince.

  Chad and Emma were off somewhere, and would be spending their free time together for the rest of the time they were here. Now that Paige knew about the relationship, there was no need to keep up the pretense. Chad had apologized to her on the ride to the meeting this morning. He’d wanted to tell her, he’d said, but he hadn’t been sure she would approve.

  She’d admitted that she wouldn’t have, and—without a care for possible job ramifications—had told him that if he hurt her sister, she’d gut him. He hadn’t fired her, as she’d half expected, but had instead assured her that he loved Emma and would never hurt her.

  While they were at the meeting, Emma had moved her suitcases to Chad’s room.

  Which left Paige alone and feeling kind of blue. Though Emma was in college, she’d continued to live at home. Paige was accustomed to having someone there. Of course she’d taken business trips before, and of course she’d stayed alone. But this trip seemed so different, and Emma’s absence so final, that it bothered her more than she’d thought it would.

  Paige hadn’t changed out of her suit earlier, so she grabbed her jacket and took the elevator down to the lobby. Fifteen minutes later, she was seated in a corner booth and contemplating the English menu a waiter had brought.

  “Don’t order the borscht,” a deep voice said. Her head snapped up, her gaze colliding with icy gray eyes. Her pulse shot skyward.

  He slid into the booth seat opposite her. “Everyone who comes to Russia orders borscht, but there is far more to our cuisine than cabbage.”

  “What are you doing here?” Paige demanded. “Go away before you get me in trouble!”

  “Do not worry, Paige. No one will see you talking to me.”

  “You don’t know that,” she insisted. “What if Chad gets hungry? What if he comes in here?”

  He shrugged. It infuriated her the way he so casually dismissed her fears. He was rich, and he didn’t have to worry about losing his job. But she had so much more to worry about than her job now that Chad was planning to marry her sister. She would not cause problems between them.

  “You should have agreed to come to dinner with me. Then we would not be here, but elsewhere.”

  Paige gritted her teeth. “Go away.”

  He leaned back against the cushions and shot her an arrogant grin. “Only if you go with me.”

  Her heart leaped into double time. “I’m not going with you, Alexei.”

  “Then I will stay with you,” he said, reaching for the menu.

  She held it tight, refusing to let go.

  “This is a nice hotel,” he said, “but it caters to tourists. Wouldn’t you like to try real Russian food? See more than the inside of your room and the airport?”

  “I’ve already been to Red Square,” she said primly.

  His grin could have melted an iceberg. “I have fond memories of your trip to Red Square.”

  Paige tried not to blush, though she could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks. For once in her life, she wished she’d slept around more. Then she wouldn’t be so affected by Alexei Voronov’s wicked grin.

  “You didn’t really come here to make me go to dinner with you,” she said, trying to interject some reality back into the situation.

  “No. I had to meet with someone. But I saw you enter the restaurant, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see you again.”

  “Stop saying things like that.”

  “Why not? You are a beautiful woman, and I wanted to see you.”

  No one had ever called her beautiful. She was passably pretty, but she was too plain to be beautiful. Fashion confused her, makeup was a mystery that she’d only partially solved—blush, lipgloss and mascara usage were pretty simple—and her hair was so long and thick that she usually just ended up with a ponytail. Emma tried to get her to wear trendier clothes, but she never felt quite right in them. Emma’s style was wrong for Paige, and since she didn’t really know how to find her own, she settled for business suits and jeans. It was a safe wardrobe. Conservative.

  “I can see you do not believe me,” Alexei continued. “This shocks me, Paige.”

  She lifted her chin a notch while she clutched the menu between her hands. “I don’t trust you, Prince Voronov. You have an ulterior motive.”

  His face split into another of those jaw-dropping grins. “How well you know me already,” he purred. “I do have an ulterior motive.” Then he leaned forward and caught one of her hands in his. “The motive is that I want you to come with me now. I promise Chad will never know. He may speak Russian, but he does not know this place like I do. He will not venture beyond the more trendy districts.”

  “And you want to take me somewhere that isn’t trendy?” She pulled her hand away, though her heart continued to beat overtime. “I’m not sure if I should be insulted or relieved.”

  Oh my God, she was bantering with him.

  His sensual mouth curved, showing impossibly white teeth. “I would take you to the finest restaurant in the city, if you would allow me. But since you will not, I want to take you somewhere even better.”

  “Better than the finest restaurant in the city? That doesn’t seem possible, now does it?”

  “It is very possible, I assure you. You have only to say yes, and you will find out. Come with me now, Paige.”

  She liked talking to him. He took away the loneliness, and he made her insides churn with excitement. Warmth flowed through her like she’d submerged in a hot bath. It made her languid and less uncertain.

  Was it truly wrong to consider going to dinner with him? Chad and Emma were very likely locked in their suite, ordering room service and making love. Why couldn’t she see the city and enjoy herself for a while? What was the harm in that?

  “I can’t,” she said, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. Because she wanted to go. She wanted to spend more time with this man who told her she was beautiful. He made her feel like she was someone special, even if it were an illusion. It was a new feeling and she liked it way too much.

  “That is Chad Russell talking,” he said disdainfully. “I want to hear what Paige Barnes wants.”

  Paige closed her eyes. She wanted to see the city, and she wanted to have dinner with a handsome man who gave her compliments. “It’s too complicated. I shouldn’t go.”

  “What is complicated about eating together?”

  But why couldn’t she have an evening of fun? Emma was with Chad, and they were so happy with each other that they wouldn’t notice if Paige went out for a few hours. So long as the restaurant was far from the hotel and not a place likely to be frequented by tourists, what was the harm? She’d already spent the night with this man. It couldn’t get any worse than that.

  Besides, what had happened to her vow to live for herself, to do what Paige wanted for a change?

  “Yes,” she bre
athed before she could change her mind. “I’ll go to dinner with you.”

  “Speciba,” Alexei said as he slid from the seat and grabbed her hand. He tossed some bills down on the table, though she’d ordered nothing yet, and tugged her toward the exit.

  “Wait, I need my coat,” she said, pulling against him. She hadn’t expected them to move so fast once she’d agreed. She’d thought she would have time to run up to her room and get her coat at the very least.

  “I will buy you a coat,” he replied.

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Of course you can.” He dragged her into one of the shops in the lobby, picked out a long white coat made of the finest cashmere and wrapped her in it while the shopgirl oohed and ahhed.

  “Alexei—”

  “Quiet, Paige.”

  Next he selected a fur cap, like the one he’d worn last night, though in white, a snowy scarf and matching gloves made of the finest kid. Then he took a credit card from the breast pocket of his jacket and handed it to the cashier before Paige could insist on paying for it herself.

  A moment later and he was hustling her out the lobby doors and into a long black limousine.

  “I want to pay you for everything,” she said as the car started to roll down the driveway.

  “I will not take your money. Consider it a gift.”

  “I insist, Alexei.” She folded her arms and stared at him, daring him to argue. How could she accept a gift so fine? She could not be indebted to him. Dinner was one thing, but a cashmere coat that must have cost at least five hundred dollars?

  “Very well,” he said easily. “We will set up a payment plan. One hundred of your U.S. dollars a month for the next sixty months…”

  Paige blinked. “Six thousand dollars? You spent six thousand dollars?”

  He reached out and tipped a finger under her chin. Her mouth snapped closed as she realized her jaw had been hanging open.

  “Da, but you needed a coat.”

  She started to shrug out of the garment, but he stopped her.