Free Behind the Palace Walls by Lynn Raye Harris

heels. In spite of the gorgeous coat, the wind went up her pant legs and chilled her from the inside out.
    Alexei leaned into the car and grabbed the shopping bag with the accessories.
    “Alexei,” she shouted over the noise as he placed the hat on her head and wrapped the scarf around her neck, “I can’t get on an airplane with you! This is insane!”
    He didn’t let go of her hand, instead tugging her into the curve of his body and wrapping an arm around her to keep her from getting too chilled.
    “It is a short flight, Paige. I’ll have you back by midnight, I promise. Put these in your pockets,” he said, handing her the gloves.
    Her pulse skidded like an out of control ice skater. What had she gotten herself into? Agreeing to go to a restaurant with him was one thing, but getting onto a plane?
    “I can’t,” she said, shaking her head frantically. They both knew she wasn’t talking about the gloves.
    He turned her and put both hands on her shoulders. Then he leaned down until his face was only inches from hers.
    “You trusted me last night,” he said, his voice soothing in spite of the fact he had to practically shout. “I’m asking you to trust me again.”

    CHAPTER FIVE

    HE WOULDN’T TELL HER where they were going, yet she’d still gotten onto the plane with him. Paige shook her head at her own folly, wondering what on earth had happened to her good sense. It had taken less than an hour for the plane to land at a different airport, but instead of getting into a car, they’d boarded a helicopter.
    It wasn’t her first helicopter ride, but it was certainly the most luxurious. The inside of the craft looked like a custom yacht, all white leather and sleek wood. Beside her, Alexei was on the phone. He’d taken at least six calls since she’d climbed into the car with him outside the hotel.
    But then, that’s what multimillionaire—or billionaire—tycoons did. They made deals over the phone, bought and sold entire companies and transferred millions of dollars, or rubles as the case may be, with aplomb.
    It was a world far outside her realm, in spite of the last few days as Chad’s executive secretary.
    Alexei tucked the phone back into his pocket. “I am sorry for the interruptions,” he said.
    Paige shrugged. “It’s okay,” she replied. “There’s a lot at stake.”
    His gaze sharpened as he studied her. “Yes, there is. And I intend to win, Paige.”
    A shiver skidded through her. She hadn’t been referring to any one deal in particular, but clearly the Valishnikov acquisition was the subject of his many calls. Apprehension was a tight ball in her stomach as she thought of her boss back in Moscow. “So does Chad.”
    He looked out the window behind her as the helicopter began to bank. “Look.”
    She turned to where he’d pointed, her breath catching in her throat. She felt him move behind her on the luxurious leather bench, felt his solid body pressing against hers. It was intimate, casual, but she burned nonetheless.
    Below, the land unfolded itself in a crystalline white blanket. A rich green and white palace sat in the center of the covering. Six massive white columns fronted the building, and ornate friezes clad in gold surrounded each of the myriad windows across the three-level facing. The domes of a small church nearby were a muted gold, though she imagined they would glint in the sun, while white trees reached with bare arms to the dull sky.
    Alexei’s arm was on her shoulder, his cheek near her other ear as he leaned in and pointed. “It is the Voronov Palace,” he said, “built in the early eighteenth century. Look there, at the fountain. It was a gift from Tsar Peter the Great.”
    The fountain in the front courtyard seemed made of gold, its cherubs and mythical creatures frozen in time, waiting for some sign only they knew in order to step down from their perches and frolic in the courtyard.
    The Voronov Palace was fairy tale beautiful, and she felt completely out