Free The Russian Seduction by Nikki Navarre Page A

to lose it completely.
    And that had never happened before, couldn’t be allowed to happen now, here, with him. Steps away from the Winter Garden where her boss, her colleagues and half the diplomatic community were sandwiched together, barely entertained by the same tired dialogue, the same rote phrases, the same plastic smiles that kept the gears greased among countries that barely understood each other. Anyone could come blundering through that door—a door that didn’t lock.
    “Christ,” Kostenko groaned, letting her up for air. Breathing heavily, she was gratified to see, as he leaned his forehead against the wall.
    Still clinging to his jacket, pinned against his body, Alexis struggled to pull herself together. Knowing she’d collapse if he backed away now. Still, this had to stop.
    “Captain,” she breathed, lips moist and tingling from that amazing kiss. “Let me go.”
    He chuffed out a breath that might have been amusement. “I think you can call me Victor now, if you can bring yourself to it, Ms. Castle.”
    “Actually…” She sounded winded, damn it. “I’m not sure we should go there. This, um, kiss was a one-time thing.”
    “Is that your government’s position, Counselor?” he said huskily, raising his head. A fine sheen of perspiration glittered on his brow, and she knew her silk camisole was clinging damply to her breasts. “The Russian side has a different perspective. Let’s go someplace private, and finish what we’ve started.”
    God, that sounded good to her—and she was out of her mind. She uttered a laugh of sheer disbelief. OK, let’s focus on the practical.
    “Where would you suggest we go, captain? It’s three o’clock in the afternoon! It’s not like we can just saunter across the compound to my place.”
    Comprehension sharpened his gaze, breaking through the smolder of passion. And he had to know her people weren’t the only obstacle to this ill-advised fling. He’d know, though she couldn’t say it, that her townhouse was bugged by the Russians.
    “We can’t go to my flat either,” he admitted. Because of course the Russians bugged their own officials too, their suspicions being universal. “I know how to switch it off, but it isn’t advisable.”
    “In fact, captain—”
    “Call me Victor, for Christ’s sake,” he said irritably.
    “Very well, if you insist on it. Ah, Victor…” Another intimacy, saying his name like that, and it had to be the last one. “The fact is, there’s nowhere in Moscow the two of us can possibly go.”
    “This is untrue. We’re going,” he told her calmly, the bloody tyrant. His entire crew must have been galley slaves. “We’ll discuss the particulars in the car.”
    “We need to discuss the particulars now!” Fueled by caution, still turned on as hell, she gathered her legs beneath her and scrambled away from him. There was no way she could possibly regain the initiative while her head was full of Beckham and the scent of her own arousal. “On second thought, let’s just forget it. This encounter was a mistake, so there’s really nothing to discuss.”
    Pushing a hand through his blond hair, he locked in on her skittish gaze and hoisted his brows. “You do realize that I’m not leaving this room until you agree to accompany me. Yes?”
    “No,” she said stubbornly, putting the conference table between them. “This entire discussion is ridiculous. I’m not an ensign on your submarine, Captain Kostenko! I don’t have to salute you and say yes, sir .”
    “Don’t get excited, Ms. Castle,” he drawled, all arrogance. “You can tell your superiors that you’re cultivating me. That I’m resentful of the system that took my boat away. That you think you can turn me.”
    “I’m not an intelligence operative,” she countered, with a glance toward the door. Although of course the bug was in the light fixture. “It’s not my job to turn you.”
    “But they’ll want to use you anyway.” He met her gaze