Lie to Me (20 page)

Grigoriy moved first. Nearly leaping to her side, he passed her a beer and grabbed a plate from the cabinet. She gave him a smile as he put a wrapped burger and a packet of fries on it, then pushed the plate beneath her nose.

A little part of Alexei shouted in triumph as Sasha turned her back on Grigoriy and settled into the cushions beside Alexei. That same part set off all his other cautionary instincts. He was falling hard, and that meant devastation. He needed to distance himself, even if it meant giving Grigoriy the opportunity to step into the middle of this, whatever it was.

“So why the hotel change?” Grigoriy asked.

Alexei got up and helped himself to a plate of food. “Kadir was tracking her,” he explained as he took a seat in the chair opposite the sofa. Deliberately avoiding too-intimate eye contact with Sasha, he focused on his partner. “The device was in her shoe. I crushed it before we came here.”

Grigoriy paused, his burger lifted partway to his mouth. “Bastard. Was it Opal design?”

Alexei nodded, all too aware of the intense way Sasha studied him, the questions registering in the slight downturn of her brow.
Distance.
She was a mission. Once her father and she were reunited, things would return to normal, and she would never learn the secrets that kept him from looking in the mirror.

He could not let her into his heart.

“Yeah, it was ours.”

A low, threatening growl rumbled in the back of Grigoriy’s throat. Alexei knew that sentiment. It was one thing to be betrayed. Another to have the tools that bound the Opals together used against them. That bordered on treason.

“Is that today’s paper?” Sasha asked as she left the couch and crossed to the countertop. She plucked the folded paper from beneath the bag of food, returned to the sofa, and unfolded it on the coffee table.

“London’s. Had to wrestle three men and sweet talk an old lady for it.” Grigoriy flashed her a grin.

Front and center, the bold headline read, nobel laureate’s daughter found. Beneath the large block letters was a full color photograph of her father shaking Hughes’s hand. Alexei couldn’t stomach the picture. He looked away, out the window, his throat inching closed at the heavy realization that in a handful of days, he would let Sasha walk away forever.

S
asha stared at her father’s photograph. His smiling face made her nauseous. She’d spent twenty-eight years with the man, and not once had he ever legitimately smiled. At most, the corners of his eyes crinkled. But happiness just didn’t ever make it to his mouth.

The picture was fake. Deceitful. Just like everything else he was. Everything he stood for. What would the Nobel Committee say if they knew Yakiv Zablosky used his great scientific mind to arm terrorists? What would the world think of the scientist who helped engineer a cure for HIV, if they knew the biochemical genius had arranged for the death of his own son?

What would Alexei say if he knew Yakiv wanted her back just so he could kill her?

Tearing her eyes off her father, Sasha tossed back the last of her beer to stop the burn of heartache before it could swamp her. She’d only ever wanted her father’s love. Only ever wanted to please him. All he’d ever seen her as was a means to an end. A tool to implement at the appropriate time. Just like her brother had been. He had paid the price of defying their father as well. She hadn’t known it then, but she knew it now.

A chill crept into her bones. Her father was a despicable man, not worthy to shake the MI6 agent’s hand, let alone garner international sympathy for his supposed loss. Right about now, she’d give all she owned in this world, all she’d owned as Saeed’s trusted friend, to feel Alexei’s arms around her. When he held her, for a little while, she could forget the things she’d done for her father. The things he’d given her no choice in.

She rose to her feet, stretching, her body still tired from the workout Alexei had put her through. A yawn bubbled. At the same time, Grigoriy sprawled out on the neighboring sofa, his long rangy frame unfolding so his ankles rested on one armrest, his head on the opposite.

Sasha cast a questioning glance at Alexei. “I think I’m going to go back to bed.”
Please come with me.

He answered with a brief nod, his gaze never meeting hers.

Okay. So these were the rules then. Nothing but polite indifference in front of his partner. Message received, loud and clear.

Ignoring the pang of regret that stabbed between her ribs, she returned to the bedroom alone. But the inviting softness of the large bed did nothing to balm the longing in her heart. She wanted Alexei. Needed his kiss to erase the images of her father’s face. Needed his body to warm the parts of her that had turned to ice.

A
lexei stared at the droning television, working on his second beer while Grigoriy tossed and turned, generally trying to get comfortable on the too-small sofa. Alexei burned for Sasha. And yet he was already too close. Close enough to something he craved more than life itself, something that he could never have. Forcing himself to ignore her tempting presence, to resist the siren call of her supple curves and silky-soft mouth, was the only way he could deal with turning her over to her father.

“Would you shut that shit off?” Grigoriy pulled his forearm away from his eyes and glared at Alexei. “You might have slept all day, but some of us weren’t that damned lucky.”

Alexei grunted but turned the volume down on the television anyway.

“C’mon, man, I fed you, I brought you beer. Turn off that strobe light and let me sleep.” Grigoriy tossed onto his side. “Go play with your little kitten.”

The last thing Alexei needed was a reminder of fucking Sasha. If he went in that bedroom now, he’d be right back in that bed, slamming home until delirium set in. He took a long pull off his beer, ignored Grigoriy, and stared at the show he wasn’t watching. Every Opal knew how to force sleep when they could grab it. His partner could deal.

Throwing his long legs onto the floor, Grigoriy sat up and leveled Alexei with a hard stare. “Thirty seconds, or I’m taking that bed.”

Evidently his partner
couldn’t
deal. Alexei eyed Grigoriy, trying to
determine through the scowl if this was another challenge designed to goad him, or if Grigoriy would make himself comfortable with Sasha, uninvited or not. It took less than three seconds to realize, yes, he would.

Fine, he’d give Grigoriy quiet—even if that selfless act condemned Alexei to a worse hell than fire and brimstone.

He flipped off the television, pushed out of the chair, and stalked to the bedroom.

Inside, he found Sasha sprawled on her belly on the bed, the tail of his shirt dusting the tops of her toned buttocks. Her head rested on folded arms, and her eyelashes drooped lazily. Not asleep. Thoughtfully watching him enter.

Against his will, Alexei’s gaze skimmed up the length of her exposed legs, from the delicate arch of her bare foot, across the bruised and swollen skin around her ankle, to the flimsy scrap of white satin that peeked from between her parted legs. Fighting down the fiery urge to mount her from behind and fuck that dainty little ass she offered up so prettily, he swallowed a groan and stabbed his thumb on the television’s power button. Blessed noise filled the room, a low rumble he didn’t have to listen to but that blocked out the hum of sexual awareness.

He crossed to the opposite side of the bed, fluffed the pillow against the headboard, and sat down, stretching his legs out in front of him. If he didn’t speak, maybe she’d…hell, he didn’t know what she might do, or what he
wanted
her to do. But right about now if she disappeared, he’d seriously consider restoring his faith in a higher power.

Sasha rolled over, propped her head up on one elbow. “Who do you work for, Alexei?”

That was certainly the last question he’d ever prepared for. Chancing a glance at her upturned face, he debated how to answer. She’d told him she worked for FSB; she undoubtedly knew he was an American agent—virtually all of Dubai knew. But tell her about the Opals? Let her
in
?

What the hell. They’d already named themselves in front of her. She knew their director’s name. He stared at the television as he answered, “A special division within the CIA known as the Black Opals. We’re the ones they send when it’s real dicey and they need to delete someone with the press of a button.”

“Delete?”

More quietly he added, “We don’t exist.”

He crossed opposite ankles and folded his hands behind his head, leaning back against the headboard. Waiting for her to make the association between his vague explanation and the truth of his work. When she did, shock would stop her questions.

Instead, Sasha’s palm fitted over his belly, gentle sweeping motions that offered more comfort than Alexei had known could exist. “Isn’t that…difficult?” she asked softly.

“Difficult? The missions are never ea—”

“No. Not existing.” That delightful little palm slid higher, caressing the lower part of his chest. “I mean, don’t you ever crave
life
? The simple things like owning a house and paying someone to rake your leaves.” The heel of her palm worked into his tense muscles. “Like sleeping in on a Saturday and having breakfast in bed.”

More than she could understand. He tensed. She was getting too close, treading too far into murky waters he didn’t want to disturb.

Dropping to an almost inaudible whisper, her voice washed over his body. “Have you ever been in love, Alexei?”

Danger.
Combustion imminent.
Alexei covered the sudden trip of his heart with a harsh chuckle. “Love’s not an option in my line of work, princess.”

She was silent for a blissful moment, leaving him with the conclusion he’d scared her off. As luck would have things, however, when she did speak, she didn’t traipse around
uncomfortable
, she plunged in headfirst. “You only call me princess when I’ve hit a nerve. So tell me, Agent Nikanova, are you afraid of the fall, or afraid of the loss?”

The loss.
The disappointment.
The failure.
Alexei clenched his teeth
together so tightly the muscles in his left cheek cramped. Grimacing, he rubbed the tender spot. “I told you, it’s not an option.”

Sasha shook her head. “It’s always an option. You just have to find someone brave enough to take the risk with you.” Her hand slipped down the center of his body and came to rest over his semi-erect cock. “Someone who can handle the man behind the job.”

Against Alexei’s better judgment, he slid his gaze sideways to meet hers. One corner of his mouth pulled in a sardonic smirk. “I suppose you think you can?” Damn, he hadn’t meant for that to sound like a challenge, but the flash in her blue eyes said she’d taken it that way.

“I’m willing to have you prove me wrong.” She stroked his cock through the fabric of his pants. “I bet you run first.”

Christ Almighty, she didn’t have the first clue. If he took that leap, he wouldn’t be the one running. She would. Tail between her legs, begging for her freedom, she’d run.

It took all his self-control to resist accepting her dare just to prove how wrong she was, and instead capture her wandering hand. He plucked it off his body and pushed it against her hip. “Let’s not kid ourselves, princess. The chemistry’s incredible, but that’s all it is. Nothing’s changed, Sasha, other than we’ve fucked a little more. I’m still taking you to your father, and this still ends when we get to London.”

He wanted to kick himself for the millisecond of pain that registered in her azure stare. Goddamn it, he didn’t want to hurt her. But it was better this way. Keep her at bay, keep the barriers clear. Never let her know how much he wanted her.

His voice lowered as emotion threatened to override the harsh reality. “Let’s not complicate this more with fantasy.”

Before she could witness how telling her no ate him up inside, he fixed his stare on the television and flipped the channel with the remote.
Distance.
The lies would keep him safe.

S
asha tried to pretend Alexei’s rejection didn’t sting. Truth was, it hurt more than it should have. She’d known, even in Moscow, he wasn’t the kind of man a girl could hold on to. But between then and now, reality became mired in the confusion of intimacy. She knew Alexei felt something for her. Something more than incredible chemistry. And the part of her that demanded he face that truth wanted to crawl onto his lap and dare him to cling to that fallacy when his cock was buried to the hilt inside her.