Pairing Off (Red Hot Russians #1) Read Online Free Page B

purse.
    Ten minutes felt like an hour. Not a single cab went by. The scorching, late afternoon rays beat down; her bare upper arms tingled with the start of a sunburn. Where was the Vomit Comet when she needed it?
    Then, a sleek black Audi pulled up. The trunk popped open. The window lowered. It was Anton. “Get in.”
    Get in?
Could he possibly be any ruder? “I am perfectly capable—”
    “Of what? Sitting here all afternoon? You’ll never find cab.” Shaking his head, he got out. “In Moscow, you need ride, you wave down car and someone stops. We’ll pretend you did this and I stopped.” He extended the handle on her biggest suitcase and rolled it to the car. “Are you only going to sit while I load?”
    She almost told him not to bother. Riding to the airport with him, after what just happened, would be beyond awkward. If he pressed, how could she justify her refusal to skate with him? With a stroll down Amsterdam’s memory lane? By explaining the lingering Cold War prejudice among her father’s constituents? Both sounded awful. But she was exhausted, starving and almost out of cash. At least he knew enough English to understand “Slow down!”
    When everything was loaded, she climbed in and let the soft leather seat cup her tired body. The air-conditioning blew out welcome coolness. This car was as nice as Dad’s, except Anton’s stereo played droning Euro-punk rather than the Eagles or Fleetwood Mac. Without a word, he got in and slammed the door.
    “You can drop me at Dovo-dah-domo Airport,” she said.
    He reached for his seat belt. “It’s Domodedovo. And if you think I’m taking you there, you’re crazy.”
    She sat up as he pulled away from the curb, trapping her. She’d heard about things like this happening to lone American women traveling abroad. He might have ties to the Russian mafia. They could ransom her for millions, though who knew if her family would cough up the cash. “You’re not kidnapping me, are you?”
    He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Did you think you would just walk in and catch plane home? You would wait all night with your suitcases. Perfect person to rob. Galina arranged apartment for you. It has bed. I’m taking you there.”
    Outrage danced on the tip of her tongue. Then she realized what he meant. A bed. A quiet, safe place to sleep where she wouldn’t have to spend the night guarding her purse and skates. Frayed nerves and exhaustion raised a lump in her throat. She swallowed it and blinked to clear her stinging eyes. “
Spasibo
,” she whispered.
    He gave a curt nod and turned up the music.
    The warehouse district around the rink gave way to a picturesque neighborhood of painted brick three-and four-story buildings. Cafés, shops, bars and even a McDonald’s were sandwiched in between. She glanced over at the scenery inside the car. Anton had been handsome at seventeen, but as a grown man, he was a work of art. His hair was longer than it had been at Worlds, and it framed his face in lustrous brown waves. His features were beautifully proportioned, high cheekbones, eyes with a subtle Eastern tilt, straight nose and an alluring, kissable swell in his bottom lip. His snug, cream-colored shirt hugged his biceps, nicely displaying golden skin and muscular arms.
    She’d never forgotten how it felt to be cradled in those strong arms, or his gentle caress as he’d gazed down at her in the dark. How long had it been since anyone had held her that way, or smiled as if she was the most important thing in the world? And the question he’d asked in sweet, broken English.
Did I make you hurt?
    The answer had truly mattered to him. Her boyfriend back in Sweetspire wouldn’t have thought to ask. Wouldn’t have cared. Neither would Cody, nor the handful of men she’d been with since.
    But Anton had cared. And she’d never forgotten...just like she’d never forgotten him.
    He, on the other hand, didn’t seem to remember at all. Their paths had crossed a few times last