The Lion in Russia Read Online Free

two-dollar
pistol. She could just feel when he was in the room.
    Unfortunately for her current plans Leo was
nowhere to be found. Deringer was another one who it was impossible
to miss, but for an entirely different reason. Oh, he too was
hotter than the hinges of hell, but Vries had never felt any type
of sexual pull toward him. Apparently she was the only woman in the
room who felt that way. He untangled himself from yet another
encounter with an impossibly gorgeous woman. He’d been doing that
all night, and she was beginning to wonder why. It just wasn’t like
Dare to turn down no-strings-attached sex. She watched him approach
her. A white dinner jacket was pretty much standard in this crowd,
but on him it took even the most expensive label to a new level,
add his unique hairstyle and he drew eyes everywhere he went. Not
surprising. She’d met him when he worked undercover as a model more
than a dozen years ago. She looked around the room again. Damnit,
no Leo.
    She sighed as she took the glass of champagne
Deringer offered. “Thanks,” she said after taking a grateful sip.
She was parched.
    “Doesn’t look like your boy is coming,”
Deringer said as he took up a position beside her. He stood close
enough to portray the look of an ardent suitor, but not so close as
to intimate a consummated affair.
    “He’ll be here. Gianni is one of his best
friends. He wouldn’t miss his party.”
    “I don’t know why you couldn’t just call him
up and tell him you’re ready to go to bed with him.”
    Vries rolled her eyes. “Because I’m not a
Bond girl.”
    “Pity.”
    “It’s a good thing you’re so pretty.
Otherwise I don’t know how you would ever get a date. That’s not
how it’s done, you have to...” She broke off, surprised by the
sudden grimness of his expression. Before she could question him a
sudden awareness washed over her. Leo is here, her spidey
senses were telling her. She moved closer to Deringer who
immediately picked up on her movement and leaned in as though
whispering sweet nothings in her ear.
    “He’s dead ahead at high noon, sweetheart.
Looking daggers at us,” Deringer said in not quite a whisper.
    Vries followed Dare’s gaze and locked onto
the glacial gray of Leo’s eyes. Deringer was right; he did look
pissed. She took a deep breath as she forced herself to maintain
control when deep inside she had to admit the man scared the living
hell out of her. He began moving toward them with a calm
deliberation that reminded of a scene from Jaws . For a
fanciful moment she even thought she heard the shark’s theme music
as Leo cut a swathe through the crowd with the single-mindedness of
an apex predator, his gaze never leaving hers as she stared,
mesmerized and captured in his thrall. She was being stalked and
though she should be terrified, every nerve ending in her body
tingled in anticipation. Desperately longing to know what he would
do. Knowing what she wanted him to do. Even simple autonomic
responses like breathing seemed unnecessary and she just stood
there waiting for him to reach her side. When he took her in his
arms she responded immediately to the warm embrace. His mouth took
hers like a conquering warrior all soft tongue and firm lips
refusing to accept or even consider anything but her complete
surrender. Not that she was capable of anything else. He tasted
just as she’d always imagined he would, masculine and woodsy,
almost smoky though she knew he didn’t use tobacco. It was the way
he smelled too, making him distinctive in a room full of men
wearing expensive designer fragrances Leo smelled only like
himself, and her entire being absorbed the aroma wanting to
synthesize it into her own DNA.
    It wasn’t until he raised his head that she
realized that a minor hush had fallen over their little corner of
the room. At the moment she didn’t care. Instead she stared into
his eyes, which were usually a soft gray, but right now his pupils
were so dilated that his eyes were