The Russian Seduction Read Online Free

case,” she said calmly, “I must call on you at MFA tomorrow to discuss these pressing issues. When will it be convenient for you to see me? Shall we say 10 a.m.?”
    A flicker of something—wry acknowledgement of her persistence, maybe—surfaced beneath the arctic chill of his features. Thoughtfully, he ground out his cigarette. Then, with an abruptness that disconcerted her, he pushed to his feet.
    She couldn’t help noticing the guy towered over the hapless desk, way over six feet tall. And the breadth of his chest beneath that gold-braided jacket was, admittedly, impressive. She wondered what he’d been doing on his submarine to give him that physique. This was hardly the body of a man who spent his days scowling into a periscope—or hunched over a desk at MFA, for that matter. While the suntanned skin stretched over those Slavic bones in December hinted at an outdoor man.
    Alexis cut short her wayward thoughts, every nerve tingling with wariness as he rounded the desk with the silent glide of a hunting shark. She stood her ground as he prowled toward her, surprisingly graceful for such a large man, with the athleticism she respected in her sparring partners at the dojo or the fencing salle . In the narrow confines of the library, he passed close enough to touch. If she’d wanted to touch him, which of course she didn’t.
    Still, she couldn’t help noticing how the lamplight glittered on those epaulets and the double column of gold buttons marching down his torso. Or the way the caramel-colored light picked out sun-streaks in his hair, thick enough to tempt a woman to run her fingers through it.
    And she definitely couldn’t help breathing in the fragrance exuded from his rough-shaven skin: an enticing blend of Davidoff cigarettes and the woody spice of David Beckham’s Signature cologne. It didn’t help that she was probably the only woman left on earth who actually liked the rich acrid perfume of a high-end cigarette, though she didn’t smoke herself.
    Clearly Kostenko was escalating his offensive because he hadn’t managed to pierce her composure with his pointed words. Well, if he thought she’d be intimidated by his proximity, he was destined for disappointment, because she wouldn’t show him an ounce of weakness. She stood her ground as he circled her, like a great white smelling blood in the water.
    Though she was definitely not afraid of him, she couldn’t deny being hyperaware of his every silent step. Warm breath stirred her hair and brushed her ear, making her toes curl, as he leaned in close from behind.
    “Tell me, Ms. Castle, how far will you go to accomplish your mission?”
    “What are you asking me, captain?” she countered. “Obviously, I’ll do nothing illegal, or even remotely inappropriate.”
    But her voice sounded breathless, which was unsurprising given the way her stomach was fluttering. A dead giveaway to a perceptive man, which he definitely was, that she wasn’t as firmly in control as she pretended to be.
    Now he lingered behind her, so she couldn’t see his face, and she seized the moment to shore up her defenses. But when he spoke—whisper-soft—his voice seemed thicker, his accent more pronounced, as though he too felt distracted.
    “I’ll inform my colleagues that your government is planning to demarche us about our legitimate military collaboration with Ukraine.” His breath teased her ear. “I’m able to make no guarantees, you realize. However, one might possibly avoid an official refusal…if you were to give me the relevant documents when I see you tomorrow evening.”
    A swell of satisfaction flooded through her at his apparent capitulation, even though he’d hedged his bet. But she caught her breath at his unexpected last word.
    “Tomorrow evening , captain?” She’d be squeaking in just under Geoff’s deadline, and she didn’t like cutting it that close. “Are you planning to attend the Embassy reception? We’re hosting an event for the