Charade (23 page)

The teenager glanced at the fortress again, her blue eyes clouded with concern. Then she turned back to Jeff and told him with a wistful smile, “I want to go home as soon as possible.
But not without Sasha.
So let’s do what’s best for
her,
okay?”

“V lad!
Wait!
”

“I cannot wait. You are too beautiful,” the dictator declared, clawing at the front of Sasha’s gown while his body pinned her hips to the wall of his bedroom.

She fought to maintain some shred of control. “I want this as much as you do. Maybe even more! But you’re scaring me—”

“I am impatient. It is my only flaw.” He gave her a lascivious grin. “It is also the quality that made Kestonia great overnight. I am certain you will enjoy it if you relax—”

“Fine, but first…” Sasha wriggled free and reminded him, “I’ve been planning this for weeks, remember? It’s the reason I traveled all this way.
To seduce you.”
With an offended pout, she added unhappily, “At least allow me that illusion.”

She could see he was annoyed, but she forged ahead anyway, flashing a hopeful smile. “I spent fifteen hundred dollars on the sexy lingerie I’m wearing under this gown.
All for you.
So I could dance for you. Undress for you. Drive you wild with desire. Is that so wrong?”

Vlad eyed her for a moment,
then
gave a defeated laugh. “You have intrigued me with this talk. And so you may indulge your fantasy. But do not keep me waiting forever.”

“Five minutes,” she promised, stepping up to him and running her finger under the satin lapel of his tuxedo jacket. She didn’t need to feign the purr in her voice as she fingered the fabric. It was simply the most stunning men’s wear she had ever seen, let alone touched, in her life. Finely tailored, of jet-black supersoft wool, it fit Vlad’s broad chest and shoulders perfectly, and she suspected that his pleated shirt of white silk would be equally exquisite.

Sasha credited this tuxedo with the romantic performance she had been able to give at the gala. Even though most of her brain had been focused on Teal’s rescue, the designer in her had mentally drooled over Vlad because of his outfit. And he had seemed equally enchanted by her traditional gown, so much so that as they strolled from the ballroom to his suite, she had been certain she had the situation under control.

Right up to the moment when he had rammed her against the wall!

Determined not to make any more miscalculations, she carefully removed his jacket and laid it on a bench at the foot of the bed. Then she unfastened the pearl buttons of his shirt, sighing with every glimpse of his strong, hairy chest. Finally, she pushed him back until he was seated on the mattress, then she knelt and unlaced his shoes and pulled them off.

“Now sit back and watch me,” she ordered him playfully, backing away until she had reached a built-in wet bar along the side of the room, where she switched on a sound system that began playing one of the waltzes that had filled the air at the gala. Delighted, she turned back to him, and as he watched, his eyes dark with fascination, she ran her fingers over her bodice and around to the back of her gown, then slowly unzipped it, all the while eyeing him with exaggerated innocence.

When she allowed the gown to slip to the floor, revealing a ruffled black petticoat and sexy strapless corset, she could see Vlad was about to jump off the bed and attack her again, so she held up her hand to stop him.

“Silly me.
I almost forgot your drink! No wonder you’re so impatient.” Turning to the bar, she swayed her hips to the music, hoping that her movements would hold his interest as she covertly retrieved a capsule from her evening bag and broke it open over a crystal flute—one of a pair that had been set out, presumably for their tryst. Filling both from the champagne bottle chilling nearby in a bucket, she brought the one laced with knockout powder to Vlad.

Retreating quickly again for fear he’d make another grab for her, she winced when he set his drink on the nightstand without taking even one sip. She didn’t dare make a fuss about it for fear of arousing his suspicions, so she forced herself to smile and continue dancing while also taking a small sip of her own drink to set a good example. But her date clearly wasn’t interested in anything except Sasha’s half-naked body.

Chagrined but still smiling, she unhooked her petticoat and let it float to the floor, uncovering black panties, a lacy garter belt and sheer stockings. She removed the stockings slowly, her gaze always fixed on her prey, willing him silently to take a taste of his champagne.

Make him drink it!
she
ordered herself nervously.
You’re going to run out of clothes pretty soon. Then what?

She was grateful at least that he seemed to finally be relaxing, settling back against the pillows, signaling that he wasn’t going to pounce on her, at least for the moment. Still, she didn’t dare drag this out too long.

It occurred to her that she could just grab the champagne bottle and clobber him with it. Given his relaxed attitude, she might actually be able to execute such a move. But she couldn’t be sure. He hadn’t gotten to this point in his career by being careless or unwary, had he?

Seduction still seemed like her best weapon, so she began to loosen the hairpins that held her braid in place. Unwinding the long tresses as she danced, she sifted her fingers through them until the locks draped softly over her chest all the way to her waist. Then she let out a quick breath, flashed another, more provocative smile and unlaced the corset, which she removed and let drop to the floor.

Her hair partially concealed her bare breasts, although the tips of her nipples were visible, and Vlad’s stare was so focused on them, she was surprised they didn’t melt from the heat. Nervous but hopeful, she took her champagne glass from the sideboard and danced over to him, then held the flute forward in a toasting gesture and murmured, “To us. May tonight be filled with
magic.
”

To Sasha’s relief, Vlad retrieved his glass from the nightstand and touched it to hers, but when she took a long sip, he turned his attention back to her breasts. His breath was so ragged she could hear it, and she knew she was out of time, so she held up her glass in toast again and exclaimed, “To the passion of a thousand stallions!” Then she gulped the rest of her drink and hurled the flute against the bedroom wall where it shattered wildly.

A huge grin spread across Vlad’s face and he drained his glass as Sasha had done, then flung it against the same wall. Even as it crashed, he grabbed Sasha and threw her onto the bed, then mounted her while crowing, “You will now see why my people both love and fear me!”

Sasha screamed out loud, terrified and disoriented by the fact that he was unaffected by the powder. Should she have used two capsules? He was so much larger than she—why had she assumed that the dose that had knocked her out would do the same to a muscular, six-foot-two warrior?

His hands were pawing her bare breasts while his mouth covered hers.
Dominated hers.
Then without warning his body went completely limp, crushing her under its lifeless weight.

For a moment, she just lay there, struggling to catch a breath.
To gather her thoughts.
To reassure
herself
that it had really worked. Then she rolled him off her and tried to remember what she was supposed to do next.

The key card…

Still shaky, she crawled to the foot of the bed and grabbed his jacket. No longer enchanted by the fine garment, she rifled through it. There was no key card, but she did find a pill bottle in the inside pocket. According to the label, it was a prescription for Nikko.

For an erectile dysfunction drug.

Well, that explains the urgency. Not to mention, the guided missile,
she complained to the sleeping man.
I wonder if the knockout powder will get rid of that, too. Otherwise, you might still have it when you wake up.

Genuinely smiling for the first time since they’d reached the bedroom, she rolled him over and checked his pants pockets, amused by the persistent bulge that was impossible to ignore. Unfortunately, the key card wasn’t there, so she moved to his dresser, and then into the small office that adjoined the bedroom.

His computer was there, and while the screen was black, she thought she heard a soft whir from the processor unit so she touched the keyboard and an e-mail display appeared before her.

No password? That’s the kind of impatience that’s going to destroy Kestonia overnight,
she warned Vlad with a laugh, although she knew that security for his room was usually so tight, the computer simply wasn’t at risk.

But tonight was different. Nikko was off somewhere marrying Niski, and Vlad had ordered his men not to disturb him until dawn, when he needed to be awakened for the demolition of the old church.

Even if Vlad had lied to her and there was actually a guard at the door, Sasha knew she could use her final knockout capsule on him, offering him a glass of champagne then moving his collapsed body into the room for the night. The idea of humiliating poor Nikko hadn’t appealed to her, but drugging a strange guard was different. It would be a gentle fate compared to the one that she and her associates would inflict on anyone else who tried to stop them at the lab or at the border.

Even if Jeff had to carry Teal, they’re probably at the lab by now, so get back to work,
she ordered herself, pawing through the desk drawer in search of the key card. To her relief, it was there, and she was about to go back to the bedroom to get dressed and then get out of there when a dinging sound from the computer told her Vlad had just received an e-mail.

“At this hour?
On the night of the gala?”
Sasha sat at the desk and clicked the mouse, opening a message from an address composed completely of numbers. But the body of the message was in English, and its contents were disconcerting at best.

Be warned. One of your guests—the one named Sasha Bracciali—is working for the NSA. She has come to rescue the girl. Stop her, or all of our hard work will be for naught.—A

“Tattletale,” Sasha scolded the sender. Then she reached over to turn on a nearby printer, but before she could make a copy of the message, tiny virtual spiders began crawling all over it, erasing the words as they moved until nothing was left.

“Cute trick, A.
I guess there’s no point in looking for other messages from you. It doesn’t matter anyway. I
am
going to rescue the girl. And all of your hard work
will
be for naught. So you lose.
Buh-bye.”

Jumping to her feet, she returned to the bedroom and located a sheet of latex in her evening bag. After making an impression of Zelasko’s palm, she used the NSA pen to transfer the code sequence from the key card to her credit card,
then
she returned the card to his desk. Finally, she dressed herself in the gold brocade gown without bothering with any underwear. Instead, she scooped up her expensive lingerie and sprinkled it all over the bed and its occupant.

You look like you had a great night, Generalissimo. Maybe when they wake you up at dawn, you’ll actually think you had wild sex with me! Unless the ED drug is still working, in which case, you’ll just be in terrible pain. What a shame.

Laughing, she patted his cheek, then she moved to the wet bar to prepare the final glass of knockout champagne.

There was no guard at the door, but Sasha carried the glass with her back to her room just in case she ran into anyone suspicious. Fortunately, the halls were relatively empty. That is, until she ran into Svetlina and two gentlemen admirers, all of
whom
had clearly had too much to drink.

“I am so perfect in this gown,” Vlad’s sister told Sasha. “I was the most beautiful woman at the gala.”

“I agree.”

“I am grateful to you.”

Sasha smiled.
“The perfect dress for the perfect woman.
A designer’s
dream come
true.” When Svetlina frowned, Sasha added quickly, “That was a compliment.”

“To you?
Or to me?” the major demanded.

“To you, of course.”

“Good.” She frowned again. “Where is my brother? I did not know he would allow you away from his sights.”

“He enjoyed attacking me in this gown. Now I’m going to change into something sexier for him.” Sasha gave her a conspiratorial smile. “He’s so impatient, though. I’d better hurry or he’ll send his soldiers after me to drag me back to his bed.”

“He is impatient,” Svetlina agreed. Then she reached for the arms of her two escorts and said with a sly laugh, “It is our family curse to have this appetite. We must all have sex right away. We will see you again.
At midnight.”

“Midnight?
I don’t think Vlad and I will be done by then.”

Svetlina’s hand flew to her mouth. “I have forgotten. It is your surprise.”

“Pardon?”

“To see the church burst away. Vlad has decided that midnight is more—
What
is the word?
Dramatical?
Yes, more dramatical than dawn. Do not tell him I have spoken of it to you. He believed you would be pleased by the lights and the noise.”

“I won’t say a word,” Sasha promised. “You and your friends better get busy if you only have two hours. See you at midnight.”

She hurried down the hall to her room, chagrined to know that Vlad’s men would come for him at midnight rather than at dawn. Surely they would realize that their leader had been drugged, and they’d sound an alarm that would extend to the border.

The plan called for you to get Teal out of Kestonia by midnight anyway,
she reminded herself.
But it would be nice to have some wiggle room. Plus, it’ll make it more challenging when you come back for the Butcher.

She couldn’t afford to worry about that yet, so she concentrated on changing into black jeans and a heather-gray Henley top. She had sent her only pair of tennis shoes with Jeff, so she stuffed her sturdy Kestonian oxfords into the pockets of her long wool coat along with her passport, then put on a pair of black high heels that were so sexy, anyone who saw her would assume she was returning to Vlad for more lovemaking. Once she reached the door to the garden she could ditch the heels in favor of the oxfords.