Prince Voronov's Virgin (6 page)

T
HE TENSION IN THE
conference room wasn’t surprising. But the tension coming from Paige Barnes was. Alexei watched her while Chad Russell spewed on and on in near flawless Russian. Since Paige didn’t understand a word that was said until Chad turned and told her to write something down in English, she spent a lot of time staring at her lap.

Alexei willed her to look at him, but she did not. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since she’d dashed from his car this morning. She was an odd woman; beautiful, but completely unaware of her beauty.

And innocent. That’s what compelled him. She reminded him of Katerina in a way. Katerina had only been seventeen when she’d died, and to the last she’d had that sweet air of innocence. Cancer and poverty had not been able to take it away.

Thinking of Katerina brought his gaze back to Chad Russell. It had been nearly fifteen years since Katerina’s death. Chad could not be blamed for his father’s cruelty, true, but Chad seemed to have shouldered the mantle of dislike his father’d had for the Voronov family. Alexei hadn’t understood until that single moment so many years ago when he’d stood before Tim Russell why the man had hated them. And though he’d known it was likely Russell’s son would follow in his father’s footsteps, Alexei still found it difficult to believe.

Chad Russell was half Voronov, after all.

Still, it made what Alexei had to do that much easier. If Chad had been likable, or friendly in any way, Alexei might have let it color his desire to destroy Russell Tech. He glanced at Paige again. Regrettable that he would need to use her in his quest, but he would make sure she was handsomely rewarded in the end. He shoved away the twinge of conscience that threatened to badger him and focused on the discussion.

Alexei watched his first cousin gesticulate in an attempt to impress Valishnikov with his plans and ideas for the Siberian land and Baltic oil wells. Chad might be half Russian, but that wouldn’t be enough to convince the old man sitting so stoically across the table. Though Chad’s mother—Alexei’s Aunt Elena—had clearly taught him the language, Chad’s father had made certain his son was one hundred percent American.

And Pyotr Valishnikov was old enough to remember what it was like to hate and distrust Americans.

Worse, Chad looked every bit the American oilman stereotype. While he’d worn a dark suit, he also sported cowboy boots and a white Stetson that now sat on the table beside him. It was the wrong impression to make on this man.

Valishnikov raised his hand suddenly to indicate he wanted silence. Chad sputtered to a halt.

“I will consider your proposals,” the old man said.
“Both
of your proposals. Now if you will excuse me, I have another meeting to attend.”

He levered his bulk out of the chair and, followed by his contingent of managers and accountants, he exited the room.

Alexei noted Chad’s reaction with interest. He seemed to fold in on himself, just for a moment, before shooting a glare at Alexei and squaring his jaw in a belligerent gesture.

“It seems as if you will be spending more time than you
bargained for in our fair country,” Alexei said in English as he rose from his seat. “Perhaps you should take some time to sightsee. St. Petersburg is particularly lovely this time of year.”

Just as he’d hoped, Paige’s head snapped up. Her smoky eyes were huge in her face. Her glasses had fallen down the bridge of her nose and she pushed them back up with a finger.

He wanted to kiss the tip of that pert nose. The thought startled him. He could not afford to feel such romantic nonsense. She was a woman, an attractive woman, and she very possibly had information he needed. That was his sole reason for being interested in her.

“I’m not going to St. Petersburg, Prince Voronov.” Chad sneered. “I’m staying right here until this deal is in the bag.”

“You will not win.”

Hatred oozed from the other man. “Don’t be too sure of that.” He turned to the woman sitting behind him. “Gather everything and meet me in the lobby. I have a phone call to make.”

“Alone at last,” Alexei said once Chad had stormed out of the conference room like a Texas whirlwind.

Paige crossed to the table, doing her best to give him the cold shoulder. “You shouldn’t be talking to me,” she said as she started to stack papers into neat piles. He did not miss that her fingers trembled.

“Why not? I like talking to you.” Oddly enough, he truly did. He shouldn’t, but she was refreshing in a way the women he usually dated were not. Still, he would not allow anything—not even her relative innocence—to interfere with his plan to ply her for information.

Her gaze snapped to his, then dropped again. A tinge of pink stained her cheeks. He liked that about her. Her long dark
hair was gathered in a ponytail, and she wore a conservative black pantsuit with a high-collared white shirt. The suit fit her well enough, but she looked like a penguin.

A penguin he wanted to unwrap. She was too staid, too stuffy. It would be a pleasure to strip her of her businesslike formality, to see the sensual woman he’d glimpsed last night when he’d kissed her in the square. Her glasses slipped down her nose as she worked. She took a moment to shove them up again before continuing with her sorting.

“I work for Chad Russell,” she said, “and I’d like to keep my job, if you don’t mind. So please don’t talk to me.”

“Why is talking to you a bad thing?” he asked, moving around the table until he stood next to her. Until he could breathe in her summery scent.

Were those peaches he smelled? Unbidden, the thought she should be dressed in warm vibrant colors like summertime filtered into his mind. Though white suited her, like snow covering a pure landscape, it did not do so when overwhelmed by so much black.

So prim, this woman. She would be a challenge, perhaps. He liked challenges, relished them. Especially when they were unexpected.

She stopped what she was doing and turned toward him. He didn’t miss the movement of her throat as she swallowed heavily. Her fingers shook where they rested on a pile of papers in midsort.

“Because I don’t like lying to my boss, and because I don’t want him to ask me anything about you—why I was talking to you, what I think of you—anything. Because talking to you tangles me in a web of lies, and I’m no good at it.”

Alexei laid his hand over hers on the papers. He affected her. And he definitely planned to use it to his advantage, to romance her, to romance any information out of her that
he could get. In war, he took no prisoners, eschewed no tactics.

He pushed aside a stab of guilt as he caressed the back of her hand. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you insane? Didn’t you hear a thing I said? I can’t have dinner with you!”

“Chad doesn’t have to know,” Alexei said, giving her hand a tug until she was flush against him. He had a sudden desperate urge to feel the warm softness of her body pressed against him again. To drown in her soft scent and softer skin.

When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip.

“Let me go,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast.

And though he didn’t want to do it, though he wanted to kiss her into compliance, he did as she asked. She immediately stepped away and put her arms around her body.

Frustration sawed into him. “I admire your loyalty to your boss, Paige, but does he also command your personal life? Is he allowed to tell you whom you may or may not see?”

A shadow crossed her face. “Of course not. But this is complicated. You’re the enemy.”

Alexei couldn’t contain a sharp laugh. He was indeed, but he didn’t want her to think so.

“You
are,”
she insisted, frowning. “To Chad, you are. And I work for him.” She took a deep breath, let it out in a long sigh. “Besides that, he’s asked my sister to marry him.”

Alexei stopped laughing. Paige swiped a hand beneath her nose and turned to the papers once more. Clearly she was hurt by this new development. And he didn’t like seeing her hurt. The change in her expression was like watching dark clouds blotting out the sun. It bothered him.

Watching her with Chad today, he could tell there was no relationship between them, no spark. It had made him absurdly happy. Yet now she was sad, and he didn’t like it.

“I’m sorry, Paige.”

She shrugged. “For what? This is a very good thing. My sister is very happy.”

“Are you?”

Her shoulders seemed to slump. Just as quickly, she straightened and turned to look at him with pride on her face. “Yes, I am. Emma is beautiful and amazing and she deserves a man like Chad.”

“And what do you deserve?”

Her lower lip trembled before her teeth stopped it. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” she said very softly.

“Do what? I am asking you a question, such as one friend asks another.”

“You aren’t my friend.”

He pressed his advantage. “Not yet. But I could be.”

She shook her head. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Prince Voronov. It’s impossible, and you know it.”

“Call me Alexei. And I can tell you what you deserve,” he continued. He knew what she needed to hear. She was a woman who didn’t believe in herself, and he was a man who was very good at saying the right things. She looked at him hopefully. He wondered if she knew she’d done so.

“You deserve to laugh,” he said quietly, seriously. “You deserve to do something for yourself instead of always doing for others. You deserve happiness, Paige, and you deserve to stop worrying about everything and let someone else worry for you. You deserve flowers every day, candlelight dinners and a man who wants you very much. You deserve everything your sister has, and more.”

Her eyes glistened. Her mouth dropped open, shut again, and he knew he’d hit the mark. Another spear of guilt shot through him. He didn’t want to like her, didn’t want to feel pleased that he’d moved her. He did what was necessary to avenge his family; he had no room for remorse.

“What makes you think I don’t do anything for myself?
A few hours acquaintance hardly qualifies you as an expert on me.”

She was defensive, and he didn’t blame her. He’d gone deep and it had to sting.

“You are an open book, Paige Barnes. I am simply reading what is written for all to see.”

Her dark eyes were wounded, as if he’d exposed the soft underbelly of her vulnerability with just a few words.

“I—I—” Whatever she was about to say was lost as her jaw snapped shut and she whirled away from him. Opening the briefcase, she shoved all the papers inside, no longer interested in order or neatness.

Alexei cursed inwardly as she jammed the lid shut and locked it. He’d gone too far, spooked her.

“I have to go,” she said without looking at him again. “Chad’s waiting for me.”

Before he could stop her, she bolted from the room. For the second time today, Paige Barnes had run away from him.

Paige threw down her pen and pushed back from the desk in her room. How could she work when all she could think of was Alexei Voronov telling her she deserved happiness and love?

Of course he hadn’t meant
he
was the man who was going to give her those things, but she’d felt as if she must look so pitifully grateful, so hopeful, that she’d reacted defensively. And when he’d called her an open book, it too eerily echoed her own thoughts. She’d suddenly felt the urgent need to escape before she embarrassed herself any further.

She was a strong woman. She’d been strong all her life, and she’d taken care of herself and her sister since their mother had died. She’d sacrificed and scraped, and she was independent and moderately successful. So why did she dissolve into
a puddle of mush around a man she barely knew? Why did he make her feel so vulnerable?

A glance at her watch told her it was nearly four in the afternoon. It felt earlier since the sun usually set so late here in the spring and summer—though you wouldn’t know it was spring with the snow outside. But her stomach growled and she realized she hadn’t eaten since grabbing a pastry and coffee this morning before going to the meeting. She thought about ordering room service, but decided that going to the hotel restaurant was a better idea.

She’d locked herself inside since she’d returned a few hours ago, and it was time to get out, among people. Perhaps then she would stop thinking so much about one Russian prince.

Chad and Emma were off somewhere, and would be spending their free time together for the rest of the time they were here. Now that Paige knew about the relationship, there was no need to keep up the pretense. Chad had apologized to her on the ride to the meeting this morning. He’d wanted to tell her, he’d said, but he hadn’t been sure she would approve.

She’d admitted that she wouldn’t have, and—without a care for possible job ramifications—had told him that if he hurt her sister, she’d gut him. He hadn’t fired her, as she’d half expected, but had instead assured her that he loved Emma and would never hurt her.

While they were at the meeting, Emma had moved her suitcases to Chad’s room.

Which left Paige alone and feeling kind of blue. Though Emma was in college, she’d continued to live at home. Paige was accustomed to having someone there. Of course she’d taken business trips before, and of course she’d stayed alone. But this trip seemed so different, and Emma’s absence so final, that it bothered her more than she’d thought it would.

Paige hadn’t changed out of her suit earlier, so she grabbed her jacket and took the elevator down to the lobby. Fifteen
minutes later, she was seated in a corner booth and contemplating the English menu a waiter had brought.

“Don’t order the
borscht,”
a deep voice said. Her head snapped up, her gaze colliding with icy gray eyes. Her pulse shot skyward.

He slid into the booth seat opposite her. “Everyone who comes to Russia orders
borscht,
but there is far more to our cuisine than cabbage.”

“What are you doing here?” Paige demanded. “Go away before you get me in trouble!”

“Do not worry, Paige. No one will see you talking to me.”

“You don’t know that,” she insisted. “What if Chad gets hungry? What if he comes in here?”