Misha pushed his hands through his hair in frustration, having just completed his tenth interview of the day. An ad had been placed in the local paper for a Russian tutor and, so far, he had interviewed three lecherous men, and two older women who were more interested in meeting Dmitry and Alexey than they were in becoming Russian tutors.

“Mrs. Rusnik, how many more of these are scheduled?” Misha called from the door of his office.

“Just one more, Misha. Not going well?” Mrs. Rusnik asked trying to hide her grin behind a fake cough.

Misha snorted, “You’ve seen the people that have come in here. What do you think?”

Mrs. Rusnik made a “tsking” sound and shook her head, “Well, this is the last one we have. I’ll have Sergei send her up.”

Misha rolled his eyes.
Not another woman who has dollar signs in her eyes, please!

Misha sat behind his desk, doodling on the tablet in front of him while he awaited the next unsuitable candidate to arrive. Surely there was one normal person in St. Petersburg who could speak both English and Russian and wouldn’t mind instructing two American women.

Maybe he should have finished out his commission in the Russian Army. At least when he’d been commanding his troops he’d known what to expect. And he’d gotten it too! He’d only opted out two months early, and at the time it had seemed like the right thing to do. DAV Mining was embarking on a joint venture with an American mining company in South Africa.

Both of his cousins, the other heads of the company, were getting married in a few weeks, and he had felt needed in the office, rather than on the training fields of northern Russia. As winter had approached, he had been more than grateful to be working indoors and not in sub-freezing temperatures.

That was until he had volunteered to find his future sisters-in-law a Russian tutor.
Maybe he should assign Mrs. Rusnik to do the next round of interviews?

When his door opened, he put off looking up as long as he could and then slowly raised his eyes, expecting to see something similar to the last few women to grace his doorway.

His eyes travelled up long legs encased in khaki green pants. Long legs that ended at a trim waist showing the barest hint of skin between where they began and her shirt ended. A very trim waist.

His eyes made a leisurely climb up over her torso, which was encased in a black t-shirt that molded to her curves like a second skin. She was curvy in all the right places and his body was definitely paying attention by this time.

Raising his eyes to her face, he tried to hide the shock he knew must be marking his features. He knew those features intimately. The pixie nose, the long lashes, the brown doe eyes that darkened when she was aroused. Her cheeks were more pronounced than before, and she had the faintest circles beneath her eyes, but both of those could be tricks of the light.

He let his eyes skim over her hair. Almost white it was so blonde and cut to frame her face, curling slightly at the ends. It was slightly longer than the last time he had seen her, but still long enough for him to bury his hands in.
While you bury other parts of your body elsewhere!

Clamping down on his rising libido, he adopted an uncaring expression and waited for her to speak.
I wonder if the sound of her voice will have the same ability to stir me up as it had in the past.

He waited another space of several breaths and then watched as she opened her mouth, smiling as her husky greeting floated across his desk to him, “Hello, Misha. Long time no see.”

Yep! His body still reacted just like a trained dog! Damn it, what was Jasmine doing here? And why was she applying for a tutoring job? What in the hell was going on?

Pushing away from his desk, he stood up and came around to the front of the desk, leaning casually back against the edge as if the sight of her hadn’t gotten to him. “Hello, Jasmine. To what do I owe this honor?”

Jasmine looked at him, taking in the closely cropped hair, the grey eyes that were currently narrowed in speculation about her visit, the firm mouth, and straight nose. She let her eyes make a leisurely trip down his body, taking in the firm chest and abdominals she could only envision beneath the tight t-shirt he wore.

His waist was just as trim as always, and his legs were long and powerful, the thighs bulging against the fabric of his fatigues, while another bulge was just barely visible below his belt.

Misha watched her watch him and smirked when she fidgeted slightly before stilling herself.
Still in control. Let’s see if we can do something about that.
Pushing from the desk, he stepped towards her, hiding his grin when she quickly raised her eyes to his.

He made a leisurely circle around her, making sure she was aware of his gaze taking in her person. When a blush began to climb into her neck and cheeks, he found he couldn’t resist leaning in close to her ear and whispering, “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

Jasmine audibly swallowed, wishing she had listened to her inner voice and stayed away. Closing her eyes, she straightened her spine.
She was already here. And, she desperately needed this job! Damn Misha and his effect on her libido! I’m not going there again! Down, girl!

“I saw the advertisement for a Russian teacher; one that was also very fluent in English. I meet both qualifications. You know I can do the job.”

“Can you now? You don’t even know what the job is. What if I’m looking for a personal assistant, someone to be at my beck and call? Someone who speaks both languages fluently.”

Jasmine smiled at him and shook her head, “You speak both languages as well as I do. No, the tutor is for someone else. The only question now is who.”
God, he smelled good!

Misha sat on the edge of his desk once again, “I thought you left Russia?”

“Things change.” Jasmine had been hoping that her interview would be with either Alexey or even Dmitry; not Misha. She did not want to explain the last eighteen months to him. It had been an act of desperation coming here; she had nowhere else to turn, and only someone with the power and influence of the Fedosov’s could help her now. She hadn’t known that until a few months ago, and had been wondering how to approach them when she had seen the ad in the paper.

“What things? The way I remember it, you wanted nothing to do with staying in Russia. In fact, I distinctly remember you saying you would never willingly stay here.” Misha looked around, spreading his arms for emphasis, “I don’t see anyone holding a gun to your head, so I must assume you are here by choice. So, I ask again, what changed?”

“Things. Look, I would really rather not rehash the past. Are you willing to give me the details of the job or not?” Jasmine wrapped her arms around herself, silently praying for this interview to end before she lost her resolve and confessed all.

Misha cocked his head at her; something was amiss. Jasmine was nervous and definitely hiding something from him. She still had the power to stir his blood, but she appeared more fragile than the last time he’d seen her. He looked at her figure once again and realized that she appeared much thinner, yet her chest seemed larger.
Must be my wishful thinking!

Walking around to sit behind his desk, he motioned for her to sit in one of the chairs facing him. “The job entails tutoring two American women, both of whom are currently engaged to my cousins.”

“Alexey and Dmitry are getting married?” Jasmine asked, shock in her voice.

“Yes. That information is not to leave this office. They will tell the press when they so choose.” He gave her a hard stare and she nodded.

“The women are finding it difficult to communicate as neither one of them speak Russian. They have both shown an aptitude and a willingness to learn, hence the need for a tutor.”

Jasmine nodded her head, “That sounds easy enough. How many hours a week are we talking about?”

“To start with, two hours a day, five days a week. The tutoring sessions would take place here in the building. As they progress, the amount of hours will be adjusted accordingly. I imagine your next question is how much does the position pay?”

Jasmine nodded, ashamed that she had to be concerned with money. When Misha named the sum, she couldn’t hold back her gasp.
That was triple the amount she could make anywhere else working full-time! Not that she could actually get a job working in Russia, not without a valid work permit or a valid visa!

Jasmine tried not to let her desperation show as she asked, “When would the job start?”

“Immediately. Is that something you’re able to work into your busy schedule?” Misha had no idea what Jasmine had been doing for the last eighteen months. They had met while he was on a training mission with his troops. She was a foreign exchange student completing her doctoral studies in Russian literature and had come over from America to complete her thesis paper. He was surprised that she was still here, having heard it directly from her mouth that she had no intention of renewing her visa when it expired. That would have occurred six weeks after their last meeting.

Jasmine nodded, “Yes. Does that mean I have the job?”

Misha wanted to ask a myriad of questions, but seeing the defensiveness in both her posture and voice, he decided to do his own detective work. “Yes. Can you start tomorrow?”

Jasmine nodded, “What time would you like me to be here?”

“Does 10 o’clock work for you?” Misha asked, watching her emotions flow across her face.
She was relieved to have gotten the job. Why?

Jasmine quickly thought about her neighbor’s work schedule. Dasha was a nurse at a local hospital and was currently working a 4 pm – 2 am shift. That would give her plenty of time to help out. “That will be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Jasmine stood to leave, stopping as his voice reached her before she could exit, “Jasmine, why are you still in Russia?”

She answered him without turning around, “It doesn’t matter now. I’ll be here tomorrow.” She quickly exited the office and headed for the elevator. She didn’t breathe easy until she reached the lobby and started the long walk home.
She had gotten the job! She would make friends with the two American women and then maybe they could help her get an audience with Dmitry. If anyone could help her get a visa to get out of the country, it was him! If not, she would save her money and pay Tomas Alenin for a fake one. At least, for the moment, she had choices.

Chapter 2

Misha waited for all of ten seconds after she left his office before he called Sergei.

BOOK: The Russian's Secret Child (The Fedosov Family Series)

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