Flight of the Raven (16 page)

He felt her shudder, but she complied.

There was no problem about slipping across the garage into the basement through a door which he knew would be unlocked. There Aleksei stopped at a service phone and made a call to a contact on the domestic staff. A few minutes later he had the number of an empty room on the fifth floor. The door would be unlocked by the time he and Julie arrived.

They took the stairs instead of the elevator and emerged in a wide hallway lighted by decorative sconces. No one else passed. As promised, 503 was unlocked and unoccupied.

After closing the door and throwing the bolt, he turned to Julie. “You’re safe now.”

“You mean I’m your prisoner.” Her eyes were enormous as she backed away toward the window.

“No.”

“Then let me out of here. I have to tell the embassy what happened.”

“No.”

She glanced at the phone on the stand between the two double beds.

“Don’t make me rip it out of the wall.”

“What are you going to do? Shoot me? Torture me?”

He winced. “I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you.”

She flexed the arm he’d grasped too tightly. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“I had to stop you from trying to get away.”

They glared at each other.

“Julie, someone almost killed you tonight. They sent you to a precise spot in that courtyard and set an explosive charge to go off above your head at exactly nine o’clock.” The words were meant to persuade her, but they almost tore him apart. If she had been in some kind of shock, so had he. All at once the enormity of what had almost happened hit him. “They almost killed you,” he repeated in an anguished whisper.

She stared at him as though coming out of a dream. Ever since she’d gotten that note she’d been walking through some sort of bizarre nightmare. His words were like a splash of cold water in the face. They brought her back to life—and confusion. Her gaze skittered around the room, came to rest on the bed, then bounced back to Aleksei. Along with anguish, the sexual awareness that had been simmering be- tween them was in his eyes. And God help her, she felt it too.

Closing the distance between them in two long strides, he pulled her into his arms. He had to hold her, touch her, satisfy himself that she was truly safe. But it was more than that. Her brush with death had left him icy cold. He needed to wrap himself in her warmth.

“Julie,” he rasped, his hands moving to caress her hair, her shoulders, her arms. If she had shown any resistance, he might have stopped there. But her face lifted to his, and he saw the golden flecks of fire in her dark eyes just before he felt the soft whisper of her breath on his cheek. In slow motion he kissed her forehead. The contact snapped his restraint. All at once his lips were traveling rapidly over her face, kissing her cheek, her eyebrows, her nose.

He heard her speak his name too.

“You need me,” she marveled.

“Yes.” The admission was wrung from him. He’d thought he’d never say that to another human being again. But he’d said it to her.

As he spoke, her lips and hands began to move just as urgently as his. Their mouths collided, held. He heard her indrawn breath, felt her open to him, tasted her warmth and sweetness. She murmured something he couldn’t possibly understand. It didn’t matter. If neither of them spoke the other’s native language it would not have been important at this moment.

When they had kissed before, he had held something of himself back. Now that was impossible. His tongue explored the outline of her lips, then slipped inside to caress the silky interior. He felt her fingers thread themselves in his hair, her body mold against him. Her breasts, pressed against his chest, made him ache to increase the intimacy. His hands traveled down her back, cupping her bottom and pulling her hips more firmly against his own. He knew she must feel his arousal, yet she made no effort to move away.

Julie’s senses reeled. This man had denied she was his prisoner, but he couldn’t have been more mistaken. She was totally captivated by the strong arms that held her close, the hungry mouth that ravaged hers, and the hoarse confession he had made. More than that, he had cared enough about her to save her life.

She realized she had never felt more alive, more exhilarated than at this moment. Fiery threads seemed to weave themselves through her body, building an unfamiliar tension that threatened to consume her. She was a creature of sensation now, burning for Aleksei as she had never burned before.

Her passion intoxicated him and almost made him lose all reason. He drank in her essence, sealing her mouth more tightly to his. He felt her hands in his hair tighten beseechingly. Shifting her body slightly, he cupped one soft breast in the palm of his hand. He heard her moan deep in her throat. Somehow, the tiny noise brought back a measure of sanity. How could he take advantage of her vulnerability like this?

To let her go would be to die a little. For one electric moment he allowed his hips to move against hers, savoring the ache inside him. Then his hands went to her shoulder, gently pushing her away so that a few inches of space separated their bodies. He lifted his head.

Her eyes snapped open. They were large and dark, the pupils dilated. Around their rims the golden lights seemed to dance.

“Julie,
lyubovochka,
”he murmured. “We have to stop.”

Her face registered confusion, hurt. “You’re playing with me again. The way you did at Casa Mendoza.”

“Playing?” His laugh was harsh. “Is that what you believe? Do you think a man can fake his reactions to a woman?”

Unwillingly, she shook her head.

“Julie, listen to me. The kind of brush you had with death tonight is the most powerful kind of aphrodisiac. You are very vulnerable right now. No matter how much I want to make love to you, I can’t use that to my own advantage.”

Deep inside, she acknowledged the truth of what he said. But she couldn’t attribute her longing only to that. “Is that why you think I...” She couldn’t finish.

“That’s part of it, certainly.”

“So you’re protecting me?”

“Yes.”

“Since when does a major in the KGB protect an American spy?”

“When he cares about her very much.”

Chapter Ten

A
leksei crooked his finger under her chin. “Julie, if you’re a spy, I’m a Russian Orthodox priest. And nobody has ever accused me of that.” From the first he’d sensed her discomfort with the role someone was forcing her to play. Now he was determined to find out what she really knew.

But she seemed just as determined to unmask him. “Just what have you been accused of?”

The question struck chords she couldn’t be aware existed.

“The less you know about me, the better.”

“Why?”

In frustration, he ran a hand through his thick black hair. “We must talk, and there’s so little time.” Taking her hand, he drew her to the couch that occupied an alcove across from the two beds. Before releasing her fingers, he pressed them tightly.

“I think we could both use a drink.”

Like most European hotel rooms, this one was equipped with a minibar. It was locked, but that didn’t bother Aleksei. Julie watched in fascination as he hunkered down, pulled out something that looked like a Swiss army knife, and selected a tool. In a moment he had picked the lock and opened the door. He turned and looked back at her. “A brandy, I think.”

“I can’t drink on an empty stomach.”

“Did you miss dinner too?”

“Yes. But why didn’t you eat?”

“I’ve been too worried about you.” The admission should never have left his lips. He looked down quickly and began inspecting the contents of the small refrigerator. “We can share a bag of corn chips, some salted almonds, and a candy bar for dinner.”

After bringing the snacks and two brandies back to the coffee table in front of the sofa, he sat down next to her.

“So we both know you’re not a spy. Then how are you involved in this?”

With slow deliberation, she opened one of the packages and took out a salted almond. The feeling of trust for him had been growing. But was that confidence misplaced? Was she being carefully led down a path that he had chosen? Or even worse, had this whole evening been staged to gain her confidence?

“Look at me,” he demanded.

Unwillingly, she raised her dark eyes to meet his blue ones. They had deepened to the cobalt color she had come to associate with strong emotion. “Julie, you are still in a great deal of danger.
T’fu!
” He spat out the Russian expletive, using it as an outlet for his frustration. “And I can’t do a damn thing about it unless you help me.”

“You’re asking me to betray my country.”

“No.”

“Then what?”

He sighed. “Let me start with a very basic assumption. You know absolutely nothing about what Dan Eisenberg was involved in. Am I correct?”

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Then someone—presumably a CIA operative—is using you to try and get information about Eisenberg’s activities. But he can’t care very much about your welfare if he gave you that ticket and sent an innocent like you to the theater on a fishing expedition.”

“That’s not right. I found the ticket in Dan’s desk after he died.”

His eyes narrowed. “So our CIA man was just taking advantage of your naïveté. That’s not much better. And he’s not—” he hesitated as he fumbled for the American idiom “—playing straight with you, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Either he’s a bumbling idiot or he already knows that the San Jeronimo bombing wasn’t directed at Eisenberg. If he had shared that piece of information, you wouldn’t have gone over to Calle Hermosillo this evening, would you?”

“Cal knew?”

“Calvin Dixon?”

“Oh, Lord. You’re right. I’m not very good at this.”

He reached for her hand. “It would have saddened me if you were.”

Julie took a sip of her brandy. It burned all the way down.

“Why did you use the ticket in the first place?” the man across from her finally asked.

“Dan and I were friends. I wanted to prove to myself that he wasn’t...that he wasn’t involved in anything illegal.”

“But you thought he might be?”

“Cal thought so. And then there was Dan’s calendar. There were cryptic notations...”

Aleksei interrupted her. “No, don’t tell me anything that’s going to compromise you. It’s obvious that your Cal Dixon is swimming out of his depths in shark-infested waters and doing his best to pull you under with him.”

She raised her eyes to his. “You seem to know a great deal more than I do about what’s going on. What can you tell me?”

“Nothing.”

“But I thought...”

“You can’t make assumptions.”

“So I really can’t trust you, can I?” The words were spoken with vehemence, sadness.

“Only so far.”

“You must be enjoying this.”

“You have a strange idea of what gives me pleasure.”

She put her glass down on the table. “I think I should go home now.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t advise it.”

“Why not?”

“Because the person who wants you eliminated is going to be very upset when he finds out the attempt failed. He will try again. I can guarantee it.”

The only way to get through this was not to surrender to the terror building inside her. Her thoughts flew to Paula. She only hoped that she had indeed left the apartment at eleven and that nothing had happened to her. “Then I’ll go to the embassy.”

“You might not be safe even there.”

“Are you telling me this hotel room is my only sanctuary in Madrid?”

“Tonight, yes.”

“Are you trying to frighten me?” It was impossible to keep her voice steady.

“I wish it were only that.” He reached across the sofa and pulled her against him. His arms went around her shoulders, and he cradled her head against his chest. One hand stroked her thick brown hair. Neither of them spoke. The feeling of strength she’d felt that first time he’d held her enveloped her again. For the moment she felt protected in his embrace, but she understood just how false the sense of security was.

“Aleksei?”

“I can buy you some time.” For her sake, he said the words with confidence, but inside he knew it would be a miracle if he could pull it off. “But you’re going to have to do exactly what I tell you.”

Her face was still pressed against his chest. “Why should I trust you?”

“It’s your only option.” He held her close for a little longer and then shifted her body so that he could see her face once again. “I have to leave you.” His strong hands caressed her hair, her cheeks.

Several emotions registered in her eyes. Surprise, fear, regret.

“I want you to promise me that you will stay here tonight. Don’t answer the phone if it rings. Don’t make any calls. And don’t open the door for anyone. Will you do that?”

“Yes,” she whispered as she realized now she couldn’t call Paula to be sure she was safe.

“At the lake you offered me NATO documents. Was that just a bluff, or did you mean it?”

“Cal told me to stall, but he had something for me to give you.”

“I may need it.”

She didn’t expect him to tell why, so she simply waited tensely in silence.

“You’re due to go home next month,” he said.

She was past surprise and only nodded her confirmation.

“You must leave Madrid by the end of the week.”

“What do you mean?”

“I said I could buy you a little time. But after that you won’t be safe until you’re back in the States.” If then, he thought, but he couldn’t say it aloud.

“They won’t let me go just like that. My tour’s not up.”

“They’ll let you go if you threaten to make a public statement.”

“What do you mean?”

He laughed mirthlessly. “You might start by letting the ambassador know what the enterprising Mr. Dixon has been up to. I doubt he’s been fully informed. Don’t hesitate to use whatever you can. Put in a call to your uncle the senator if you have to. He has a lot of influence with the White House.”

He stood up and glanced at his watch. “It’s 4:00 a.m. in Moscow. I’m going to have to get some people out of bed. But you should be able to report back to your embassy tomorrow morning at nine.” He crossed to the door. “Put the chain on after I leave.”