Page 8 of Seduction (Wicked Vows)

The slight fluttering of her fingertips at her collarbone signifies more than nerves, though.

Has she ever been in close proximity to a man like me before? How sheltered has she been?

She continues, her voice a bit wobbly. “I have some puzzle books. My phone, of course, but my eyes get tired looking at screens after studying, and I’m so over looking at my phone. I hope there’s WiFi. Maybe I’ll nap, but I don’t like the idea of napping in public because I’ll let my guard down, and I—” She gives me a sidelong glance. “Huh. I suppose no one will give me a difficult time if I’m sitting anywhere near you. Maybe I will nap.”

I’m glad she doesn’t think I speak English because I would assure her she’d be absolutely fine to sleep next to me. I’d promise her utter safety and protection, but I can’t risk getting too close to her.

“My mother was so overprotective,” she explains. “I’m kind of glad we don’t speak the same language because that means I can say things maybe I normally wouldn’t.”

The driver looks at her in the mirror.

“Maybe he’s lying.”

I stare straight ahead and pretend I didn’t hear a thing. Asshole should mind his own business. I don’t even have the benefit of being able to give him a dirty look, or I could give myself away.

“You think he’s lying?” She gives the driver a quizzical look. “Interesting.”

“I didn’t say he was. Just saying it’s a possibility.”

I pretend I don’t feel the laser-sharp focus of her assessing gaze.

“Well, then,” Vera says, leaning closer to me. She lowers her voice so the driver can’t hear her. “What if I were to say things that would make him blush? If he didn’t speak English, he wouldn’t react, would he?”

What the fuck is she doing?

I give her a dismissive look like she’s an annoying little sister who needs to go away, then pull out my phone and pretend to scroll.

“So,” she says in a whisper as she casually picks at her cuticles. “I don’t like to sleep with pajamas on. Just saying.”

Jesus.

I stare at my phone and don’t look at her. I barely move.

“I don’t like the feel of clothes between me and the blankets,” she continues in a whisper. “I wonder if you do.”

When I don’t respond, she heaves a big sigh.

Maybe Vera Ivanova isn’t as innocent as she looks. Appearances can be deceiving.

With a sigh, she talks to the driver again. “I think you’re wrong. I think it’s actually true.” She lowers her voice. “Either that or I don’t have the effect on him I’d hoped for.”

Oh, but she does.

“Alright, bodyguard,” she says again in her plain, straightforward voice. “I’ve told you one of my biggest secrets. Now I’m going to tell you one more because you don’t have a clue what I’m saying.”

I keep my eyes stoically on my phone as I flip through various notifications. I cast a mildly curious glance at her.

“No one knows I read all the Bourne books. And I have a major, huge crush on Jason Bourne.” She leans in. “And you look just like him. Like just. Like. Him.”

Interesting. Jason Bourne was an assassin and she has a major crush on him.

But it’s so tempting to respond. So tempting.

Don’t react. Don’t react.

I slide my phone into my pocket and look straight ahead while Vera pulls out her phone with a sigh. She puts headphones in and mouths something to herself. I could check to see what she’s doing on the screen mirroring app I have, but she’s sitting right next to me. I don’t want to take risks.

My most important job right now is to get her on that plane. Once we’re in the air, the chances of me being discovered lessen.

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