Page 49 of Disguised as Love

I shrugged and pulled away from him, heading back toward the valet stand, but he easily caught me, twirling me back into his chest. The warmth of his body absorbed me more than the sun had.

“You have to be the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met,” he growled. “And that’s saying a lot because both my mother and grandmother are damn stubborn.”

His eyes widened as he realized what he’d said, sharing a piece of himself he was supposed to keep hidden, something real outside the confines of his mission.

“Demanding to be treated with respect isn’t stubborn,” I replied as I struggled against his viselike grip, but it did nothing. He easily held me against him.

“Is that what you think? That I don’t respect you?” His voice dropped a notch, growing in intensity in a way that coasted over my skin and raised goosebumps on my flesh once more. “You’re a goddamn dynamo. Every time I look at you, I find something new that impresses me. But giving orders and having them followed is how I’ve survived for fourteen years. I know what I’m doing. You’ll have to trust that I do.”

His words hit me in the chest hard, curling around my heart. He thought I was impressive…a dynamo. It seemed so contradictory to how he treated me. Then, I remembered the truth?he’d say anything to get his way?and the warmth of his words disappeared.

“Why the hell should I trust you?” My look took in his viselike grip on me to make my point.

His nostrils flared ever so slightly, but his grip didn’t lessen even as his look softened. He bent his head so that our faces aligned. His breath wafted over me as his nose skimmed along my cheek. “Because your body is telling you to.” His lips brushed the edge of my jaw, and my body responded, melting like magnesium under high pressure. “Trust your instincts,” he muttered.

I swallowed and pushed on his chest.

“And that’s another thing. When we’re alone, you have to stop touching me.”

He chuckled. “We’re never alone. They’re watching all the time.”

“They weren’t in my bedroom last night.”

His eyes flickered, hesitating. “We hope they weren’t. Otherwise, the little show we just put on for your stylist isn’t worth much.”

My reaction to him hadn’t been a show. It had been real, but it was another harsh reminder that everything he did was to keep his undercover persona intact. He was Antonne Woods, and Antonne had a thing for Raisa Leskov. But mentioning Alexia also reminded me of her slip, so instead of dwelling on things I couldn’t have and shouldn’t want, I focused on that.

“She knew your last name,” I said softly.

“I know.”

He tugged my hand into his, and I wanted to fight the feeling of safety it gave me, but he was right. My body had already declared its intent to trust him.

“Will you show me St. Petersburg, little one?” he repeated, but this time there was a soft plea to it. A request I couldn’t deny. And I wondered if there was anything I’d be able to deny this man. Whether he begged or commanded, I had a feeling I’d always give in.

Cruz

BARRICADE

“Never gonna stop,

There ain't no keeping me away.”

Performed by Lifehouse

Written by Wade / Cole

We spent the day wandering her city. We spent hours that should have been days at the Winter Palace and the State Hermitage Museum before strolling through the Alexander Gardens, taking pictures by the Bronze Horseman, and driving across the Palace bridge for a reverent walk in the silence of the Peter and Paul Cathedral.

As we wandered past the tombs of Nicholas II and his family, it was a stark reminder of the cruelty of the Romanovs’ history, but it was also moving to see the family laid there together after decades of being apart, buried in some unmarked grave they’d been left in. They’d been united once more. The ache inside me that had grown over the last year practically doubled in size. An ache for family. To be something more than just an undercover special agent, just as Raisa was trying to be more than just a mafiya boss’s daughter.

If it wasn’t for the people following us, I might have been able to lose myself in her and her city. To forget everything but her enthusiasm for its history, both cold and ruthless and warm and beautiful. The stark magnificence of her homeland and the resilience of the plants in a place that saw more winter than any other season…it all spoke to the steely strength of its people.

As we exited the cathedral, I caught a glimpse of bleached, spiked hair before it disappeared in the crowd. Relief flew through me not only because it meant I had backup but because it meant Ito-san hadn’t found the Leskov apartment and slit Yano’s throat. She’d let me see her, so I’d know she was there, but I wouldn’t see her again unless I needed her.

It was well after lunch?pirozhki, hot and steaming from a street stand?when Ilia texted Raisa, panicked, because we still weren’t back at the palace. I couldn’t find an ounce of remorse. I’d enjoyed our time together, pretending to be her boyfriend. Pretending to be a tourist experiencing St. Petersburg for the first time. But when Ilia drove into the city and picked us up, he glared at me as if I’d somehow crossed the line.

I had. I’d crossed it days ago and wasn’t sure I could find my way back.

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