Behind the Palace Walls (7 page)

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?”

He shrugged. It infuriated her the way he so casually dismissed her fears. He was rich, and he didn’t have to worry about losing his job. But she had so much more to worry about than her job now that Chad was planning to marry her sister. She would not cause problems between them.

“You should have agreed to come to dinner with me. Then we would not be here, but elsewhere.”

Paige gritted her teeth. “Go away.”

He leaned back against the cushions and shot her an arrogant grin. “Only if you go with me.”

Her heart leaped into double time. “I’m not going with you, Alexei.”

“Then I will stay with you,” he said, reaching for the menu.

She held it tight, refusing to let go.

“This is a nice hotel,” he said, “but it caters to tourists. Wouldn’t you like to try real Russian food? See more than the inside of your room and the airport?”

“I’ve already been to Red Square,” she said primly.

His grin could have melted an iceberg. “I have fond memories of your trip to Red Square.”

Paige tried not to blush, though she could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks. For once in her life, she wished she’d slept around more. Then she wouldn’t be so affected by Alexei Voronov’s wicked grin.

“You didn’t really come here to make me go to dinner with you,” she said, trying to interject some reality back into the situation.

“No. I had to meet with someone. But I saw you enter the restaurant, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see you again.”

“Stop saying things like that.”

“Why not? You are a beautiful woman, and I wanted to see you.”

No one had ever called her beautiful. She was passably pretty, but she was too plain to be beautiful. Fashion confused her, makeup was a mystery that she’d only partially solved—blush, lipgloss and mascara usage were pretty simple—and her hair was so long and thick that she usually just ended up with a ponytail. Emma tried to get her to wear trendier clothes, but she never felt quite right in them. Emma’s style was wrong for Paige, and since she didn’t really know how to find her own, she settled for business suits and jeans. It was a safe wardrobe. Conservative.

“I can see you do not believe me,” Alexei continued. “This shocks me, Paige.”

She lifted her chin a notch while she clutched the menu between her hands. “I don’t trust you, Prince Voronov. You have an ulterior motive.”

His face split into another of those jaw-dropping grins. “How well you know me already,” he purred. “I do have an ulterior motive.” Then he leaned forward and caught one of her hands in his. “The motive is that I want you to come with me now. I promise Chad will never know. He may speak Russian, but he does not know this place like I do. He will not venture beyond the more trendy districts.”

“And you want to take me somewhere that isn’t trendy?” She pulled her hand away, though her heart continued to beat overtime. “I’m not sure if I should be insulted or relieved.”

Oh my God, she was bantering with him.

His sensual mouth curved, showing impossibly white teeth. “I would take you to the finest restaurant in the city, if you would allow me. But since you will not, I want to take you somewhere even better.”

“Better than the finest restaurant in the city? That doesn’t seem possible, now does it?”

“It is very possible, I assure you. You have only to say yes, and you will find out. Come with me now, Paige.”

She liked talking to him. He took away the loneliness, and he made her insides churn with excitement. Warmth flowed through her like she’d submerged in a hot bath. It made her languid and less uncertain.

Was it truly wrong to consider going to dinner with him? Chad and Emma were very likely locked in their suite, ordering room service and making love. Why couldn’t she see the city and enjoy herself for a while? What was the harm in that?

“I can’t,” she said, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. Because she wanted to go. She wanted to spend more time with this man who told her she was beautiful. He made her feel like she was someone special, even if it were an illusion. It was a new feeling and she liked it way too much.

“That is Chad Russell talking,” he said disdainfully. “I want to hear what Paige Barnes wants.”

Paige closed her eyes. She wanted to see the city, and she wanted to have dinner with a handsome man who gave her compliments. “It’s too complicated. I shouldn’t go.”

“What is complicated about eating together?”

But why couldn’t she have an evening of fun? Emma was with Chad, and they were so happy with each other that they wouldn’t notice if Paige went out for a few hours. So long as the restaurant was far from the hotel and not a place likely to be frequented by tourists, what was the harm? She’d already spent the night with this man. It couldn’t get any worse than that.

Besides, what had happened to her vow to live for herself, to do what Paige wanted for a change?

“Yes,” she breathed before she could change her mind. “I’ll go to dinner with you.”

“Speciba,” Alexei said as he slid from the seat and grabbed her hand. He tossed some bills down on the table, though she’d ordered nothing yet, and tugged her toward the exit.

“Wait, I need my coat,” she said, pulling against him. She hadn’t expected them to move so fast once she’d agreed. She’d thought she would have time to run up to her room and get her coat at the very least.

“I will buy you a coat,” he replied.

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Of course you can.” He dragged her into one of the shops in the lobby, picked out a long white coat made of the finest cashmere and wrapped her in it while the shopgirl oohed and ahhed.

“Alexei—”

“Quiet, Paige.”

Next he selected a fur cap, like the one he’d worn last night, though in white, a snowy scarf and matching gloves made of the finest kid. Then he took a credit card from the breast pocket of his jacket and handed it to the cashier before Paige could insist on paying for it herself.

A moment later and he was hustling her out the lobby doors and into a long black limousine.

“I want to pay you for everything,” she said as the car started to roll down the driveway.

“I will not take your money. Consider it a gift.”

“I insist, Alexei.” She folded her arms and stared at him, daring him to argue. How could she accept a gift so fine? She could not be indebted to him. Dinner was one thing, but a cashmere coat that must have cost at least five hundred dollars?

“Very well,” he said easily. “We will set up a payment plan. One hundred of your U.S. dollars a month for the next sixty months…”

Paige blinked. “Six thousand dollars? You spent six thousand dollars?”

He reached out and tipped a finger under her chin. Her mouth snapped closed as she realized her jaw had been hanging open.

“Da, but you needed a coat.”

She started to shrug out of the garment, but he stopped her.

“Don’t be a fool, Paige. It pleases me to buy this for you. You do not need to pay me.”

She looked away as, ridiculously, her eyes filled with tears. When was the last time she’d gotten a gift for no reason whatsoever? Not since before her mother died. Mama had loved surprising her daughters with small trinkets—until she had the accident and every penny they had went toward her care.

Paige couldn’t accept such an extravagant gift from this man. It wasn’t right. “I’ll give everything back when you return me to the hotel.”

Alexei swore in Russian. Or so she assumed by the expression on his face. “Very well,” he said, stony-faced. “Whatever pleases you, Paige Barnes.”

And now she felt ungrateful. She’d hurt his feelings, and it bothered her. She was Southern—and like all Southern women, she’d been inculcated with graciousness and sensitivity to others’ feelings from birth. She’d failed miserably just now.

Paige touched his sleeve. “Thank you for the coat, Alexei. It was kind of you.”

He swung around to look at her, his brows drawn down over his remarkable eyes. Why did he have to be so breathtaking?

“I do not understand you, Paige.”

She blew out a breath. The air in the car was warm, and she was feeling toasty and comfortable. “I’m not sure I understand myself,” she said with a shaky smile. “But I’m sorry I was rude.”

He waved a hand, as if dismissing the last few minutes from his mind. “And I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It was not my intention.”

Paige’s gaze dropped. She twisted her fingers together in her lap. “I have to admit I’m uncomfortable simply being with you,” she said. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“There will be no trouble.”

“If I were your employee, and you saw me with Chad, would you be angry?”

“Truthfully? Yes. But,” he said before she could interject anything, “I would not fire you simply because of that. Far better to keep you close.”

She frowned. “Really? Why?”

He leaned in as if he were imparting a secret. “Because you might know things that could be valuable to my enemies.”

Her stomach bottomed out. “You’d be mistaken,” she said softly. “I don’t know anything. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. If that’s why you’ve gone to all this trouble, you’re wasting your time.”

Alexei grinned, and her insides melted in spite of her wish not to react. “Such a little teegr, Paige. This is why I like you. You are loyal, even when he has hurt you deeply.”

She twisted her fingers together in her lap. “I’m not hurt. I was simply surprised. And concerned for my sister.”

“Your sister is old enough to take care of herself, don’t you think?”

Paige frowned. He didn’t understand, and she couldn’t really explain it. “That’s not the point. I feel responsible for her, and I love her. I won’t let anyone hurt her.”

“Of course you love her,” he said. “But you are not responsible for her.”

“You don’t know anything about us,” she protested. “It’s easy for you to sit there and pronounce judgment, but until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes, you have no right to tell me how to feel.”

He took one of her hands in his, rubbed stomach-flipping circles in her palm. “I am not telling you how to feel. But a twenty-one-year-old makes her own decisions. You are not responsible for what she chooses.”

Her breath left her on a long sigh. “I know. But you don’t stop worrying about someone just because they become an adult. I raised Emma. In some ways, she’s like my child.”