Prince Voronov's Virgin by Lynn Raye Harris Read Free Book Online Page B

the bridge of her nose and she pushed them back up with a finger.
    He wanted to kiss the tip of that pert nose. The thought startled him. He could not afford to feel such romantic nonsense. She was a woman, an attractive woman, and she very possibly had information he needed. That was his sole reason for being interested in her.
    “I’m not going to St. Petersburg, Prince Voronov.” Chad sneered. “I’m staying right here until this deal is in the bag.”
    “You will not win.”
    Hatred oozed from the other man. “Don’t be too sure of that.” He turned to the woman sitting behind him. “Gather everything and meet me in the lobby. I have a phone call to make.”
    “Alone at last,” Alexei said once Chad had stormed out of the conference room like a Texas whirlwind.
    Paige crossed to the table, doing her best to give him the cold shoulder. “You shouldn’t be talking to me,” she said as she started to stack papers into neat piles. He did not miss that her fingers trembled.
    “Why not? I like talking to you.” Oddly enough, he truly did. He shouldn’t, but she was refreshing in a way the women he usually dated were not. Still, he would not allow anything—not even her relative innocence—to interfere with his plan to ply her for information.
    Her gaze snapped to his, then dropped again. A tinge of pink stained her cheeks. He liked that about her. Her long darkhair was gathered in a ponytail, and she wore a conservative black pantsuit with a high-collared white shirt. The suit fit her well enough, but she looked like a penguin.
    A penguin he wanted to unwrap. She was too staid, too stuffy. It would be a pleasure to strip her of her businesslike formality, to see the sensual woman he’d glimpsed last night when he’d kissed her in the square. Her glasses slipped down her nose as she worked. She took a moment to shove them up again before continuing with her sorting.
    “I work for Chad Russell,” she said, “and I’d like to keep my job, if you don’t mind. So please don’t talk to me.”
    “Why is talking to you a bad thing?” he asked, moving around the table until he stood next to her. Until he could breathe in her summery scent.
    Were those peaches he smelled? Unbidden, the thought she should be dressed in warm vibrant colors like summertime filtered into his mind. Though white suited her, like snow covering a pure landscape, it did not do so when overwhelmed by so much black.
    So prim, this woman. She would be a challenge, perhaps. He liked challenges, relished them. Especially when they were unexpected.
    She stopped what she was doing and turned toward him. He didn’t miss the movement of her throat as she swallowed heavily. Her fingers shook where they rested on a pile of papers in midsort.
    “Because I don’t like lying to my boss, and because I don’t want him to ask me anything about you—why I was talking to you, what I think of you—anything. Because talking to you tangles me in a web of lies, and I’m no good at it.”
    Alexei laid his hand over hers on the papers. He affected her. And he definitely planned to use it to his advantage, to romance her, to romance any information out of her thathe could get. In war, he took no prisoners, eschewed no tactics.
    He pushed aside a stab of guilt as he caressed the back of her hand. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
    Her jaw dropped. “Are you insane? Didn’t you hear a thing I said? I can’t have dinner with you!”
    “Chad doesn’t have to know,” Alexei said, giving her hand a tug until she was flush against him. He had a sudden desperate urge to feel the warm softness of her body pressed against him again. To drown in her soft scent and softer skin.
    When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip.
    “Let me go,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast.
    And though he didn’t want to do it, though he wanted to kiss her into compliance, he did as she asked. She immediately stepped away and put her arms around her