Betrayed (Undercover #3) Read Free

he’s not.”
    I reddened and stared at the board, playing for time. I moved a knight, not even thinking about strategy. The mood was completing its shift, now, slotting into a place that was definitely familiar and definitely wrong. Very wrong.
    “His other girlfriends have been…”—he shook his head dismissively—“vacuous whores. But you. You are intelligent. You know your own mind.” He reached behind him and, as he twisted, I saw how broad his shoulders were, how his chest still had the same powerful swell as Luka’s. His hair was shot through with silver, but most of it was still black.
    He picked up the bottle of whiskey and poured himself another glass, as if to reassure me that he was drinking, too. And then he grabbed the vodka bottle and went to pour me some more.
    I instinctively put my hand over my glass.
    He grinned at me, took my hand and lifted it off and down onto the tabletop. Then he poured me another vodka. He kept smiling at me the whole time and I found myself shyly smiling, too, even though alarm bells were ringing in my head. What the hell is going on?!
    “And you are American,” he said. “Most American women do not like Russian men. They find us too…” He paused. “What is the word? Too chill?”
    “Too cold,” I said quietly. I had an awful suspicion that he’d known the right word damn well. He was just trying to appear klutzy to put me at ease.
    “ Cold. And, if the men are like Luka and me, from the Brotherhood, then we are cold and dark, yes?” He indicated me. “And you, you are warmth and light.” He wagged his finger. “You should not be attracted to this.”
    His eyes. His eyes were gleaming just like Luka’s.
    And, suddenly, I knew what the mood had shifted to. Seduction. He was seducing me.
    No! That’s crazy!
    I knocked back my second vodka, feeling the pleasant warmth throughout my body, now. When I was brave enough to meet Vasiliy’s eyes again, there was no mistaking the look there. He wanted me. I could see it as clearly as if his thoughts were projected onto the wall behind him. He wanted to pull me up out of my chair and hurl me down on the table, chess pieces scattering across the floor. Pull up my dress, rip off my panties and—
    I drew in a labored breath and stood up, staring at him. The mood shattered in an instant.
    He smiled. “Interesting. For a moment there, I thought I was going to get to fuck you.”
    And the truth washed over me, scarcely less disturbing than what I’d been imagining. It had been a test. One I’d passed.
    He looked at me and then at my chair, indicating that I should sit back down for whatever round two would bring. I stood there indecisively for a moment...and then sat down. Whatever happened, I needed to get on Vasiliy’s good side. If he had a good side.
    He smiled, as if glad I’d decided to play. “You suit the dress,” he said, waving his hand vaguely at the bodice. “You suit beautiful things. Some of the other girls, they only like my son because he can give them nice things. But you, I think...you want something more.” He moved his rook and then smiled at me again. “I think you want to get inside his head.”
    Shit—
    He leaned forward, the muscles in his forearms bulging as he braced his hands on the table. “You are an American and you are getting close to my son. So either you are in love with him or—”
    SHIT—
    “You are a spy for the C. I. A. ” He said each letter very clearly and precisely.
    I stared at him in horror.
    “Are you a spy?” asked Vasiliy.
    “No!”
    “Are you in love with my son?”
    “I—”
    He suddenly leaned across the table, our faces almost touching. “ What is it?!” he snarled. “What’s between the two of you?”
    “I—I really like him! He likes me! He’s helping me—”
    “It can’t have started like that! How did it start?” When I didn’t answer, he slammed his fist down on the table, the chess pieces jumping and falling. “ HOW?”
    “ Sex!”