Kholodov's Last Mistress Read Free Page B

words printed on it in stark black ink.
Sergei Kholodov, CEO, Kholodov Enterprises,
and an address of an office building in Moscow’s centre. She handed the card back to him.
    ‘Impressive.’ Of course anyone could print up a fake business card, even an expensive-looking one like that. This man could still be a drug dealer or a slave trader or who knew what else. She folded her arms across her chest, conscious of the chilly wind ruffling her hair and cutting through her parka.
    ‘I can see you’re not convinced.’
    ‘I’m not sure why you’re here.’
    ‘At least you’re finally showing some common sense,’ he remarked dryly. ‘To tell you the truth, I feel a bit responsible for the theft of your things.’
    ‘Why? I was the one who forced you to let that little boy go.’
    ‘You didn’t
force
anything,’ he told her a bit sharply, and Hannah suppressed a small smile that she’d actually pricked his pride. It made him seem more approachable, if such a thing were possible. She wasn’t sure it was.
    ‘Sorry,’ she said, her lips twitching. ‘I distracted you then from your manly effort.’
    He didn’t like that either, judging by his scowl. ‘I couldhave come over sooner,’ he told her. ‘I saw what those kids were doing.’
    ‘You watched?’
    ‘I waited a moment too long,’ he clarified. ‘And in any case, you don’t have many options.’
    That was certainly true. ‘I’m still not sure how that affects you,’ Hannah said.
    ‘You can stay the night at my hotel. In the morning I can help you sort something out with the police and the embassy.’
    He made it sound so simple. Maybe there was a get-out-of-jail-free card after all. ‘That’s very nice of you,’ Hannah said at last. She still felt uncertain, even suspicious. It seemed too easy. Too nice. For him, anyway. ‘What hotel?’ she finally asked as her mind considered and discarded non-existent possibilities.
    ‘The Kholodov.’
    ‘
The
Kholodov?’ It was one of the most luxurious hotels in Moscow, and way, way out of her budget. And he, she recalled from the card, was Sergei Kholodov.
That
Kholodov.
    Now his mouth kicked up at one corner, and even though it still wasn’t really a smile it transformed his face, lightening his eyes, softening his features, so Hannah felt a sudden blazing bolt of awareness ignite her senses. When he smiled he really did look
amazing.
    ‘You’ve heard of it.’
    ‘Hasn’t everyone?’
    He shrugged even as his mouth quirked a little more, revealing a surprising dimple. The assassin had a dimple. She felt another bolt of awareness, as if her senses had been struck by lightning. It wasn’t, she decided, an unpleasant sensation. Not at all.
    ‘So,’ he said, ‘you might as well stay there.’
    Hannah hesitated. She believed in the best of people, wanted to believe in the best in him. She just didn’t want tobe even more foolish than she’d already been. ‘It’s very nice of you to offer—’
    ‘If you’re worried about security, you can take a taxi yourself to the hotel. I’ll pay for the fare.’
    ‘You don’t—’
    He arched an eyebrow. ‘
You
don’t have any money, do you? And trust me, it is no trouble. I have empty rooms. I have plenty of money. And,’ he added, glancing at his watch, ‘I have things to do. So make up your mind.’
    When he put it like that, it sounded sensible. And surely her best option. ‘Okay,’ Hannah said at last. ‘Thank you.’
    ‘I told you, it is no trouble.’ Sergei stretched one arm out towards the street and within seconds a taxi cab had screeched to a halt in front of him. Sergei dismissed it, and the next one he flagged as well, explaining tersely, ‘They’re both unmarked. You’ll feel safer in an official taxi, with a meter.’ His consideration for such a detail touched her.
    Finally a legit taxi pulled to the kerb, and Sergei opened the door. ‘The Kholodov,’ he told the driver, handing him a wad of rubles. He glanced at Hannah.