Mission To Seduce. Sally Wentworth
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Drake frowned for a moment, then said curtly, ‘I’ll meet you in the lobby at eight.’
He walked to where he’d parked his car and Allie watched him drive away with great misgivings. Trust her to get landed with a chauvinist, and an autocratic one at that. When he’d gone, she made her call to Professor Martos from the phone in the lobby, then quickly strode back to the Gum department store.
The building reminded her strongly of a huge French château with its white façade and sloping green roofs, but inside it was a delight of galleried arcades linked by bridges, ornate iron railings, and stuccoed archways. Allie searched the shopping arcades for a store that sold maps in English and bought a road atlas covering western Russia, from Moscow north to St Petersburg. Only then did she take time to stop and admire the magnificent glass roof that spanned the store like some immense spider’s web, the sun casting shadows that elongated the strands of the web and seemed to reach out to trap the shoppers as they passed below.
The shops were starting to close but Allie browsed through them, looking for typical Russian goods, but the up-market western companies seemed to have hijacked the place and if it hadn’t been for the wonderful architecture she could have been in any shopping mall in any part of the world.
When she got back to her hotel Allie locked the road atlas inside her suitcase. It was unlikely that Drake would ever come up to her room again, but she didn’t want to run any chance of him seeing the book and starting to ask questions. She changed into a beige lace dress that left her shoulders bare and, rather than have Drake call up to her room, went down to the lobby to meet him.
She reached it just as Drake was coming into the hotel. Allie caused quite a stir as she came out of the lift; most of the people glanced round and let their eyes linger. But then, it was a designer dress, and she knew she looked good in it, the colour and the style perfect for her slim figure.
Drake stood still for a moment and then walked forward to meet her. ‘You’re exactly on time,’ he remarked, letting his gaze run over her.
‘I don’t usually keep people waiting for three hours,’ Allie told him, referring to the wait at the airport.
He smiled, his grey eyes creasing with amusement. ‘You’re never going to forget that, are you?’
‘Could anyone?’
‘Don’t let it put you off the country.’ He put a hand under her elbow to lead her to the door.
‘Oh, I won’t.’ She raised her hand to her hair, making him let go of her arm, and then strode ahead of him out into the open.
His car was waiting at the kerb and Drake opened the door for her. She wasn’t sure whether or not he had got the message, but he made no further attempt to touch her.
‘Where are we going?’ Allie asked as he began to drive away from the city centre.
‘To a restaurant where they do typical Russian food. I thought you might prefer that on your first night here.’
‘How thoughtful of you.’
He gave her a somewhat sardonic look, one level eyebrow rising. ‘Most people seem to.’
Which put her in her place, Allie thought, smiling inwardly. ‘Do you live in a hotel?’
‘No, I have an apartment, for the moment.’
‘You intend to move?’
‘No, but my job here is over. I shall be going back to England shortly.’
‘Shortly?’ Allie fastened on the word, wondering if it represented an easier way to get rid of him. ‘I hope you’re not staying on here in Moscow just because of me.’
Drake didn’t answer directly, merely saying, ‘I’m due some leave.’
Turning to look at him, Allie said, ‘Good heavens, how embarrassing. I wouldn’t for the world want to keep you from going home, from being with your family. In the circumstances it was wrong of Bob to ask you to—’
‘I’m happy to do it,’ Drake interrupted rather brusquely.
He said it in a tone that was meant to stop all argument, all further protestations, but Allie tried once more, saying with a little sigh, ‘Bob really is a dear. He worries about me, and I appreciate it. But he never seems to get it into his head that I’m quite capable of looking after myself, even in a foreign country. I can just imagine the list of instructions he gave you.’ She deepened her voice into a playful imitation of her boss’s bass tone. ‘Don’t let her get too friendly with the natives. Make sure she knuckles down to work. Don’t let her go off sightseeing—this isn’t a damn holiday. And don’t let her go on the Metro in case she gets lost. And don’t let her loose in the shops or she’ll spend a fortune.’
Pulling up outside the restaurant, Drake turned to her and laughed. ‘How did you know what he said?’
‘Because I got the very same lecture before I left, of course. Whenever he sends me on an assignment he always worries himself silly in case something happens to me.’
‘I’m surprised he lets you go, then.’
Her voice becoming serious, Allie said pointedly, ‘He has to. I’m good at my job and he knows it. And when it comes down to it, it’s my expertise he wants and is paying for. Oh, he might put on the act of being paternal and worrying about my welfare, but maybe that’s to compensate for the fact that he can’t do the job himself and has to send me instead.’
Drake had turned to look at her and was studying her face, taking in the seriousness of her blue eyes, the tilt of confidence and determination to her chin. Slowly he said, ‘I can understand his concern. You give off an aura of—’ he sought for the right word ‘—of fragility. You remind me of one of those modern figurines. Dressed in the latest fashion but with a delicacy that is becoming lost in the contemporary world. You look as if you might easily break.’
Allie sighed, knowing exactly what he meant; her lack of height and her fine bone structure were the bane of her life—of her professional and working life, at least; in her social life they were definite assets. Firmly, she said, ‘That impression is entirely wrong. It’s an anachronism. I’m a professional career woman and I can handle any situation I come up against. I don’t need a nursemaid, and I certainly don’t need a chaperon—of either sex.’
His eyebrows lifted. ‘That was a very definite statement.’
‘It was meant to be.’
‘And what exactly does not needing a chaperon mean?’
Steadily, her eyes holding his, she said, ‘It means that I’m not a girl. I’m an experienced woman, and if I want to get friendly with someone, then I’ll go ahead and do it, whether—my boss likes it or not.’ She had almost said ‘whether you like it or not’, but stopped herself in time. She wanted to keep this as impersonal as possible.
But Drake had guessed and his face hardened. ‘I’m beginning to think Bob is right about you,’ he said shortly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘“The lady doth protest