I was planning my trip, I wondered if you would be here. I thought about looking you up but…” She shrugged. “It was only one afternoon.”
He stared deeply into her eyes. “It was a hell of a lot more than that.”
Her stomach clenched slightly. It had been more for her, too.
“Sometimes I thought I’d imagined it all,” she admitted. “That we hadn’t really connected that way so quickly.”
“It was all real.”
He moved a little closer. Close enough that breathing didn’t seem all that necessary. Close enough to make her grateful that her dress slipped on and off so easily. Close enough that she thought about kissing him and touching him and having him touch her back. She thought about the large embassy and the empty rooms and how they could—
Liz consciously cleared her head and sucked in a breath. Time to regroup.
“So,” she said, striving for a cheerful tone, “how’s Mrs. Logan?”
He chuckled. “My mother is fine. Busy with her charity work. I’ll be sure to tell her you were asking. She was just here a few weeks ago. My parents visit a couple of times of year. It was cold and rainy for their visit, but you’ve come at a good time.”
Moscow weather seemed like a safe topic. “I’m glad. I’m hoping to have time to see a few things while I’m here.”
“Looking for a tour guide?”
“Maybe. Do you know someone?”
“A great guy.”
David was only a few inches taller than she, yet he seemed so much larger. And safe. She liked the combination of erotic arousal and comfort she felt standing next to him.
“Does he speak both English and Russian?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah. He’s also passable in German but he could dazzle you in French.”
“I’m not easily dazzled.”
“He’s up to the task.”
“Is he?”
“I promise.”
They were talking about more than just a tour of the city, she thought with a combination of excitement and trepidation. “Maybe you could give me his number.”
“I thought I’d introduce you myself. That would make it more personal. How much time will you have to see the sights?”
Liz took another sip of her champagne and realized David had no idea why she was in Moscow. Would the information change things? Silly question. Of course it would.
“I have a couple of days until things get complicated,” she said. “I’m not here on vacation. I’m with the Children’s Connection group. I’m adopting a baby girl.”
David’s expression didn’t change, nor did his body language, which told her she would never want to play poker against the man.
“Weren’t you working with them when we first met?” he asked.
“Yes. I did the artwork for their brochure.”
“And now you’re adopting a baby through them. My family is a big supporter of what they do. That’s why my parents were here. Well, to visit me, too.”
“How ironic we met last time because of Children’s Connection and here we are again, because of them,” she said.
“Remind me to send a thank-you note.”
She still couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He was so cool, she thought. Didn’t he have questions for her?
“Do you want to comment on my decision to adopt?” she asked.
He continued to study her face. “It’s an interesting choice for a single woman,” he said.
“Agreed.” She shrugged. “There are a lot of reasons. I’m successful and I can afford to take care of a baby. My work schedule is flexible—another plus.”
“Most women prefer to wait for home and husband.”
“True enough. I have the home, but I’m not interested in waiting for the husband.”
Getting married would mean falling in love and Liz wasn’t a fan of the process. In her world, romantic love cost too much and she wasn’t willing to pay.
“At the risk of discussing something too personal, why don’t you have a child of your own?” he asked.
“I’m sure you don’t remember, but I was raised by my grandmother.”
“Of course. Your nana.” He raised his eyebrows. “She was Russian.”
“I’m impressed you remembered.” More than impressed. Intrigued.
“It’s the spy training. I never forget a detail.”
Despite their relatively serious conversation, Liz smiled. “You’re still good-looking and charming. I can’t believe someone hasn’t snatched you up.”
“Maybe I haven’t been available.”
“Their loss.”
She meant it. She might not be interested in happily-ever-after, but that didn’t make her any less appreciative of David’s appeal.
He finished his glass of champagne. “Your grandmother was adopted,” he said.
“Right. After the Second World War. She was brought back to the States. She and I used to talk about her life before—how hard things were. Maybe the seed was planted there. When I did the brochure for Children’s Connection, I learned about their international adoptions. At the time it wasn’t practical, but eventually I realized it was something I wanted to do.”
He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to a small sofa in an alcove by a large window. When she was seated, he sat next to her, angling his body toward hers.
“Was the process difficult?” he asked.
He was sitting close enough to interfere with her mental process. She had to consciously focus on the topic to form actual sentences.
“There’s plenty of paperwork. I had to go through a home study and get all kinds of approvals and documents. I had an initial visit to meet Natasha—that’s the baby’s name. That was about a month ago. I was only here for a couple of days. I thought about trying to find you but…”
“There was a lot going on,” he said, brushing his fingers across the back of her hand.
“Right.”
The full days hadn’t been the only reason, she admitted to herself. She’d been cautious. It had taken a ridiculous amount of time to get over David five years ago. She hadn’t
