that housed tourists. They weren’t attractive but at least they were safe. Well, this was the last time she’d be sleeping here, so that problem was solved.
It still went against the grain to let her out here, and Serge found himself accompanying her inside and up the stairwell. She seemed embarrassed, as if the dire surroundings were somehow her fault.
She’d been quiet on the drive across town from the embassy. He’d expected a little flirting, but she’d gone back to pinning her knees together and she hadn’t taken off her boots. The mixed messages didn’t bother him as much as watching her let herself into that room and knowing he was going to leave her there.
She was unbelievably trusting. She had climbed into his car. She had given him her details. She’d probably open this door to anyone.
‘Keep this locked,’ he said, thumping the doorjamb with the side of his fist. ‘Don’t open the door to anyone you don’t know.’
She had sort of angled the door so he couldn’t see inside. Either that or she was worried he was going to lunge at her now they were in stepping distance of a bed. Which didn’t make sense. She’d been more in danger of that in the back of the limo. But he had no intention of rushing anything. A few hours wasn’t going to make much difference, and he intended to work Clementine Chevalier over so thoroughly she wouldn’t forget St Petersburg in a hurry.
It was going to be very mutually enjoyable.
If she stopped giving him these glimpses of vulnerability and expectation. As if simple consideration was something she hadn’t much experience of.
He handed her his card. ‘This is my number. Call me if you have any hassles. I’ll be here at eight.’
She nodded, those grey eyes wary in her heart-shaped face. Then that sweet curve at the corner of her mouth made its appearance, and Serge fought free of an impulse to lean in and kiss her—because once he did that he’d be setting up a softer scenario than the one he had planned.
Straight up sex, not seduction. That was on the menu for tonight and tomorrow night.
He’d save the seducing for a woman who needed it.
CHAPTER THREE
CLEMENTINE lingered in her shabby rats’ hole long enough to whip off her boots and slip on jeans and her trainers, then hightail it for the Grand Hotel Europe.
‘You’re doing what?’ Luke slid his spectacles down to the end of his nose after listening to her story.
That those glasses were only for show made the gesture all the more endearing. They had known each other since Clementine’s teenage years, when Luke had moved in next door. Meeting up with him again in a pub in London had been serendipitous. Without Luke, Clementine doubted she would have lasted more than a few months in London in that first year. He’d got her this job with the Ward Agency.
Clementine sat down on the end of his hotel bed. As head of public relations for the Verado shoot Luke got a whole room in the Grand Hotel Europe.
‘It’s just dinner, Luke.’
‘No, he ogled you in a shoe store and followed you up the Nevsky—’
‘And saved me.’
‘Saved you—right.’ Luke was all cynicism. ‘Some guy stole your bag—’
‘Two—two pretty nasty types. And then he just made the whole problem go away. Took me around in his limo.’
‘Just you make sure that’s all it is. Dinner.’
Clementine blew air up her fringe. ‘Yes, Mum.’
Luke sat down beside her on the end of the bed. ‘Sweetie, this guy isn’t the one.’
‘What one?’
‘The one you’re looking for.’
‘I’m not—’
‘Hey, Clem, remember who you’re talking to. I was there last year, remember? To pick up the pieces. This guy is rich, right? Impressive? It sounds familiar to me. You’re his type, darl, but he’s not yours.’
No, she wasn’t going to believe that. She wasn’t going to let one bad experience alter the course of her life. But she had, hadn’t she? And with Luke’s reminder reality began to seep in fast. ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I really want to find out.’ She could feel her face heating up.
Luke shook his head. ‘I’m going to give you my mobile, okay? You ring me here at any hour. Wherever he takes you, you make sure you get the address, and if he wants to take you anywhere out of the city you say no—got it?’
‘He’s not a serial killer.’
‘Probably not, but he knows you’re a tourist. I can’t believe you let some strange man ogle you in public.’ But his blue eyes were twinkling. ‘Those legs of yours should be insured.’
‘They’re not that good.’ Clementine gave her thighs a pinch.
‘They’re sensational, princess. Now, listen to Uncle Luke—are you packing protection?’
Clementine blinked.
‘Hell, Clem, I know you haven’t been dating for a while, but nothing’s changed, love.’
‘Never rely on the guy,’ intoned Clementine, wondering what Luke would say if he knew she’d never had casual sex in her life.
‘Good girl.’ Luke’s expression softened. ‘But you’re not going to sleep with him, are you?’
Clementine went for an insouciant shrug, and Luke threw back his head and laughed. ‘I’d love to be a fly on the wall when this bloke realises he’s going home alone.’
‘Maybe he just wants to get to know me better.’
Luke squeezed her knee. ‘You go on thinking that, darl, and one day pigs will fly, my flirty little puritan.’
Puritan. Hardly.
She dated. Just not in the last twelve months. But mostly she worked. She’d been working from the age of seventeen, supporting herself in any number of menial jobs, studying at night school. It didn’t leave a lot of time for relationships. Even friendships. She had loads of acquaintances—it went with her job—but only a couple of real friends. She knew the difference—just as she knew this date with Serge Marinov was a bit of fun to celebrate the end of her contract with Verado. She would flirt herself silly, and fantasise about what it would be like to be with a guy like this, and then—Cinderella-fashion—vanish at midnight.
Which reminded her…She retrieved Luke’s condoms from her clutch bag and tossed them onto the nightstand.
She only did relationship sex, whatever Luke might think.
Given the circumstances of their meeting, she tossed aside her pile of short skirts and tight tops and took out the pale green satin dress she had packed for evenings out with her co-workers. On the hanger
