His jaw tightens, but he doesn't deny it. "Maybe. But that's on me, not you."
Danil stands, moving toward the door. "I'll make the calls. Get our best people on it."
When we're alone, Aleksandr's hands slide down to my shoulders. "I need you to look at something."
"What?"
"Security footage. From the hotel where Yuri met with the woman who paid him." He guides me to his desk, pulling up the video on his laptop. "I want to know if anything about her seems familiar."
I sink into his chair, and he leans over me, one hand braced on the desk, the other on the back of the chair. His body heat surrounds me, and I catch the scent of his cologne. My body responds and my pulse quickens.
Focus, Lena.
The video plays, grainy and dark. I watch the auburn-haired woman enter the bar, and something about her movements makes me lean closer.
"She's not seducing him," I say after watching it twice. "Look at her body language. No flirting, no touching beyond what's necessary. This is business."
"I noticed that too." Aleksandr's breath is warm against my ear, and I have to fight the urge to lean back against his chest. "What else?"
"She's confident. Comfortable in expensive places." I pause the video on the clearest shot of her profile. "And she's done thisbefore. See how she doesn't look around when she enters? She knows exactly where the cameras are and how to avoid them."
"Professional."
"Or someone who's been planning this for a long time." I turn my head, and suddenly, his face is inches from mine. Those gold eyes drop to my mouth, and heat pools low in my belly. "Someone patient."
His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my jaw. "You're good at this."
"At what?"
"Reading people. Seeing what others miss." His thumb brushes across my cheekbone. "It's one of the things I love about you."
The word 'love' hangs between us, unexpected and dangerous. My breath catches, and I see the moment he realizes what he said. His expression shifts, becomes guarded.
"I should let you work," I say, standing quickly. The chair rolls back, putting distance between us.
"Lena."
"I'm fine. Just tired." I move toward the door, needing air, needing space to process Pavel's death and that casual 'love' that probably didn't mean anything. "I'll be in my room if you need me."
I'm almost to the door when his voice stops me. "Dinner. Tonight. With me."
I turn back. "We eat together most nights."
"Not in the small dining room. The formal one." His hands slide into his pockets, and the gesture makes his suit jacket pull tight across his broad shoulders. "Humor me."
"Why?"
"Because I'm asking." His mouth quirks. "You've taken every meal in your room or when you know I'm in meetings." He moves closer, and I resist the urge to back up. "I miss talking to you."
The admission surprises me. "We talk."
"We exchange information. That's not the same thing." He stops a few feet away, giving me space. "Just dinner."
Well, hell. How can I say no to that?
"Fine. But I'm picking the wine."
His smile is genuine, transforming his face from dangerous to devastating. "Deal."
