Chapter 12
12
Alex poured himself another glass of whiskey and stared down into its amber depths in search of answers. How in the hell had she done that to him? She’d stripped away every single urge from him to do anything but make her scream with pleasure.
His m.o. was to relish deprivation of pleasure. He didn’t get off on causing pain, but he always made sure the women he had sex with didn’t enjoy it particularly. He took his pleasure alone. The shrinks said it was a subconscious desire to punish his mother for leaving him.
But Katie, lamb-for-the-slaughter Katie, had smashed the mold to smithereens. Katie, the CIA plant trying to trap him into working for the agency. Katie, the superb actress and damned liar. Except he’d watched her body flush with pleasure, watched her shudder with orgasm after orgasm, heard the cries torn from her throat. Nobody— nobody —could fake all of that.
He’d had sex with some seriously accomplished whores. Some had tried to fake enjoying themselves with him over the years because they thought that was what he wanted. They hadn’t understood it was the one thing he didn’t want from them. They’d been professional fakers, and they couldn’t have pulled off what had just happened between him and Katie half so well. No, Katie’s reactions had been real.
What the hell did it mean?
Was it possible that she was actually who she said she was? An adventurous nurse who’d been thrown in his path by sheer chance? And who just happened to have an uncle who was a high-ranking CIA official?
He tossed down the whiskey in a single angry gulp. It burned its way to his gut like acid. He glared at the cell phone on its desk, full of damning photographs of Katie in the most compromising possible positions.
There was no chance she was an innocent. Which left him with only one logical course of action. He had to turn the woman who was trying to turn him.
He had to addict her to him so completely that she served him over all others, that she abandoned any previous loyalties and clung only to him. And if that didn’t work, he always had the pictures.
But something deep within him rebelled at the notion of brainwashing or blackmailing her. Tonight, her reaction to him had been entirely voluntary. She was legitimately attracted to him. Had genuinely enjoyed having sex with him. It was a first for him.
And it’s addictive, dammit .
He couldn’t afford to indulge in any addictions, right now. The FSB and the CIA were breathing down his throat, both trying hard to rope him into working for them. Someone had hired that American in Zaghastan to kill him. At any minute, that person would send a more accomplished assassin after him, assuming it hadn’t been done already. God knew what game his father was playing now, but Alex dreaded what Roman would do to Katie and Dawn if he ever got his hands on them.
He definitely couldn’t afford to have feelings for sweet Katie McCloud. She might be by far the best sex he’d ever had, but he could not fall for her. Not now. Not ever.
His head said to get rid of her—immediately, but his gut shouted to keep her—forever.
Did he dare continue sleeping with her? Was he strong enough to hold himself emotionally apart from her while he sated his bodily needs with her? Except it wasn’t only his bodily needs she fulfilled, and he was a fool to pretend otherwise. He loved being loved.
He swore violently and tossed back another whiskey before stretching out on the couch in his office. He might have given her his bed tonight, but he wasn’t about to give her his soul.
Katie woke up slowly. Soft cotton beneath her cheek and an insanely comfortable mattress lulled her back to sleep several times before she finally roused for good. The sheets were black. She frowned. Where was she?—
Memory flooded back all at once of the party with Alex. Him cutting her dress off her. Everything that followed. She’d given herself over to him completely, and he’d made her scream like he’d said he would. Even now, a shudder of delight passed through her to remember the things he’d done to her and with her.
She sat up in the gigantic bed, stretching out the kinks, and looked around the big bedroom, perplexed. Where was Alex? He hadn’t joined her last night at all. No surprise. She seemed to freak him out more than a little. Which she chose to take as a good sign that she was getting through those emotional walls of his.
Naked, she climbed out of bed. There was no sign of her ruined dress anywhere. She peeked through a closed door and found a perfectly organized walk-in closet. Did Alex keep it that neat, or did he have a butler stashed around here somewhere?
She tried another door. This one led to the master bath. It retained a faint trace of humidity as if Alex had been in here since last night to bathe. She did the same, now.
The hot water pounded away most of her soreness from last night. She dried off, wrapped the biggest towel she could find around herself, and prayed for luck. All of her clothes were in the guest bedroom and there was a nun in the condo somewhere, for crying out loud.
She snuck into the hallway and crept down the hall to her room, lurching guiltily as she heard the nun’s voice in the kitchen talking to Dawn. Katie bolted into her room and eased the door shut quickly. Breathing a sigh of relief, she blow dried her hair in the attached bathroom, put on a little make-up, and dressed.
Pasting on a bright smile, she stepped into the kitchen and called a cheery hello to Sister Mary Harris. Chicken that she was, Katie stuck her head in the refrigerator and went hunting for orange juice rather than look the nun in the eye.
The nun looked up from a skillet of scrambled eggs loaded with chopped ham and minced vegetables. It looked insanely tasty. “I figured you’d be hungry after your big night, last night,” the nun announced.
Katie choked on the orange juice she was drinking but managed not to spew it all over the counter.
“Where’s Alex?” she asked when she recovered her breath.
“He went out a while ago. Left a note that he’d be back later this morning.”
Hmm. She didn’t know whether to be worried by that or not. She supposed it was all part of his secretive personality not to share where he was going with her.
“How’s Dawn?”
“A perfect angel. Slept six hours at once last night. Eats well. Digestion regular.”
Katie moved over to the baby who was wriggling happily in a car seat strapped securely to a kitchen chair. Clever improvisation of a high chair.
“Good morning, sweetie,” she cooed at the baby.
Dawn gurgled and waved her arms excitedly.
Sister Mary Harris commented, “She reacts to you as if you’re her mother. But she’s not your biological child?”
“Alex delivered Dawn, but her mother died in childbirth. We were in the middle of a war zone and had to flee, so we took Dawn with us.”
“What does Alex think of her?” the nun asked carefully.
“He’s great with her. He feeds her and changes her and plays with her.”
“Does he hold her?”
Katie turned her full attention on the nun, who suddenly was very busy plating up the scrambled eggs and slices of bacon she pulled out of a warming drawer. “Frequently. Why do you ask?”
The nun sat down at the table, murmured a blessing, and deliberately unfolded a napkin in her lap before answering, “Alex has never been one to show much affection. He never liked to touch others or be touched.”
Katie frowned. “He hugged me and held me all the time during our escape from Zaghastan. I was scared a lot.”
The nun eyed Katie with renewed interest.
They ate in silence for several minutes before Sister Mary Harris spoke again. “I always believed Alex was trying to punish himself by denying himself physical contact with others.”
Katie looked up quickly. “For what?”
The nun shrugged. “Maybe for driving his mother away. Later, he took the sins of the father upon himself, too. No matter how often priests absolved him, he never seemed to believe them.”
“He told me his mother stayed in Russia when he and his father and brothers emigrated.”
“She did. And he didn’t drive her away. But he takes responsibility for everyone around him. He’s a very protective person.”
Interesting . “Tell me something, sister. Has he always struggled to let people love him?”
The nun laughed merrily. “Struggled is not the word I would use. Flatly refusing to let people love him would be more accurate.”
“Why’s that?”
The nun leaned forward and said intently, “Who in his past showed him he’s lovable? His mother abandoned him. His father ignored him. And when his father did notice him, it was to treat him like a spy recruit in need of constant correction and training.”
“Can you tell me more about his father?”
“Not really. We only saw him when he dropped off Alex at the beginning of each school year. After his arrest, Alex was practically one of our orphans. As I recall, a lawyer did an extensive search for his mother or another relative to raise him.”
“His mother what? Died? Disappeared?”
The nun shrugged. Katie carried her plate and the nun’s to the sink. She rinsed them thoughtfully and put them into the dishwasher.
“I’ll finish cleaning up here,” the nun murmured.
Katie was drying her hands when her cell phone vibrated in her jeans pocket. She pulled it out quickly, hoping it was Alex.
It was not. Instead, the text read, “I need to speak with you this morning. It’s urgent. Has to do with your friend. My office, one hour. Say nothing to him about it.”
She knew the phone number. It was Uncle Charlie’s. She asked the nun, “Do you need to be somewhere this morning, or could I duck out for a little while to take care of some business and leave you with Dawn?”
“I’m retired, Miss Katie. I don’t have to be anywhere until I join my Maker. You go on. Dawn and I will have a stroll around Mister Alex’s lovely garden and take a little nap.”
“Thank you,” Katie said gratefully. On impulse she hugged the elderly nun. “For everything.”
Sister Mary Harris patted Katie’s cheek. “God bless you, child. And may you bless Alex. He needs you.”
Stunned, Katie stared down at the small woman. “From your mouth to God’s ear,” she murmured.
The nun laughed gaily. “I’ll see what I can do about that. Now go on. Dawn and I will be fine.”
Katie hurried to the nearest Metro stop. She pulled out her Metro card, which had managed to survive a war zone and her wild escape from it. Her mind whirling with the nun’s revelations about Alex, she rode to Langley.
After passing through the security checkpoint outside, she stopped at the Visitor’s Desk just inside the sprawling CIA building. “I’m here to see Charles McCloud. He’s expecting me.”