Lie to Me by Tori St. Claire

stopped fussing over Sasha and sat across from Alexei. “You going to call this in to Clarke and Hughes or am I?”
    Alexei grimaced. The one phone call he wanted to make even less than the call to Kadir was to Kevin Clarke, the Black Opals’ director, and Oliver Hughes, England’s MI6 director, who they were presently reporting to. Killing the sheikh Hughes had specifically intended to groom for further operations after this one was concluded wouldn’t go over well, to say the least. When Hughes heard Saeed was dead, he’d have Alexei’s ass for breakfast. When Clarke learned the news, he’d chew up whatever parts were left. Neither would particularly believe Alexei hadn’t had a choice. Not when his body count had recently climbed so high.
    One more to add to the ever-growing list.
He glanced at Sasha. At least the prize was on its way home. The two directors couldn’t say he’d failed in his mission objective.
    Letting out a grunt, Alexei fished his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call.”
    “You seem…distracted.” Grigoriy’s gaze pointedly slanted to Sasha. “Usually you’d have dialed by now.”
    He shot Grigoriy a scathing glare. Damn right, he was distracted. In one night he’d discovered Irina was Sasha, experienced a mind-numbing orgasm, shot a man he didn’t want to kill, learned Kadir’s loyalties were questionable, and blown his cover. What had been a simple assignment to return the Nobel Laureate’s daughter to her distraught father had turned into a task filled with complications. Not the least of which was the fact that, despite all the logic in the world, he still wanted to fuck Sasha senseless.
    If he’d been able to focus strictly on the mission at this point, he’d question his sanity.
    Grigoriy’s damnable grin registered in his dark eyes once more. He slapped a hand on Alexei’s shoulder and rose to his feet as the plane lurched forward. “You call. I’ll tend to our patient.”
    When Grigoriy pushed a thick lock of Sasha’s hair off her forehead and she offered him the first smile Alexei had witnessed in two long, tormented years, something snapped deep inside. He’d shared women with Grigoriy over the years. But as Grigoriy’s hand slipped down the curve of Sasha’s calf and his fingers gently wrapped around her swollen ankle, Alexei became possessed by the fierce urge to tear his partner’s hand away.
    He started to rise, intending to do just that.
    “It’s about damn time you checked in. Where the hell are you?”
    Hughes’s demanding greeting dropped Alexei back into his chair, but his narrowed gaze remained on Sasha and Grigoriy. Recognizing the growl that crept up his throat for what it was, he blinked. What thehell was the matter with him? Women never got under his skin. He never let them in that far. Yet this tempting little liar…
    “Alexei, I want answers.”
    Right. Work. Mission. Not the uncomfortably intimate scene playing out before him. He choked down his irrational reaction and frowned at the phone. “We’re in the air.”

Eight
    T he crisp masculine English that broke through Alexei’s phone took Sasha by surprise. Eyebrows raised, she glanced at the receiver in Alexei’s hand. Why wasn’t he talking to Russia, or at least someone from there? As a matter of fact, why wasn’t he calling her father?
    Alexei’s ever-present scowl darkened as his eyes rested on hers and he replied. “Had a bit of difficulty at the palace.”
    “Difficulty?” Wariness crept into the Englishman’s voice. “What the bloody hell did the both of you do?”
    “Uh-uh,” Grigoriy protested with a shake of his head. “Don’t look at me. I drove the car as requested.” He tossed Alexei a smirk that said,
You’re on your own, pal.
With a wink to Sasha, he removed the ice from her foot and began to examine her ankle.
    His good humor was the only thing making this evening remotely tolerable. She smiled again and watched the gentle way he manipulated her ankle,