The Russian Seduction by Nikki Navarre

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    “If you have talking points to deliver, we can have that discussion right here,” she pointed out, trying to ignore the thrill of challenge that zinged through her.
    “Immediately after you’ve cancelled your meeting, one presumes, with that senior NATO official?”
    Damn it, she wasn’t going to let him provoke her. But he was going to make her tackle the underlying issue head on. “If you think that I’ll—that I’d do anything inappropriate just to get the jump on my ex, captain, you’re gravely mistaken. He’s my direct supervisor…at least for the moment. As such, I owe him my full support.”
    The support he says I never gave him while we were married, she finished silently.
    “I said nothing of the kind.” Lazily, Kostenko reached without looking to pinch out his cigarette on the snowy ledge. “But the terms are non-negotiable, and they expire in five minutes if you’re not sitting next to me in my car. Do you accept my proposal?”
    “I can’t believe you’re serious!” She ran agitated hands over her hair, smoothing loose tendrils behind her ears. Somehow, she had to get this conversation back on track. “We’re talking about the fate of nations here, captain, and you’re treating it like a game of roulette.”
    “We are discussing the security of both Ukraine and the Russian Federation, neither of which I take at all lightly.” In the pearlescent gloom of the early arctic night, his features were chiseled granite—a Russian game face, yielding nothing. “Do you accept the terms, Ms. Castle? Tell me now.”
    Half-a-dozen practical considerations crowded her brain. But beneath them simmered a wicked excitement that it was imperative she manage. The stakes were far too high to make a decision based on impulse—with the potential to impact global security, not to mention torpedo her own career. Yet this senior Russian diplomat had challenged her directly, and she couldn’t afford to back away.
    “I can’t just walk out the door with you.” She worked to remain calm, keep her voice uninflected. “I’d need to lock up my office, tell my secretary where I’m going. I’d need to get my coat, for God’s sake. It’s twenty below zero and dropping out there!”
    “I am not preventing you.” He shrugged, not yielding an inch of terrain. “You may perform these tasks now.”
    “Before we agree, I’d need to make sure we’re clear, captain.” She made her face as cool as his, as though she dealt with outrageous ultimatums like this one a dozen times a day. “If I were to leave with you, I’d be committing to nothing, ah, physically.”
    His eyes narrowed. “Understood.”
    “And I can’t go strolling out past the Marines at three o’clock on a Friday afternoon,” she continued in mounting heat, “with a Captain First Rank of the Russian navy. It would be all over the Embassy grapevine before we even cleared the corner.”
    “All right.” He tilted his head, listening for her counterproposal. But she could tell by the satisfaction quirking his lips that he already knew he was going to get his way, the smug bastard.
    “I’ll meet you at the Uzbek restaurant near the metro station in fifteen minutes,” she conceded, trying to think clearly despite the riptides of anticipation that wanted to pull her out of her depth. “That’s the best I can do.”
    “In that case, we’ll need two hours.” He checked the pricey-looking Rolex strapped to his wrist. “To navigate the lamentable rush hour traffic.”
    “I can’t imagine what we’re going to talk about for two hours.” She fought down the blush that wanted to climb into her face as her imagination supplied the details. She had to make a stand here, mount some defense rather than give up the fort.
    “A word of caution before we leave,” she said firmly. “On your submarine, you may have been accustomed to having everything your way—”
    “You’d be surprised.” A gleam of devilry surfaced in his ice-blue eyes.