LITMIR.BIZ

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over her shoulder and saw the couple she’d been talking to had discreetly faded into the party. Liz turned back to him.

      “I guess I’ll do the introduction thing later.”

      “If you’d like.”

      He didn’t care if he never talked to anyone else. Liz was the one who interested him.

      “It’s been a long time,” he said.

      “Nearly five years.” She smiled. “Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have admitted to knowing the amount of time. Does that sound like I was pining?”

      “No. Were you?”

      Her smile widened. “Not all the time. And you?”

      “When I saw your name on the guest list, I knew I had to come by and see you again.”

      “Here I am.”

      He glanced at the elegant dress that skimmed her gorgeous curves before settling just above her ankles. Her large, dangling silver earrings had been replaced with gold-and-diamond studs. He recognized the brand of her watch and the air of confidence around her.

      “You’ve become successful,” he said.

      “Within my little world, yes. Do the paparazzi follow me around? Not exactly.”

      “Do you want them to?”

      She laughed. “Of course not. I’m simply pointing out that success is relative. I’ve won a few awards, pleased some well-placed clients, moved up the food chain.”

      “Good. Still living with the football players?”

      “No. It’s just me now, which is really better. When those two fought, they were impossible.”

      She wasn’t married. David told himself the information shouldn’t have mattered, but he liked knowing it.

      “What about you?” she asked. “How’s the spy business?”

      “I’ve been working on improving invisible ink.”

      “How’s that going?”

      “Great. Only my work keeps disappearing.”

      “That could be a problem.”

      David sounded the same, Liz thought happily. Still charming, still easy to be with, but he looked different. Harder, leaner, more dangerous. His dark eyes contained secrets. He might joke about invisible ink but she suspected the truth about his job would make her shiver with fear.

      He touched her arm and she felt the warm contact all the way to her toes.

      “What are you thinking?” he asked. “You just got serious.”

      She clutched her champagne glass and forced herself to relax. “You. When I was planning my trip, I wondered if you would be here. I thought about looking you up but…” She shrugged. “It was only one afternoon.”

      He stared deeply into her eyes. “It was a hell of a lot more than that.”

      Her stomach clenched slightly. It had been more for her, too.

      “Sometimes I thought I’d imagined it all,” she admitted. “That we hadn’t really connected that way so quickly.”

      “It was all real.”

      He moved a little closer. Close enough that breathing didn’t seem all that necessary. Close enough to make her grateful that her dress slipped on and off so easily. Close enough that she thought about kissing him and touching him and having him touch her back. She thought about the large embassy and the empty rooms and how they could—

      Liz consciously cleared her head and sucked in a breath. Time to regroup.

      “So,” she said, striving for a cheerful tone, “how’s Mrs. Logan?”

      He chuckled. “My mother is fine. Busy with her charity work. I’ll be sure to tell her you were asking. She was just here a few weeks ago. My parents visit a couple of times of year. It was cold and rainy for their visit, but you’ve come at a good time.”

      Moscow weather seemed like a safe topic. “I’m glad. I’m hoping to have time to see a few things while I’m here.”

      “Looking for a tour guide?”

      “Maybe. Do you know someone?”

      “A great guy.”

      David was only a few inches taller than she, yet he seemed so much larger. And safe. She liked the combination of erotic arousal and comfort she felt standing next to him.

      “Does he speak both English and Russian?” she asked.

      “Oh, yeah. He’s also passable in German but he could dazzle you in French.”

      “I’m not easily dazzled.”

      “He’s up to the task.”

      “Is he?”

      “I promise.”

      They were talking about more than just a tour of the city, she thought with a combination of excitement and trepidation. “Maybe you could give me his number.”

      “I thought I’d introduce you myself. That would make it more personal. How much time will you have to see the sights?”

      Liz took another sip of her champagne and realized David had no idea why she was in Moscow. Would the information change things? Silly question. Of course it would.

      “I have a couple of days until things get complicated,” she said. “I’m not here on vacation. I’m with the Children’s Connection group. I’m adopting a baby girl.”

      David’s expression didn’t change, nor did his body language, which told her she would never want to play poker against the man.

      “Weren’t you working with them when we first met?” he asked.

      “Yes. I did the artwork for their brochure.”

      “And now you’re adopting a baby through them. My family is a big supporter of what they do. That’s why my parents were here. Well, to visit me, too.”

      “How ironic we met last time because of Children’s Connection and here we are again, because of them,” she said.

      “Remind me to send a thank-you note.”

      She still couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He was so cool, she thought. Didn’t he have questions for her?

      “Do you want to comment on my decision to adopt?” she asked.

      He continued to study her face. “It’s an interesting choice for a single woman,” he said.

      “Agreed.” She shrugged. “There are a lot of reasons. I’m successful and I can afford to take care of a baby. My work schedule is flexible—another plus.”

      “Most women prefer to wait for home and husband.”

      “True enough. I have the home, but I’m not interested in waiting for the husband.”

      Getting married would mean falling in love and Liz wasn’t a fan of the process. In her world, romantic love cost too much and she wasn’t willing to pay.

      “At the risk of discussing something too personal, why don’t you have a child of your own?” he asked.

      “I’m sure you don’t remember, but I was raised by my grandmother.”

      “Of course. Your nana.” He raised his eyebrows. “She was Russian.”

      “I’m impressed you remembered.” More than impressed. Intrigued.

      “It’s the spy training. I never forget a detail.”

      Despite their relatively serious conversation, Liz smiled. “You’re still good-looking

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