Flight of the Raven by Rebecca York

Author:Rebecca York
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Suspense
Publisher: Harlequin Treasury
Published: 1986-11-11T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Aleksei crooked his finger under her chin. “Julie, if you’re a spy, I’m a Russian Orthodox priest. And nobody has ever accused me of that.” From the first he’d sensed her discomfort with the role someone was forcing her to play. Now he was determined to find out what she really knew.

But she seemed just as determined to unmask him. “Just what have you been accused of?”

The question struck chords she couldn’t be aware existed.

“The less you know about me, the better.”

“Why?”

In frustration, he ran a hand through his thick black hair. “We must talk, and there’s so little time.” Taking her hand, he drew her to the couch that occupied an alcove across from the two beds. Before releasing her fingers, he pressed them tightly.

“I think we could both use a drink.”

Like most European hotel rooms, this one was equipped with a minibar. It was locked, but that didn’t bother Aleksei. Julie watched in fascination as he hunkered down, pulled out something that looked like a Swiss army knife, and selected a tool. In a moment he had picked the lock and opened the door. He turned and looked back at her. “A brandy, I think.”

“I can’t drink on an empty stomach.”

“Did you miss dinner too?”

“Yes. But why didn’t you eat?”

“I’ve been too worried about you.” The admission should never have left his lips. He looked down quickly and began inspecting the contents of the small refrigerator. “We can share a bag of corn chips, some salted almonds, and a candy bar for dinner.”

After bringing the snacks and two brandies back to the coffee table in front of the sofa, he sat down next to her.

“So we both know you’re not a spy. Then how are you involved in this?”

With slow deliberation, she opened one of the packages and took out a salted almond. The feeling of trust for him had been growing. But was that confidence misplaced? Was she being carefully led down a path that he had chosen? Or even worse, had this whole evening been staged to gain her confidence?

“Look at me,” he demanded.

Unwillingly, she raised her dark eyes to meet his blue ones. They had deepened to the cobalt color she had come to associate with strong emotion. “Julie, you are still in a great deal of danger. T’fu!” He spat out the Russian expletive, using it as an outlet for his frustration. “And I can’t do a damn thing about it unless you help me.”

“You’re asking me to betray my country.”

“No.”

“Then what?”

He sighed. “Let me start with a very basic assumption. You know absolutely nothing about what Dan Eisenberg was involved in. Am I correct?”

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Then someone—presumably a CIA operative—is using you to try and get information about Eisenberg’s activities. But he can’t care very much about your welfare if he gave you that ticket and sent an innocent like you to the theater on a fishing expedition.”

“That’s not right. I found the ticket in Dan’s desk after he died.”

His eyes narrowed.

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