Alex's heart was thumping, the blood racing through his veins. He felt like he'd just bluffed a win from a nine and a five.

Conrad hadn't agreed, but Alex had seen a flash of interest in the other man's eyes. Even after all these years, the prick still wanted him. Which meant he had discovered a weakness. A weakness that could be exploited.

And fuck, he was going to exploit the hell out of that one. Because he hadn't known until that bastard had sat down and started with the implications how deeply, terribly angry he was. The rage was a fire in his blood and he wanted Conrad South to burn. Wanted him at his mercy. Begging. Maybe even begging for his life the way Conrad had made him beg once.

"Sir?" Katya's voice was soft, but when he looked down into her eyes he could see the concern in them. "You staked your clubs?"

The anger inside him turned, morphing into something else, fire of a different sort.

He shouldn't have kissed her like that, but, shit, when Conrad had brought up the past he'd had to get the upper hand back. Refuting the other man's claim on him with a public display of his sexuality.

Yet that kiss ...

He stared at Katya, at the full softness of her mouth. She'd tasted like summer, all sweetness and heat, and he'd almost forgotten about the man sitting across from him. Almost forgotten his reasons for kissing her in the first place.

And you want to do it again.

Yeah, he did. It was all kinds of bad and all kinds of wrong; it crossed the lines he'd drawn and then some. But he couldn't leave now and he had to master this anger somehow. And the best way he knew of to do that was to master someone else.

Master her.

Fury raged under the surface of his skin, slipping out of his control, adrenaline pouring through him like the rush that comes from a needle and the very purest heroin.

His fingers were still twisted in her hair, the strands silky and soft against his skin. He curled them tighter, drawing her head back against his shoulder. "Here's the deal," he murmured roughly in her ear. "We can't leave yet. Conrad would see it as a weakness and there's no way I'm giving him that kind of ammunition. But that leaves me with two choices. Either I get your gun from your purse and put a bullet in him. Or I show him I don't give a fuck in some other way, just in case he comes back."

Her body tensed against his. "What way?"

"I think you know."

She tensed even more, staying silent a long moment. Then she said quietly, ignoring him, "There is something between you two. I can sense it. He's more than merely an enemy, isn't he?"

Of course she would have picked up on the tension between him and Conrad. She was too sharp, too perceptive, not to. She'd probably even figured out the nature of it, which meant he had to shut down this conversation before she started asking questions. Questions there was no way in hell he was going to answer.

"That's none of your fucking business. You said you would protect me. So now it's goddamn time to protect me."

She gave him a wordless, measuring look. Like she could see past his anger to what was underneath. "That is not what I meant."

His hand had started to shake where it was knotted in her hair and across the room he could see Conrad talking to a group of people. The other man's gaze kept returning to where Alex and Katya sat, watching them....

He'd only begged once before in his life and he'd sworn he'd never do it again.

But he did.

"Please, Katya," Alex whispered hoarsely. "Because I am drowning and I need you to save me."

Beneath the chatter of conversation he heard the rush of her indrawn breath. Felt her body go rigid. And he couldn't think why he'd said something like that. Not when it admitted to a weakness he couldn't afford.

Katya twisted her head, looking up at him, the light shimmering over the gown where it pulled tight over her breasts, the gold sparkling in time with her breathing. He didn't want to meet that searching gaze of hers, but he made himself do it. Made himself hold it.

There was an expression he didn't understand in her eyes, but he felt the moment the tension left her body. When she relaxed against him. "Tell me what you want," she said.

He ignored the relief, since he had no room in him for anything other than need and rage. Shifting, he angled his body so she was tucked more closely against the side of the chair, then looked down at her. "I want control. Your complete obedience. I want you to do exactly what I say, when I say it. No questions. No arguments. No protests." He paused, letting her see exactly how serious he was about this. "And I want your consent."

Her gaze flickered, the smallest of hesitations. "You have it."

Just like that? Without even knowing what he was going to do or what her complete obedience would entail? "Katya. Are you sure?" Because he had to be.

"I am a soldier, sir. Following orders isn't anything new."

Christ. Of course she was a soldier. A courageous one. "I won't do anything to hurt you or embarrass you." The storm inside him relented a little. "And I promise that what you'll get in return is pleasure."

She looked away abruptly at that and he could feel a different sort of tension creep through her body. "I am not doing this for me. I am doing this for you."

No, that's not how it worked. That's not how he wanted it to work. He shifted again, reaching out and gripping her chin, turning her back to face him. "I don't just want your consent, Katya. I want your desire too." Because he'd never touched anyone who didn't want him and he wasn't about to start.

A flash of uncertainty crossed her features, that blank, Russian stoicism dropping for a moment to reveal an unexpected vulnerability. It made his chest tighten for reasons he didn't understand.

Her jaw tensed under his fingertips. "You know you have that already."

"I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you say it."

She let out a breath but didn't look away this time. "I want ... you, sir."

The desire that gripped him in response was almost shocking in its intensity.

This was supposed to be a bad idea, remember?

Perhaps it was. Then again, if he could manage the intensity of this he'd be able to manage anything Conrad threw at him. Hell, it would even be a good test.

"Sir," he echoed. "That's the third time you've said it in public. Which means I win our little bet and you owe me a forfeit."

A fleeting, puzzled look crossed her face. "What forfeit?"

"This," he murmured. And because she'd given him her consent and had surrendered to him the control, he used it.

Alex bent his head and took her mouth.

Softness and heat engulfed him, such a heady contrast to that cold, expressionless front she liked to put up. The taste of her went straight to his head like the very finest champagne. Like a straight flush in his hand and millions on the table.

She stiffened against him a second, then relaxed, her lips parting as if she'd been waiting for him to kiss her all this time. Jesus, she was delicious.

He swept his tongue deep into her mouth, spreading his fingers in her hair, cradling the back of her head and tilting her so he could kiss her deeper, explore her more completely.

Now he had the control, the rage inside him began to fade, melting away in the heat of the kiss, allowing him to take his time, subsume himself totally in the taste of her.

Katya gave a little sigh and he felt her respond, her tongue tentative as it touched his, as if she hadn't done this before and wasn't sure of what to do. Her hesitancy was seductive, so he demanded more, intensifying the kiss, craving her submission to the desire that had taunted him from that moment on the plane when she'd bent over him, teased him.

He let it burn for a while longer, then lifted his head, staring down into her face.

A deep flush colored her cheeks, the green of her eyes stained with small gold flecks, vivid against her pink skin. Her stoic Russian front had gone, leaving in its place a deep well of sensuality he'd never guessed at. He could see it in her eyes, in the shortness of her breath, and in the way she said nothing at all, merely staring at him as if she wanted him to kiss her again.

Christ, how satisfying was that? It made him feel good that he could do this to her. That he could get under her guard and under her skin.

He flexed his fingers in the gold silk against his palm. "Why do you have long hair?" he asked, giving in to idle curiosity. "I've been wondering for a while."

"I'm not sure that's relevant to-"

"No protests. No arguments. And complete obedience," he reminded her, his fingers curling tight.

Her gaze wavered and he could see realization begin to dawn in her about what she'd agreed to. And that this was clearly a painful topic. But shit, she'd seen what Conrad had done to him. She'd heard him beg her to save him. Why couldn't he demand a little something in return?

"It's neat and easy to braid," she answered eventually.

"Liar." He could always tell. "The real reason, Katya."

Dark, gold-shot lashes lowered, her attention focused on his throat. "My mother used to brush my hair when I was little. It's the only thing I have left of her."

The words hit him like the glancing of a badly aimed punch, the raw note in them unexpectedly painful. "Your mother?"

"She died when I was young. A long time ago." This time her voice was flat, indicating that this was a closed subject.

So ... she'd lost a parent too. Sympathy clenched like a fist in his chest, catching him unprepared.

He shifted the hand behind her head so his thumb was free, running it along her cheekbone, touching the smooth skin gently. "I'm sorry. That must have been tough."

But the tension in her jaw didn't relax, and when her lashes rose the look in her eyes was like a door shutting in his face. "It was a long time ago," she repeated. "I have forgotten her."

Another lie. If she'd forgotten why was her hair still long?

He wanted to push, wanted to find out more. But this wasn't the time or the place for confidences. And he hadn't set out to discover the secrets of her soul, only to master her physically for a few brief moments.

Shifting his free hand to her waist, Alex moved it higher, gently cupping one breast. Her mouth opened in a soundless gasp, the gold in her eyes flaring. "Then let me make sure she stays forgotten," he said softly. "In fact, I can make sure everything stays forgotten."

Katya was so warm, her nipple hard beneath the clinging fabric of her gown.

"There are two things I should tell you first," Katya said, her voice thick as mink fur.

He paused but didn't remove his hand. "What?"

"I have made a promise to someone." She took a short, hard breath. "A promise to a man."

The oddest sensation twisted inside him. Almost like ... jealousy. Which was weird because he'd never been jealous of anyone before. You had to care in order to be envious and he'd never cared. But for reasons he didn't understand, he found himself caring now. "Mikhail?"

"Yes."

Mikhail Vasin. Who wasn't here.

Alex kept his hand right where it was. "And the second thing?"

Katya didn't look away. "I am a virgin."

Alex's eyes widened and no wonder. He probably didn't meet very many virgins. Perhaps she shouldn't have said anything. Then again, she wasn't ashamed of it and if he was going to touch her it was better that he knew she was a novice at this kind of thing in case her reactions were off.

She was still angry at him for forcing her to reveal the truth about her hair. About why she'd kept it long. The realization had been painful because she'd never examined her own reasons for it too closely, and yet he'd managed to get it out of her with ease. All it had taken had been the command in his voice and she'd obeyed like the soldier she was.

Maybe that was why she'd told him about her virginity. To get back at him.

"You're a virgin," he repeated flatly.

She was very conscious of how tense his body had gotten beneath hers, a frown appearing between his straight, dark brows. His hand didn't move away, but neither did it stroke her. It was maddening.

Her skin burned, her gown feeling even tighter than it was already. She'd never been touched like that before, never dreamed it could make her feel so much and with such intensity. Sometimes, on nights when she'd been unable to sleep, she'd given herself a brief, pleasant orgasm. A simple release, nothing more. But the feeling of Alex's hand on her body was nothing like her own. She couldn't control it, for a start, and that fact alone had turned out to be far more erotic than it had any right to be.

"Yes," she said. "I hope that isn't a problem."

"Fuck, you really have to ask?" Alex's voice was hard. "Of course it's a problem. Why the hell didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"Because it wasn't any of your business."

"Jesus, Katya." He began to take his hand away.

I am drowning and I need you to save me ...

A heavy weight shifted in her chest and she found she was reaching for his hand, her fingers closing hard around his wrist, holding it exactly where it was. The feelings his touch had generated inside her were confusing, yet she didn't want him to stop.

There had been something very satisfying in knowing he had the command. And that she was to obey him. It calmed her.

Well, of course. You're a soldier. You're born to obey.

No, it was more than that. A commanding officer gave the orders and the soldiers obeyed, but there was no give-and-take. With Alex it was different. She could see how her surrender to him had instantly made him relax. Made that terrible, burning rage in his eyes fade, leaving behind open hunger. For her.

Giving up control should have undermined her strength and yet it didn't. For some reason it only made her feel more powerful.

She didn't understand it, but one thing she was sure of; she wanted more.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, blue eyes glinting. "We can't go on; you realize that, don't you?"

"No, I don't." She could feel the tension in his arm, his muscles tight and hard. He was strong, and if she was to fight him he wouldn't go down easy. "I don't want you to stop."

"If you want me to be the one to introduce you to the gentle delights of sex, you've got the wrong man, darling." His voice held a bitter edge to it. "I don't do virgins."

"You said you were drowning. That you wanted me to save you. So let me save you."

There was anger again in his eyes and she didn't understand it. "Let go of my hand, Katya." The words were quiet, but she heard the steel in them.