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      ‘I’d murder for a drink.’

      He smiled at the feeling in her voice. ‘Then I’ll meet you in the bar.’

      Not, ‘Would you care to meet me in the bar in half an hour?’, Allie noticed, just the arrogant assumption that he was in charge and she would have to fall in with his timetable. In a small act of defiance she opened the fridge that nestled under the built-in dressing-table and poured herself a soda, tilting back her head to savour its liquid coldness in her dry throat, the material of her blouse stretched across her breasts. After the first drink she gave a long sigh and licked her now cool tongue slowly over her parched lips. Glancing at Drake, Allie saw that his eyes were studying her, and she gave a small smile. ‘I thought you had some business to do,’ she reminded him.

      He blinked, nodded, said, ‘See you later.’ And went swiftly from the room.

      Although the building was old, the ceiling in the room high and corniced with ornate plasterwork, there was, thankfully, a very modern bathroom. Allie stripped off and stood under the shower to cool down, then padded around the room in her underwear while she unpacked her suitcase. There was a safe in the wardrobe and into it she put her valuables, and also a small but very important old notebook. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, she took her time in redoing her face and brushing the short blonde curls that clustered round her head like an angel’s halo. She found a sleeveless sun top and a short denim skirt, put them on and looked critically at her reflection for a couple of minutes, wondering whether to make Drake fall for her. He was certainly interested, she knew that already. And it might be amusing.

      But no, she decided, picking up her bag; if it got out of hand, if he got serious, it might make it difficult to get rid of him when the time came. Looking at her watch, she saw that she had already kept him waiting for nearly twenty minutes, so strolled down to the bar.

      Drake didn’t look at all put out by the wait, in fact was leaning against the bar chatting to another man in fluent Russian. He straightened when she came in, his eyes going over her and lingering just a little too long on her shapely legs. ‘Hello. What would you like to drink?’

      ‘Well, as I’m in Russia, I suppose it had better be vodka.’

      ‘With tonic?’

      ‘Please.’

      Drake gave the order to the barman and saw that his companion was looking at Allie with unconcealed interest. ‘Let me introduce you,’ he said dryly. ‘Sergei Morozov. Miss Alexandra Hayden.’

      ‘Allie,’ she said with a friendly smile as she extended her hand.

      It was taken and enveloped in the large hand of a man almost as tall as Drake, but with heavier features that were good-looking in a florid way. He had fair hair, was wearing a brown suit, but had a look in his eyes that spoke of a more extrovert nature under the conventional exterior. He gave her a polite bow and she had to take her hand from his as he showed no sign of releasing it. ‘Welcome to my country,’ he said expansively, as if he owned the place.

      ‘Why, thank you.’ Both men towered over her five feet three inches, so to make things more equal Allie climbed up onto a bar-stool. There was a momentary silence as both men savoured her legs while she did so, then Sergei said in good English, ‘You are on holiday in Moscow?’

      Allie gave Drake a flicking glance, then, seeing no reason to prevaricate, replied, ‘No, actually I’m here on business. I work for a computer information company, and we’ve been asked to put together material for a CD-ROM—a compact disk—on Fabergé.’

      ‘On Fabergé?’ He opened his hands in an extravagant gesture. ‘Then you have come to the best place in the world. But there is so much information. The factory made so many beautiful things.’

      ‘So I understand. But I’m concentrating on just the Easter eggs they made at the moment.’

      ‘Ah, of course. Everyone wants to see the famous eggs.’

      ‘I understand you have several here in Moscow?’

      ‘Yes, certainly. At the Armoury museum.’

      ‘That’s in the Kremlin, isn’t it?’

      ‘You are well-informed, Allie.’

      She smiled, but inwardly wondered if he really thought she would have undertaken a project like this without having first done her homework.

      Drake said casually, ‘As a matter of fact Sergei might be able to help you. He has free access to the Kremlin.’

      ‘You do?’ Allie’s eyes widened and she looked suitably impressed as she gazed at the Russian.

      He preened himself a little. ‘It is simply because of my work, you understand.’

      ‘Oh? What do you do?’

      ‘I am an architect, and an official in the department that deals with government buildings.’

      ‘And quite a high official,’ Drake put in.

      Sergei smiled and didn’t deny it, but went on, ‘And as the Kremlin is the most important government building in Moscow I have to keep a close eye on it.’

      ‘What a wonderful job,’ Allie said with open awe, but wondering if she was overdoing it a little.

      It seemed not. Sergei took her admiration as his due and said expansively, ‘It will be my pleasure to show you over the museum.’

      ‘How very kind of you. Actually I do have an appointment to meet a Professor Martos. I understand he’s the curator in charge of the Fabergé eggs.’

      ‘Ah, yes. I know him. I will speak to him and make sure he gives you all the help you need.’

      ‘That’s really very kind of you. I’m most grateful. I just know I’m going to have a wonderful time here.’

      She smiled sweetly at the Russian and he became expansive, telling her about the delights of Moscow that she mustn’t fail to see. After another half an hour and a couple more drinks that he allowed Drake to buy, he remembered he was supposed to be somewhere else and took himself off, first bowing low over Allie’s hand. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss it but he contented himself with pressing it meaningfully while looking into her eyes in open admiration.

      When he’d gone, Drake gave him five minutes, then said, ‘Drink up. Let’s get out of here.’

      They walked out into the late afternoon sunlight and made their way to Red Square. For a while Drake pointed out the familiar landmarks that she’d heard of so often: the Kremlin with its high surrounding wall, the Gum department store opposite, and the angular red stone of Lenin’s tomb.

      There were quite a few people about, mostly groups of tourists, but it wasn’t at all crowded. As they strolled along, Drake looked at her and said dryly, ‘You handled Sergei very well.’

      ‘He seems nice,’ she said guardedly, and saw his mouth quirk in wry amusement. ‘And wasn’t that what you intended—that I should be nice to him?’

      His head came round sharply and his eyes became intent. ‘Not at all. I merely thought СКАЧАТЬ