Her full lips pressed down as she considered this. “Something to do with oil and pipelines—and you play polo with the Blood and Thunder polo team?”
“What do you know about the team?”
“Not much, but I can ride. I have a horse on the farm where I grew up.”
“Why did you leave the farm?”
For the first time, she hesitated. “Family differences,” she said at last.
Her CV told him she’d lost her father when she was twelve. The man had been covered in glory in the forces and killed in battle trying to save members of his platoon. Her mother had married again, taking her young daughter to live with her second husband on a remote hill farm. Alexei could make what he liked of that. There were no further details available to him.
“What brings you to Monte Carlo looking for a job?”
“I thought this would be the best place for me to gain the type of experience I need.”
At least she was partway honest. He knew the full story. He was testing her.
“You can’t come here to gain experience. I only accept fully trained crew. And you’ll wear a uniform in future. I hope you brought something warmer to wear in your downtime? It can be cold in Monaco at this time of year.”
“That’s why it’s not so popular with the big yachts around Christmastime,” she observed, frowning. “Obviously, I’m delighted that you’re here,” she added quickly.
“Obviously,” he said dryly. She was right in thinking that most of the superyachts followed the sun and would be in the Caribbean or in the southern hemisphere. “So you do have some warm clothes?”
“Oh yes. Flannelette pajamas, bed socks, jeans, and
a fleece,” she said, widening her eyes into innocent saucers.
She was bold enough to be cheeky. Interesting. But she appeared too innocent to fit his usual taste in women. “And you got all that in your knapsack?” he said, playing along.
“I did.” Her eyes sparkled with the knowledge that to know she had a knapsack with her, he must have been watching her as she’d boarded. “Does that mean I get to keep the job?”
“You get to be on trial.” He pulled away from the desk and straightened up. “And now you’re dismissed.”
She stood immediately.
“Report for duty at seven o’ clock.”
“Tonight?”
“Tomorrow morning, and every morning after that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can call me Alexei.”
“Yes”—her cheeks blushed red—“Alexei.”
He jerked his chin at the door and heard her sigh of relief as she closed it.
~o0o~
Amber’s legs were shaking. And what had she learned, other than the fact that Alexei Riga was a supercharge for her senses? She had never met a man so hard or so cold, not even during all her time in the forces. Having her body respond to him like a virgin awaiting the attention of the world’s most adept tutor in the erotic arts wasn’t helpful when she was here to get a story. Anything more than that was pure fantasy.
Mr. Chatty was waiting to take her back to her quarters. For now, she was under guard. She had no doubt that the officer had been tasked with keeping an eye on her. He struck her as efficient, but would he be good enough? She had a few tricks of her own up her sleeve.
~o0o~
Alexei Riga had certainly lived up to his reputation as an enigmatic hardman, Amber concluded once she was back in her cabin. She could confirm that the screens, phones, computers, and assorted technological gizmos in his quarters on board Russian Thunder were better suited to a war room than a billionaire’s study, and when Alexei Riga wore the ubiquitous uniform of blue jeans and black polo top, it suggested a warrior at ease rather than a billionaire too lazy to raid his wardrobe for something more stylish. His tanned, muscular body was a killing machine directed by a man with a steel-trap mind. She couldn’t help but fantasize about that same body delivering pleasure with unequaled skill. And those eyes—arctic ice best described them. Put them in the mix with Alexei Riga’s rugged features and impressive physique, and the complete package suggested the type of sexual energy that Amber’s underused body was only too eager to embrace. Fortunately, she had more sense.