Read Online Stripped by Tori St. Claire - Free Book Online Page B

Aaron turned to investigate what had drawn Brandon’sattention, a knowing grin broke across his face. Natalya hustled into her office. Small wonder Aaron had smirked. The whole damn hallway could have felt the tension that crackled between her and Brandon.
    Maybe stripping for Brandon wouldn’t be the best idea she’d ever had.
    Then again, she couldn’t deny a small part of her reveled in the possibility of what might happen when she did exactly as Aaron suggested and dropped her clothes in front of Brandon Moretti. She liked the way he made her feel.
    Moreover, she had elicited more than one secret between the sheets, and Brandon put a whole new meaning on the term
undercover operative
.
    She shook herself. What was she thinking? If Moretti worked for Dmitri and she yielded to his smoldering stare, she’d sign her death wish. He’d tell Dmitri everything.
    No, under no circumstance could she entertain the idea of what it might feel like to have Brandon’s hands on her breasts, his lips following the stroke of his fingers. But dear God, the very thought lit her up brighter than the neon lights outside.
    For the third time in easily as many weeks, she found herself wondering what had ever compelled her to join the Black Opals. She could have worked in foreign policy. Translated for government leaders. But no, all that had been too… normal.
    Now, she barely remembered what normal was like.

Six
     
    G

o on. Get out of here.” Natalya released Kate from her impromptu hug and unlocked her office door. “Sergei will follow you home.”
    Kate’s face paled to the color of fine porcelain, and her eyes widened to twice their normal size. She adjusted her glasses, glanced nervously over her shoulder. “What about you?”
    “Me?” Natalya blinked. How long had it been since someone had legitimately worried about her safety? Five years? Ten? She’d spent so long with a gun tucked into her waistband that she’d forgotten other people didn’t share the same confidence.
    She shook her head to ward off the sudden discomfort and used her toe to point to her purse. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got all the protection I need in there.”
    That coupled with an upcoming wedding to the world’s most powerful mafia boss—a girl couldn’t ask for safer passage through dark alleys. Sure as her gun was loaded, there’d be eyes following her home tonight. Keeping her safe. Never questioning her unfaltering loyalty.
    As long as she kept it that way, she didn’t need to worry about anything.
    “Go,” she urged. “We’ll sneak out for lunch tomorrow and talk then.”
    Kate stopped in the doorway. “I hate this.”
    “I know.” Unceremoniously, Natalya shut the door, pushing Kate out of the way.
    She sank into her chair feeling more drained than she had in thelast year as Dmitri’s go-to girl. One full day had passed, and they were no closer to identifying Iskatel´, much less Yakov, than they’d been in Russia. She knew nothing more about Fantasia’s employees than what she’d discovered in the CIA records. Other than the fact that Jill made it imminently clear she considered Brandon her personal property.
    Which could be legitimate possessiveness, or it could be a front to keep Yakov disguised. Hell, Natalya had played Iskatel´’s part in Russia—why shouldn’t it be a woman in America?
    Because it made sense for Iskatel´ to be a guy. Women trusted men easier, for the most part. In strip clubs cattiness abounded, and she’d only succeeded in gaining the victims’ trust because she
didn’t
dance. Jill danced. Jill made it known she wanted top billing.
    Besides, Brandon and his team had taken three management positions in three years. It could be no coincidence that he took over at Fantasia less than two weeks before the next job.
    A light rap on Natalya’s door brought her upright and dragged her from her thoughts. “It’s open.”
    Brandon’s voice rumbled through the metal barrier. “We’re done.