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about the way Sergei gazed at her with that shrewd assessment made Hannah feel as if he’d stripped away her secrets and seen right into her soul.
    Which was absurd, because she didn’t
have
any secrets. ‘Not really,’ she said, smiling. ‘My mother taught me when I was little, but I never got past purling. She gave up on me eventually, much to my relief.’
    ‘I see.’ And in those two words Hannah heard how much he saw, or at least thought he saw. He really did have a dark view of the world, she decided, reading the worst into everything. He was starting to make her do that a little bit too, and she didn’t like it.
    ‘I like the business side of it,’ she said, even though that wasn’t quite true.
She didn’t mind it
would be more accurate.
    ‘And so you continue with this shop alone.’
    ‘Why shouldn’t I?’ He was still watching her, his eyes narrowed, lips parted. Everything about him seemed sharp and hard except for those lips. They were soft, mobile, warm-looking. She was really quite fascinated with them. Hannah jerked her gaze upwards. ‘I can’t imagine doing anything else,’ she said simply. ‘And I have lots of plans to improve it.’
    ‘It needs improving?’
    ‘Doesn’t everything? In any case, as I said before, the shop was everything to my mom and dad. I can’t just let that go.’
    ‘But to you?’
    ‘It’s very important to me,’ she said firmly, but she felt, for the first time, as if she was lying. The realisation jolted her, like when you thought there was one more step on a staircase.
    ‘Tell me about this trip of yours,’ Sergei said. ‘Have you been to many places?’
    ‘A few.’ She smiled, glad not to think about the shop any more. ‘I bought a rail pass and have been working my way through Europe. Moscow was the last stop.’
    ‘Which would account for the flight you missed about two hours ago.’
    She swallowed, reality landing with an unwelcome thud. ‘Right.’
    ‘With my help, I don’t think it should be difficult to reschedule your flight tomorrow.’
    Relief mingled with reality. Even so, as glad as she would be to have her passport sorted, she didn’t want this night to end. Yet if she believed Sergei—which she did—she’d be back in Hadley Springs in twenty-four hours. ‘You can pull some serious strings, I guess,’ Hannah said. It was hard to imagine that kind of power.
    Sergei shrugged one shoulder, the movement one of careless and understated authority. ‘In Russia it is all about who you know.’
    ‘Well, I obviously didn’t know the right people. The lady at the embassy wasn’t interested in my sob story at all.’ Hannah smiled wryly before quickly adding, ‘She was helpful and nice, of course—’
    ‘Of course,’ Sergei agreed, his amused tone suggesting he thought otherwise. He leaned forward, eyes glinting. ‘Or maybe she was just a miserable cow who never spares a thought for the hapless traveller who comes to her window.’
    Hannah shook her head slowly. ‘Do you think the worst of everyone?’
    ‘I haven’t thought the worst of you,’ Sergei pointed out blandly.
    Curious, she raised her eyebrows. ‘And just what would the worst about me be?’
    ‘That you planned to be pickpocketed in my presence so I’d help you—’
    Hannah nearly choked on the wine she’d been sipping.
‘What?’
    ‘And then finagle and flirt your way into my good graces, and most likely my bed.’
    Now Hannah really did choke. She doubled over, coughing and sputtering, while Sergei solicitously poured her more water. She straightened, wiping her streaming eyes, and stared at him in disbelief. ‘Do women really
do
that kind of thing? To you?’
    Another one-shoulder shrug. ‘On occasion.’
    She shook her head, incredulous and reeling a little bit from the casual mention of his bed. And her in it. ‘And they’re not scared off by your incredibly surly attitude?’
    Now he grinned, properly, not a lazy smile that Hannah suspected was meant