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as his hands, but still nice. “In the bastard’s warped mind he decided a spa day would appease me. Every princess needs one of those, right?” Bitter laughter escaped her lips. “A massage, a mani-pedi, and all’s forgiven. He lined up a complete package…hair, nails, sauna, makeup. Had to get me ready for the summit tomorrow. So he sent me to a private place that caters to his cabinet members and their wives. I used a pair of earrings he gave me—he claimed they were family heirlooms—to bribe the spa manager for a few hours alone. Then I climbed out a bathroom window while I was supposed to be in the steam bath and stole the car.”
    Ryan got to his feet and sat on the bed next to her. The bed sagged from his weight. “Industrious.”
    His approval filled her with pride. “Grams always said you have to work with what you’ve got.” And I don’t have much at the moment .
    Except she did. She glanced at Ryan from the corner of her eye.
    Sitting close enough their shoulders touched, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the door. Even his thinking was charged with tension.
    But, she had to admit, all that energy coiled in his body was fierce and…sexy. “We need to get you back before they notice you’re missing.”
    Anya’s knee bobbed. I don’t want to go back . “Inga—my babysitter—told me lots of the wives sneak out of the spa and meet lovers on the side. That’s how I got the idea to bribe the manager with the earrings. The manager will cover for me as long as possible, but not forever.”
    More thinking.
    You help us, we’ll help you.
    Anya stayed quiet. The thought of returning to the Palace, to Ivanov, made her skin crawl, but Ryan needed her to find proof of Ivanov’s plans. What was he going to ask her to do?
    He shifted to look her in the face. So brown, his eyes. So serious. “You don’t have to go back if you don’t want to. I’ll make some calls. Get you into some type of protective custody.”
    What? She met his stare. “No way. I have to go back to the Palace. Ivanov will kill Grams if I don’t.”
    “You’re sure he’s got her? Have you seen her?”
    A sick dread crept into her stomach. “No.”
    He uncrossed his arms, attention dropping to her lips as he leaned back on the bed with one hand, his casualness belying the gears churning behind the calm, impassive face. “This type of undercover work is rough. Things could get…intense. More intense than an accidental slip of Ivanov’s knife.”
    She raked her teeth over her bottom lip. Ryan’s eyes flashed with a bit of heat at the gesture. She forced her knee to stop bobbing and put her hand over his. She could do this. With his help. “I can handle it.”
    They stayed that way for a long minute. Anya’s face heated from the intensity of his stare. Her heart beat fast, echoing in her ears. Would he trust her? Would he stay in Russia and help her find Grams if she helped him nail Ivanov?
    Suddenly, there was more to the heat in his eyes. More than the adrenaline from the close brush with the police and the anger over Ivanov’s rough treatment lingering in his body. The tension changed, morphed into something else. Something that made her smile, unexpectedly feeling very female.
    He blinked, and just like that, the heat was gone. He slid his hand out from under hers. Stood and moved toward the door. “Your assignment will be twofold, then. Obtain proof of life regarding your grandmother and evidence against Ivanov regarding the nukes. I’ll be attending the summit meeting, so I can help you. There’s not much we can do at this point about his playing God with genes, but we sure as hell can stop him from adding to his nuclear arsenal.” He turned back and looked at her. “I’ll give you a quick rundown of evidence to look for before we drive you back to Moscow. Think you can handle it?”
    Of course she could handle it. Didn’t mean she wasn’t freaking out inside. “I pocketed a launch key from