The Moscow Affair Read online

  The Moscow Affair

  Book 1

  The Dangerous Affairs Series

  Sizzling International Intrigue

  By

  Taylor Lee

  Praise for The Moscow Affair…

  “A dangerously elegant man, a beautiful feisty young woman, take on the evils of the international sex trade while exploring a passionately erotic world of their own.” ~ J. Johnson

  “From the Russian Mafia to the Human Trafficking Arena, this book captures the reader with the power and immediacy of today’s riveting headlines. Throw in a dynamite love story and you have Sizzling Romantic Suspense at its best.” ~KDR

  “A spellbinding suspense filled international adventure coupled with a sizzling SEXY romance. Yum!” ~Sneaky Romance Reader

  “Her father’s sins; her lover’s crime; their dangerous past comes back to threaten her. Only their cunning and bravery overcome the evil men out to wreak their revenge.” ~Action Junkie

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  Afterword

  Other Works by Taylor Lee

  About the Author

  Contact Information

  Copyright Information

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  “Jesus Fucking Christ!”

  The United States Senator, and candidate for the presidency, leapt to his feet tipping over his wine glass in his haste. His muttered curse underscored the heat on his ruddy face as he stared at the doorway.

  Rafe chuckled to himself. He didn’t have to look at the door. All he had to see was the stunned expression on his illustrious guest’s face to know that Nicki had arrived. The normally composed Senator known for his patrician aplomb was clearly snockered. How else to explain his flushed face, harsh gasp and surreptitious move to place his napkin squarely on his groin as he gazed wide-eyed at the apparition in the entrance?

  Rafe rose to his feet, smiled at Nicki, and motioned her to enter. Striding the room, he held out his hand and caught hold of hers. Pulling her up close to him he kissed her cheek, a seemingly chaste meaningless gesture. But he didn’t miss her sharp gasp or the quick flush that stained her pale cheeks and chest. Fortunately, the United States Senator whose overturned wineglass, spreading a widening stain of expensive pinot noir over the white tablecloth in his haste to leap to his feet, didn’t seem to notice Rafe’s audacious gesture. Or Nicki’s response. The Senator’s aide stationed in the hallway almost ran Nicki over, rushing through the doorway looking for someone to respond to the hapless Senator’s faux pas. Clearly neither the Senator nor his aide was accustomed to the Senator losing his cool—over a woman no less.

  It was no wonder the Senator was undone, Rafe thought, as he gazed at her. Hard to blame the clueless pol. Like Rafe, the Senator had access to an endless supply of gorgeous women. But Nicki was in a class by herself. As he’d suggested, when he invited her to dinner, she’d chosen the proverbial little black dress. But the trusty staple took on new meaning shimmering over Nicki’s luscious frame. Strapless and ending six inches below her ass, the scant sheathe of silky material was an engineering masterpiece.

  A few short yards of fabric showcased a body that defied physics. A twisted knot between her breasts strained to keep the lush mounds from overflowing. It raised the specter of what would happen if one chose to untie that knot. Nestled in the crevice between her breasts was her Boomslang necklace. Rafe grinned imagining how many men had envied that jewel encrusted serpent.

  The stretchy material hugged her slim waist before it flared over her curvy hips and a heart shaped ass that would test a monk’s vows. It didn’t help that the iridescent fabric trapped the light in a way that if one looked closely—and who the hell wouldn’t—the crack between those toned cheeks was visible.

  Her five inch high-heeled Manolo Blahnik stiletto sandals were a shoe fetishist’s wet dream. They gave new meaning to “fuck me shoes.” A slit up the front of her dress revealed sheer black stockings encasing her endless legs. While the lack of a panty line could signal that she was wearing pantyhose, Rafe’s educated guess was that a string thong and thigh-high lace topped stockings were a better bet. A glimpse of pale white flesh above the slit in her dress when she turned toward him confirmed his experienced guess and made him wish he’d brought his napkin with him.

  As stunning as it was, the show stopper was not her body. This night, as oftentimes with Nicki, it was her hair. A cloud of wild red curls was piled on top of her head, held in place by a single white orchid. But the elegant flower wasn’t 100% up to the task, as sexy tendrils of gold tinged curls hovered around her cheeks and neck. Rafe knew the first thing he would do were he foolish enough to touch her, would be to pluck out that lucky flower and toss it to the floor, letting that cloud of heavenly smelling fire hang loose.

  He shook his head marveling at her sensuous instincts. Was it experience that had her choose to constrain her wild curls? Or were those unmistakable flashes of innocence the cause? (He’d seen them too often to ignore.) As much as her wildness intrigued him, the thing that brought his dick to full staff without question was the shy wonder he saw in her eyes when she saw him. Or the flush on her cheeks when he touched her. Or that whispery gasp he’d heard when he buzzed her cheek. Oh yeah, combine spirited sassiness with untried innocence and he was a goner. Just one more reason: Nicki Powers was off limits. Rafe’s lips curled and his eyes twinkled as he led her over to meet the Senator.

  Nicki clung to Rafe’s hand to keep her balance afraid she might stumble if she let go. It wasn’t her outrageous high heels that threatened her composure, it was him. She was stunned when he strode toward her. He studied her like a panther on the prowl sizing up a potential meal. There was nothing hurried in his movements, nothing overtly sexual in his actions. Rather his eyes raked over her as though he was surveying an object he considered taking. Inherent in his sexy grin, the twinkle in his eyes, the ease with which he approached, was his overarching confidence. Confident that he could fluster her with a glance, take her breath away with a harmless socially acceptable kiss. Or make her legs shake when he pulled her close enough to breathe in his refined scent overlaid with the intoxicating smell of a strong man.

  And then there were his clothes. Rafe’s casually elegant dress made the U.S. Senator’s several thousand dollar suit look stuffy, pretentious. Because she was an admitted clothes horse, Nicki knew that Rafe’s black silk long sleeved collarless shirt, relaxed jacket and fitted dress pants likely cost as much as the Senator’s more predictable garb. And who but Rafe would sport a beard shadow and wear his hair stylishly long and tousled, more fitting of a GQ model than a hardened warrior. She thought she’d managed to regain her composure when he leaned over and whispered, “You look good enough to eat, Princess.”

  His overt taunt galvanized her. She freed her hand from his and ran her eyes up and down his body. With a saucy glance over her shoulder, she murmured, “Sure you are up to it, Warrior Man?”

  Rafe grinned at her and winked.

  “Not a chance, Princess. You’re safe. I know when I’m out of my league.”

  Nicki was surprised at the flash of disappointment she felt at his quick disavowal of interest, but didn’t have time to lick her wound, because Rafe had turned to introduce her to the Senator, still busily mopping up his wine.

  Rafe smiled at him through hooded eyes. He’d known Senator Robert Chambers for years—particularly his duplicitous behind-the-scenes dealings. Chambers presented himself as a thoughtful avowed liberal whose primary concern was the poor and unfortunate—easier to do when you’d bought your Senate seat with monies some long-dead ancestors had made. And when you hadn’t known a moment of want in a life filled with excess. Rafe thought with a sneer, ‘limousi
ne liberal’ had found its poster boy.

  Knowing the Senator’s reputation with women—the more the better, preferably at the same time—Rafe knew it wouldn’t be long before he approached Nicki. Not about to let the pretentious prick off easy, he nodded at the spill on the table and said with a pleasant smile, “Not to worry, Senator. Nicki has that effect on men. You’re not the first grown man who’s been reduced to speechlessness by my lovely associate, Nicki Powers. Or the first that’s made a mess in his eagerness to meet her.”

  Turning to Nicki, he said, “Nicki, let me introduce you.” He nodded from one to the other. “Nicki Powers. Senator Robert Chambers.”

  He turned back to Nicki. “Go easy on him, Nicki. He doesn’t have much experience dealing with gorgeous women except for the lovely Mrs. Chambers, of course.”

  The Senator had the decency to blush and then as quickly frowned telegraphing he hadn’t missed Rafe’s jab.

  Nicki threw Rafe a puzzled gaze, surprised by his thinly veiled contempt, then put out her hand.

  “Good evening, Senator Chambers. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Having recovered from his discomfiture, the Senator showered her with an ingratiating smile. He grasped her hand and lightly ran his thumb over her palm.

  “No, Miss Powers, the pleasure is mine. Please forgive my clumsiness. Our host is correct. It is not often that I am confronted by a virtual vision of a young woman. But then I presume you are accustomed to men making fools of themselves over you. Will you forgive my inelegance?”

  Clearly expecting her to demur, the Senator’s frown deepened when Nicki pointedly disengaged from his grip, “Please don’t apologize, Senator. And, yes, sir, your response is not unusual. It’s been known to happen…frequently.”

  Rafe guffawed, signaling again his disdain for the Senator.

  The senator was saved further embarrassment by his aide rushing in with two of Rafe’s servants carrying fresh linens for the table. Rafe motioned to the Senator and Nicki to step back as Tony and Sarah stripped the table and quickly reset it.

  Rafe took command of the situation. He nodded to the Senator silently indicating he should be seated. He smiled down at Nicki then pulled out her chair and stepped back as she sat down. Within minutes, the tension in the room evaporated as Rafe motioned to the servants to begin serving the food and more wine. Soon the layered conversation so typical of meetings of this kind ricocheted around the table.

  The Senator quickly recovered his composure. Rafe watched with grudging admiration as Chambers effortlessly wrapped himself in the cloak of Charming Gentleman. And why not? Charm came easy to men like Chambers. The man had marched a predetermined path that likely began in a sheltered nursery with gold-plated nannies. Moving on to elite boarding schools, Ivy League colleges and law school, he fulfilled his noblesse oblige requisites and spent a year working with the poor. He’d shanghaied a two-term stint in the U.S. House of Representatives, then with more money than even the most ambitious pols knew existed he bought a U.S Senate seat four short years ago. The Senate seat he now planned to parlay into the Presidency. As the ultimate schmoozer turned his klieg lights on Nicki, Rafe was surprised at the virulent antipathy he felt toward the man. Watching him openly lusting over Nicki, Rafe suppressed the urge to growl. What the hell was wrong with him? Christ, nothing like an alpha dog protecting his territory. He quickly reminded himself, it wasn’t his territory he was protecting, it was Yuri’s.

  He didn’t need to worry. Nicki clearly didn’t have trouble identifying pretentious assholes. In answer to a series of probing questions about her childhood, Nicki was curt.

  “As I explained, my mother died when I was born. My father travels a great deal and he wanted me to have as normal a life as possible. Fortunately my aunt and uncle were pleased to have a daughter and I was lucky to have them as surrogate parents. And you might be surprised, Senator Chambers: Just as some of the people who live in Washington DC or New York City are interesting and worth knowing, so are the citizens of Idaho.”

  As though he was sincerely interested in her responses and not counting the minutes until he was fucking her, Senator Chambers raised a protesting hand.

  “Please, my dear, call me Bob. But only if you’ll permit me to call you Nicki.

  At Nicki’s slight nod, he continued.

  “I still find it hard to believe, Nicki, that a girl like you grew up in a small western town. In Idaho of all places. How did you survive? What did you do for excitement?” He gazed pointedly at her breasts and licked his pudgy lips. “Although you strike me as a girl who could make any situation exciting.”

  Nicki’s didn’t hide her distaste. Eyeing him coolly, her lips curled in a tight smile.

  “Well, Bob.” Her emphasis on his name was pronounced. “I guess it all depends on how you define excitement. For me excitement was four hours a day at the shooting range, followed by six hours of daily mixed martial arts practice. Then, of course, there was high altitude survival training and the like.” She added with a saucy grin, “All necessary for a ‘girl like me’ who needed to ward off those pesky cowboys who couldn’t wait to get in my pants.”

  The Senator’s jaw tightened when Rafe winked at Nicki and she responded with a flippant nod. Seeming to understand that they both were making fun of him, Senator Chambers dropped his obsequious manner and asked crisply,

  “I don’t understand. Were you in the military?”

  “No, my father wouldn’t permit me to join the military. I received my training through private sources. My uncle was a small town sheriff. He oversaw my training. I was lucky. Between my uncle and my father, I trained with some of the best fighters in the world.”

  Rafe marveled at Nicki’s easy slicing and dicing bits and pieces of the truth. He’d met her Idaho “uncle” and “aunt”. The background check his team prepared wasn’t necessary. Former KGB was written all over them. Knowing her father as he did, Rafe was certain he knew more about Nicki’s background than she did. Given Yuri’s agonized revelations during late night sessions, and the information he had gathered through his own resources, Rafe was confident Yuri had not shared his tortured past with his innocent young daughter. It was likely he never would.

  ~~~

  After Nicki made it as clear as she could that she was repelled not charmed by the practiced philanderer, the Senator gave up in disgust and turned his attentions to Rafe.

  Nicki was struck as she watched the two powerful men circling one another—how primitive, yet how predictable their actions. Two alpha males sizing each other up, marking their territory, jockeying for position. The Senator’s weapon of choice seemed to be ingratiating smiles and urbane analysis of the topic being discussed. Rafe’s arsenal was his barely disguised disdain for the Senator driven home by an occasional cocky grin.

  When they’d finished their dessert and the servants had cleared the settings, Rafe rose from the table. Motioning to the cozy seating arrangement to the side of the dining area, he said, “Senator, Nicki? Let’s continue our conversation in a more comfortable way. I always enjoy a fire on nights like this. Keeps the wind at bay.”

  The Senator settled in one of the overstuffed armchairs in front the magnificent fieldstone fireplace. Nicki moved to the sofa. Without the protection of the dining room table she was conscious of her short skirt. As surreptitiously as possible, she eased the miniscule fabric over her thighs. She looked up to see Rafe watching her awkward moves. His wicked grin confirmed he was enjoying her discomfort. Tossing her head, she gave him a bright smile then made a point of slowly crossing one leg over the other as if daring him to look up her dress. Rafe’s eyes widened then he gave her a rakish wink acknowledging her audacious move had the intended effect.

  Rafe walked over to the liquor cabinet against the wall. Holding up an ornate bottle labeled “Pionneau 1969”, he smiled. “What’s your poison, Senator? A Camus Cognac or the smoothest scotch you’re likely to taste? Or perhaps you prefer coffee?”

  The
Senator’s smile was almost sincere. “Not coffee, Rafe. Ordinarily I wouldn’t turn down a forty-year-old cognac but a good belt of scotch has more appeal at the moment.”

  Rafe rolled his eyes at the Senator’s clumsy attempt at good old boy bonhomie, as if he didn’t know that the Glenfiddich Scotch was as expensive as the Camus. He should have offered him a Budweiser to see if he’d deign to drink that! Rafe turned to Nicki and cocked a questioning brow.

  “Nicki?”

  “Yes, please. Scotch.”

  Tony moved quietly in the background, lighting the fireplace. In minutes the crackling fire sent a warm pleasant glow throughout the room. As he moved to leave, Tony darkened the lights in the dining area and opened the drapes covering the floor-to-ceiling windows. From her seat across the room, Nicki was awed as she always was by the stark beauty of the Pocono Mountains. For a brief second, a wave of loneliness flashed over her, reminding her how much she missed her father. The two of them had spent many long evenings in front of the fireplace in their own mountain home high above Lucerne nestled in the Swiss Alps. Given that he was a virtual recluse, she rarely saw her father but they spoke almost daily. She glanced up in time to see Rafe studying her; his knowing gaze confirmed he likely knew what she was thinking. She looked down, not wanting to share any more of her soul than this unsettling man had already garnered.

  Rafe set the bottle of Glenfiddich and three glasses on the coffee table. He poured two fingers of the pale amber liquid in each of their glasses, then handed one to Nicki and the other to the Senator. Filling his own glass he raised it to them both. His eyes were dark, shadowed.

  “To the successful resolution of difficult issues.”

  The Senator flushed, then nodded and drained his glass.

  Rafe pushed the humidor of fragrant Cuban cigars in the center of the table toward the Senator, who took one from the embossed container. Nicki watched as Rafe carefully chose a cigar for himself then made a production of lighting it. He clipped the end with a heavy silver cutter, rolled the unlit cigar in his long slim fingers as if treasuring its feel, then delicately sniffed it.