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guest room down the hall. Pick up those pillows and stack them neatly on that bench on your way out."
    Gathering the fluffy, girly pillows in his arms, he carted them to the upholstered bench she had indicated. He carefully lined up the pillows as she had asked but didn't leave her bedroom. "There's no way I can fold myself into that daybed."
    The irked expression on her face softened. With a sigh, she reached for one of the normal-sized pillows tucked inside ruby-red silk. "I'll go. You stay here."
    "Is that really what you want?"
    She gulped and hugged the pillow tighter. "Yes."
    "You are a terrible liar, Bianca."
    "I haven't had much practice."
    Holding the pillow like a shield, she skirted the edge of the bed and headed for the door. In three quick, long strides, Sergei intercepted and blocked her. She gazed up at him, a mix of apprehension and the faintest flash of excitement brightening her dark eyes. He gripped the pillow and tugged it from her hands.
    She licked her lips, betraying her nervousness. "What are you doing, Sergei?"
    "No more, Bianca." He tossed the pillow onto the bed behind her. "We're done playing this game."
    "What game?"
    "The one you've perfected." He stepped closer, and her smaller hands flew to his chest. He could have easily overpowered her, but he immediately halted his forward motion. "Bianca, I would never use my size or strength against you."
    "Sergei…"
    "No." He placed a gentle finger to her mouth, silencing her rejection. "One kiss, Bianca. You let me kiss you properly one time. If you don't feel anything—if you really don't want me—I'll go downstairs and sleep on the couch. After I fix your door in the morning, I'll never bother you again."
    Her perfect white teeth dug into her lower lip. Finally, she nodded. "Okay. One kiss."
    Grinning triumphantly, he slid his hand along the nape of her neck and dragged her against him. He was determined to make this a kiss they would never forget. If he only had one chance, he was going to make it count!

Chapter Three
    What the hell are you doing?
    I silently chastised myself while warily watching Sergei. Towering over me, he seemed so much more dangerous—and delicious.
    "Come here. I'm too tall to do this comfortably while standing. It will be better if I'm sitting." He grasped my hand and tugged me back toward the low, wide club chair and ottoman in the corner of my bedroom. Sinking down onto the soft, worn leather, Sergei pulled me between his knees. The towel wrapped around his waist had climbed up rather scandalously, but I didn't dare let my gaze linger on his lap.
    When his huge hands glided along my thighs and cupped my hips, I swallowed hard. "What are you doing?"
    "What does it feel like I'm doing?" Sergei nuzzled my neck, his hot breath wafting across my skin.
    "Everything but kissing me." Delightful shivers coursed through me, rushing through my belly and into my chest.
    "I'm getting there," he promised.
    I had the distinct feeling I had been hoodwinked by agreeing to let him have one kiss. Something told me that I would soon be agreeing to much more with him.
    His hands slipped under my robe and the short nightgown underneath. He had the roughest palms I'd ever felt. After dating only professional types, it was something of a novelty to have such incredibly manly hands gliding over my curves. He whispered something in Russian that I didn't understand. As if remembering we didn't share that common language, he repeated, "You're so damn soft, Bianca."
    I gasped when he grabbed my bottom in his big hands and gave it an appreciative squeeze. A short laugh escaped his throat as he ran his palms over my panties. Bending low his dark head, Sergei gripped the loosely tied belt of my robe between his teeth and gave it a tug. The sides of my dressing gown fell open, and he let the belt fall from his mouth. Dragging his lips side to side along my collarbone, he whispered, "Take off the robe."
    "I really shouldn't."
    He smiled at my quavering