The Spy Wore Red Read Online Free PDF Page A

inside. He’d needed a minute to recover from the most amazing sex he’d ever experienced.
    He’d shut the hot water off and stood under a blast of cold to clear his head, then emerged from the bathroom minutes later determined to start round two. But to his surprise and disappointment, she was gone. Gone but not forgotten.
    With his gift for remembering details, the woman in red had been engraved in his memory for all eternity.
    They continued to stroll the museum now, Bjorn in tailored navy blue pants and a navy Henley sweater, his flaxen hair brushing his shoulders. His look—that of a man who had seen more in his thirty-eight years than most men twice his age. Merrick was dressed in his usual all-black attire. A stark contrast to his silver hair and neatly trimmed steel-gray beard.
    On the way back to the elevator, Bjorn stopped in front of a narrow window. There, overlooking the River Vltava, he silently considered the situation. He could think of a hundred places he’d rather be in January. It was snowing again, and the temperature was a bone-chilling twenty-two degrees. Austria would be no better.
    He hated cold weather. As a kid in Copenhagen, he’d spent too many nights freezing his ass off in dark alleyways. Worse, he hated what those cold nights had forced him to become.
    Still, this chilly trip had proven to be interesting. It really was good to see her again. To see that she was alive and looking so well.
    He had never met a woman who could match his sexual appetite. But that night she had more than done so. She had driven him over the edge, and followed after him without any hesitation or reservations.
    Normally he didn’t care about conversing with the women who fell into his bed. But over the years he had never been able to forget the lady in red and the wild, hot sex they had shared in that shower in Vienna. And often he had wondered what she would have said the next morning if she had stayed to wake up beside him.
    They were in an elevator headed back into the underworld of the Vysehrad when Merrick said, “It’s settled then. We’ll tell Polax you’ve made your choice, and you want the—”
    “Brunette,” Bjorn injected. “My choice is Pasha Lenova. Polax’s rain-or-shine femme.”

Chapter 3
    N adja left the conclave and walked to the end of the hall. She was just rounding the corner when she spied him standing next to a bank of elevators with his back to her. She knew it was him. Knew because there was no way she would ever forget that stance, or that ass—bare or otherwise.
    In his sleek dark pants, he owned the stance. Solid and sure, his fair hair grazing his shoulders.
    He was talking to a man dressed in black. The man was older, and she recognized him—who wouldn’t recognize the all-impressive Adolf Merrick, the legendary Isis from Onyxx?
    Nadja slipped back around the corner and leaned against the wall, her thoughts completely suspended. After the initial shock waned, her brain began to toss out questions. The first being, what the hell was he doing here with Adolf Merrick? The second, did he know she was an agent here at Quest?
    The memory of that night in Vienna and of him washed over her. He’d been amazingly resourceful. On the run together, he’d proven to be a quick thinker, and an even quicker man of action. And at the inn…
    Nadja unconsciously licked her lips as her stomach did a flip. She was recalling him in the shower. The size of him and his performance, how she’d reacted to him.
    She was suddenly short of breath, and her stomach was alive with butterflies. She hadn’t had that feeling since…him. Understandable, she reasoned. The man was not only gifted in that area, but he knew how to use what he’d been blessed with. As a result he’d become a professional player. It was the only explanation she had for how she’d responded to him. He could kiss like the devil. And the way he used his hands and fingers…
    No man had ever touched her like that—touched