Page 43 of Shadowed Agenda
“Yeah, except the ammo is real, and there are no stunt doubles.” Pavlo grinned as he placed the butterfly strip on her neck and looked down at her. “You’ll need to wear high-necked tops if you don’t want anyone to spot the butterfly.”
Regan heaved a sigh. “Another trip to the expensive boutique in the lobby. The skirt and blouse didn’t last a day. The dress I brought for the red carpet movie premier this evening has a scoop neck. This book tour is costing me a fortune.” She glanced down at the bloodstains across the front of her blouse before tilting her head to look at him.
Pavlo’s brown eyes darkened, and they stared at each other for a long moment, Regan’s pulse pounding out every second.
“The skirt was worth every penny,” Pavlo said, his voice low and husky. His eyes traveled to her breasts outlined beneath the fitted blouse. “So was the blouse.”
He bent and brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead. Regan’s heart jolted at the whisper-light touch of his lips.
Pavlo kissed her temple before removing the clip holding her hastily redone bun. Her hair tumbled down her back. He intertwined the fingers of one hand through the strands and tilted her head to the side.
Regan’s body vibrated with emotions she’d boxed up long ago as Pavlo ran a line of gentle kisses along her neck.
He searched her eyes once more. Regan’s resolve to keep Pavlo at a distance melted, and she could no longer deny something deeper lay beneath their casual banter.
His eyes moved to her lips. His mouth covered hers. The slow and thoughtful kiss sent shivers of desire racing through her. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and she responded, parting them. His tongue swept inside her mouth, and the kiss deepened. He groaned and placed his hands on her hips, lifting her skirt and sliding her closer, pressing his hardness against her.
“Regan?” Pavlo murmured, his lips caressing hers. It was more a statement of desire than a question, letting her know he wanted her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer in response.
Pavlo deftly unbuttoned her ruined blouse and slid a hand under her silky bra. Regan sucked in her breath as he ran a calloused finger over a nipple. She shivered as she felt it harden.
“Convenient,” he chuckled softly. He opened the clasp at the front of the bra and eased the silky cups aside. He bent, and his tongue caressed the hardened nipple.
Regan moaned as he sucked the nipple into his mouth, lost in ecstasy.
She wound her arms inside his jacket and around his back. She tugged at his shirt, freeing it, and slipped her hands under the smooth cotton.
Pavlo groaned as Regan ran her hands along the corded muscles of his back. She’d seen the muscles strain under his t-shirt in Central Park, but looking was never as good as touching.
A couple of buttons popped off Pavlo’s shirt as she moved her hands to his chest. He undid the rest and stood in front of her. A wave of heat rolled through Regan.
Pavlo slid his hands along her thighs, then pulled her to the counter’s edge. He yanked Regan’s skirt higher and knelt on the tile floor before her.
He ran both his hands up her calves and then froze.
Regan had heard the sharp rap on the suite’s door, too.
Another followed it.
They stared at each other like kids getting caught with their fingers in the cookie jar.
“We could just ignore it,” Regan suggested.
“If it’s Drake, he’ll just let himself in,” Pavlo said.
Notwhat Regan wanted to hear. It was definitely a mood buster.
Pavlo plucked her blouse off the floor and handed it to her. He quickly adjusted his pants as Regan put on her blouse.
“I’m one of those people who don’t like to leave things unfinished,” Pavlo said as he left the bathroom to see who was at the door.
Regan shook her head and followed. She couldn’t decide if it was the sexiest or most arrogant line she’d heard. Pavlo Barislov was a complete mystery to her.
Her ruminating was interrupted as Pavlo opened the door.
“Hector, come in,” Pavlo said, shaking the man’s hand.