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Zori pulled on a black fur coat that came to the back of her knees before she cracked open the door to her bedroom. It was almost 11 p.m. when the building’s security teams changed over, and the daily cleaners left. If she timed it right, she could blend in with the group of people leaving.
It wasn't like the cleaning staff knew what she looked like, and if anyone asked, she would say that she had been working in the labs or offices on another floor. No one would ask. No one ever did because Maxim's staff was so big, there was always a new face.
The new security guard she had encountered that day certainly hadn’t known who she was when she flirted with him and stole his key card off his belt.
Amateur, she thought and grinned. Really, someone should have warned him.
Zori had learned if she wore a tight enough top, she could pick most men’s pockets.
Zori took a deep, calming breath, slipped out of her bedroom, swiped the card on the fire escape door at the end of the hall, and stepped inside. It was freezing cold, so she pulled on her leather gloves and hurried as fast as her boots would take her.
She'd learned from Maxim's other buildings that he never installed cameras on the fire escape stairs. Why? She couldn't guess other than he didn't want to pay for them. He might have been a scientist, but dear Uncle Maxim was also a businessman and didn't waste money on things he didn't need.
Zori's legs were jelly by the time she got to the ground level of the building and into the staff room where men and women were pulling on heavy coats and gloves.
Zori pulled the hood of her coat down further before joining the back of a group of women talking loudly about one of their daughter's new babies and how fat and sweet she was.
Zori's heart pounded as they moved through the underground parking lot and out of the staff door. No one stopped her or called her name as she followed the women down the street in calm steps. They rounded a corner, and she was free.
Zori tried not to do a victory dance, but there was a definite skip in her step as she followed the map on her phone.Almost there, deep breaths.
Zori heard the club before she spotted the door to it. Two bouncers stood on either side of it, smoking cigarettes. It was still early, so there wasn’t a line yet. They both looked her over, and she threw them a flirty smile as they opened the door.
"Have fun, baby," one of them said.
Zori winked at him. "I always do."
The music was loud, and the club was dark, just the way she liked it. Zori left her heavy fur coat with the coat check and let the heady beats draw her down the hallways. There was a bar on either side of the dance floor and shadowy alcoves everywhere. The decor was black and silver with candles melting on tables and along the bar. It was full of people but not so packed that she would have to wait forever for a drink. It wasperfect.
Zori let out a happy cry and allowed the pull of the dance floor to take her away.
2
Zori stamped her feet, trying to push out all her frustrations into the movement. The music was loud enough that when the cry of anguish and helplessness broke free from her, it blurred into all the other sounds.
This was what Zori had needed for months—the physical release of not feeling like the patient, the dead girl in waiting, the burden child of a man who wasn't interested in being a parent but had taken on the task anyway.
She was still panting heavily when a tingle spread down her spine and a hand closed on her hip.
“Are you okay?” a deep voice asked in Russian by her ear. “You look like you were getting crushed in this crowd.”
“I’m fine,” she replied in English. She swore and repeated herself in Russian. She turned slowly, still moving with the beat, and let out a startled squeak. “Damn, you're tall."
The man's face was sharp in the flickering lights. Straight black hair fell to his shoulders, and blue gray eyes shone in amusement. He wasexactlywhat she needed, thank all the saints.
"Thank you. Are you sure you are okay?" He was frowning in concern, and she really couldn't figure out why.
Zori took the chance. "I could use a drink. Can I buy you one…"
"Vladik," he replied, his bulk already parting the crowd to lead her off the dance floor. "And I'll have a vodka."
"Of course," she said, lips twitching into a grin. "I'm Zori."
She headed for the closest bar. With a light touch of his fingers on her back, Vladik made sure he didn't lose her in the throng.
Zori's heart fluttered with adrenaline every time he grazed her bare skin. It had been over a year since her last one-night stand in New York, and the physical contact was jarring her in all the best ways.
Zori squeezed her way in at the end of the bar and gave the guy behind it a little wave.
