Red Midnight

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Authors: Heather Graham
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that their expertise could not be reproduced.
    When they left the cathedral, Tanya pointed out the common grave in the Kremlin wall of the revolutionaries killed in 1917. Then they were just in time to see a changing of the guard at Lenin’s tomb. The ramrod-stiff goose steps of the crisply uniformed military guard sent shivers racing along Erin’s spine.
    “You look a little horrified,” Tanya murmured.
    “No,” Erin protested. “I heard it was an awesome sight—in fact, I promised the agent who brought me to the hotel that I would be sure to come at midnight.”
    Tanya smiled. “You must try to understand, Erin, that we have bred backbone to survive. Many of our leaders have been ruthless men; they have taken the path of heartless purges and rigid isolationism. But we have been burned out and massacred many times. Twenty million Soviet citizens lost their lives in World War Two. I admit, we are a people who often put bullets before bread.” She shrugged eloquently. “We have far to go; perhaps that may soon change.”
    So awed had Erin been by the guards, then so touched by Tanya’s speech, that she screamed as a hand descended upon her shoulder.
    “I am so sorry, Miss McCabe, I have startled you. It is Miss McCabe, is it not?”
    The accented query came from a tall man of about fifty, handsome in a tall and austere way, clad in a heavy wool coat and a fur pillbox hat. At Erin’s stunned nod his lined faced creased further into a smile. “Forgive me. I knew you were in the country and I was most eager to make your acquaintance.”
    Tanya took that moment to intercede, her voice a bit awed. “Miss Erin McCabe, you will please meet Mr. Sergei Alexandrovich.”
    Still bewildered, Erin extended a hand. “Mr. Alexandrovich, how do you do?”
    If she had been bewildered, total confusion was to follow. The Russian had barely replied before Erin felt another hand descend upon her shoulder. The vital and masculine scent she had come to know so well told her “do sveedah nyah” had come sooner than she expected from the man who had the uncanny ability to appear in the most absurd places at the most absurd time.
    “Erin! How is the sightseeing going? And how on earth did you happen to run into Sergei already?”
    Erin turned and discovered Jarod staring at her with crystal eyes alight with good humor. He touched her as if she were a long lost and valued friend.
    “Hello, Tanya,” he murmured to her guide. Then he addressed himself to the Russian man. “I’ll be damned, Sergei, you do have a knack for routing out your more beautiful visitors.”
    Erin’s eyes darted to the Russian. He was affably grinning as he replied to Jarod. “Ah, but I didn’t seek out Miss McCabe simply because she is beautiful, my friend. I came to find her because I heard news from the border today that you were entering the country with a fiancée and I simply had to resolve the curiosity that was plaguing me!”
    “Oh, no!” Erin murmured, horrified by the turn of events. Surely Mr. Aloof and Contemptuous Steele was going to be furious that his ruse to help her out had put him in such an embarrassing position with a man who was obviously more than an acquaintance. “But Mr. Alexandrovich—” she began, determined to set the record, straight.
    The fingers curling into her shoulder tightened, almost causing her to gasp as Jarod interrupted her. “My Lord, Sergei, I have to hand it to you. You have one hell of a grapevine.”
    “Ah, yes,” Sergei replied, still smiling pleasantly and observing well all that he saw. “But then you did come in with a very rare beauty, and you, my friend, are most certainly one of our favorite Americans.”
    “Flattery, Sergei,” Jarod laughed. How could he appear so pleasant when he was practically breaking her collarbone? Erin wondered. She was thoroughly stunned when he continued with, “Well, Sergei, you wished to meet my fiancée. You have done so. What do you think?”
    The Russian’s

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