The Russian's Dangerous Game
night,” he demanded.
    Brianna blinked and looked straight ahead at the enormous chest in front of her, feeling vulnerable with his directness. She wasn’t used to people asking such blatant questions. In her world, people moved around the issue, prodded it, looked at it curiously but they never just blurted out their direct questions as if the issue was as easy as answering if it were night or day. Well, except for Nikki and Rachel. Those two stepped in where others feared to go, asking, demanding, cajoling.
    She tried to be casual, tried to pretend like it had been just a fun night. “We had sex,” she said, choking on the last word. “It was very nice but we can’t let it happen again.”
    He smiled slightly, still holding her close. “ Oh, it’s definitely going to happen again,” he promised. “The question is, when will you be brave enough to allow yourself the pleasure?”
    She tried to breathe, but her eyes looked up, stopped when she saw the intense, burning heat in his eyes. And the absolute conviction of his words. She swallowed, trying to figure out what to say. “I…”
    “No, don’t say anything,” he told her. “I won’t believe them and it will simply draw my eyes to those lovely lips of yours.”
    He released her with those words and moved over to a beautiful chess table surrounded by two large, comfortable wingback chairs set by the window. It was a lovely view where they could play chess and still watch the snow fall outside. Brianna fought the idea that this was an enchanting scene and took the offered seat, wondering how she was going to fight her attraction to the man. She would have thought it was banished from her mind, knowing what she knew about this man now. But there was still something about him that drew her, lured her closer. She didn’t like that about herself. She wanted to be oblivious to his masculinity.
    “You may have the first move,” he said kindly, leaning back against the chair, watching her carefully but with an odd look in his eyes.
    Brianna moved closer, surveying the board and trying to anticipate his strategy. But since nothing on the board had moved, she shifted her pawn forward two steps.
    “Brave move,” he teased.
    She rolled her eyes, not interested in having him mock her. She might not be able to take on a chess expert, but she could hold her own in a game of chess.
    “Just make your move and forget all the witty repartee, ” she told him firmly.
    “Don’t like being distracted?” he asked her, pushing his own piece into position.
    “I don’t like someone thinking I’m an idiot, which is exactly what you are doing.” She moved another pawn, forming her line.
    “On the contrary,” he countered, moving his bishop. “I think you’re supremely competent.”
    “Now you’re just setting me up, thinking I’m not an adequate player.”
    For the next hour, they shifted their pieces, taunting each other with superbly executed strategy. By the end of the game, she was actually laughing at his verbal taunts even while he put her in checkmate.
    “Okay, I concede defeat,” she said as she leaned back in the chair, smothering another chuckle. “Where did you learn to play so well?” she asked, thinking back to her lessons at the community center. It was the one place where she’d felt safe. She , Rachel and Nikki would spend hours there, hiding from the people on the street who were out to hurt any pedestrians in order to increase their credibility with the others. It was all a matter of survival. Whoever was the toughest on the street was able to walk down the sidewalks with relative ease.
    Rocco leaned back in his chair, admiring her skill and beauty. “A kid down the street from me used to challenge me all the time. He beat me once and wanted to play again and again. Unfortunately for him, he never beat me afterwards although he tried many times.”
    “Who taught you?” she asked, thinking of all the books she’d read on strategy.
    “I

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