Chapter Seven
Dimitri glared at the small figure that was curled up in the chair by the fire in his study. For the last hour, they had been drilling her to find out who she was, who had sent her and how the hell she had gotten into their home undetected. Well, they had been drilling her for the last forty-five minutes. The first five minutes he and Sergei had spent trying to comprehend that their intruder wasn’t a male, but a slip of a woman who was setting off fireworks inside their bodies.
“Snow works better,” she mumbled under her breath.
“What?” Dimitri bit out.
Dark brown eyes glared up at him. “I said snow works better… for your nose,” she snapped back. “Why don’t you go bury your head in a snow bank while you’re at it to cool your temper? Did anyone ever tell you that you have a
