Tatiana looked serious. `That is curious,’ she said. `There is not much fun and gaiety in Russia. No one speaks of these things. I have never been told that before.’
Gaiety? she thought, after the last two months? How could she be looking gay? And yet, yes, there was a lightness in her heart. Was she a loose woman by nature? Or was it something to do with this man she had never seen before? Relief about him after the agony of thinking about what she had to do? It was certainly much easier than she had expected. He made it easy–made it fun, with a spice of danger. He was terribly handsome. And he looked very clean. Would he forgive her when they got to London and she told him? Told him that she had been sent to seduce him? Even the night on which she must do it and the number of the room? Surely he wouldn’t mind very much. It was doing him no harm. It was only a way for her to get to England and make those reports. `Gaiety and fun in her eyes.’ Well, why not? It was possible. There was a wonderful sense of freedom being alone with a man like this and knowing that she would not be punished for it. It was really terribly exciting.
`You are very handsome,’ she said. She searched for a comparison that would give him pleasure. `You are like an American film star.’
She was startled by his reaction. `For God’s sake! That’s the worst insult you can pay a man!’
She hurried to make good her mistake. How curious that the compliment didn’t please him. Didn’t everyone in the West want to look like a film star? `I was lying,’ she said. `I wanted to give you pleasure. In fact you are like my favourite hero. He’s in a book by a Russian called Lermontov. I will tell you about him one day.’
One day ? Bond thought it was time to get down to business.
`Now listen, Tania.’ He tried not to look at the beautiful face on the pillow. He fixed his eyes on the point of her chin. `We’ve got to stop fooling and be serious. What is all this about? Are you really going to come back to England with me?’ He raised his eyes to hers. It was fatal. She had opened them wide again in that damnable guilelessness.
`But of course!’
`Oh!’ Bond was taken aback by the directness of her answer. He looked at her suspiciously. `You’re sure?’
`Yes.’ Her eyes were truthful now. She had stopped flirting.
`You’re not afraid?’
He saw a shadow cross her eyes. But it was not what he thought. She had remembered that she had a part to play. She was to be frightened of what she was doing. Terrified. It had sounded so easy, this acting, but now it was difficult. How odd! She decided to compromise.
`Yes. I am afraid. But not so much now. You will protect me. I thought you would.’
`Well, yes, of course I will.’ Bond thought of her relatives in Russia. He quickly put the thought out of his mind. What was he doing? Trying to dissuade her from coming? He closed his mind to the consequences he imagined for her. `There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll look after you.’ And now for the question he had been shirking. He felt a ridiculous embarrassment. This girl wasn’t in the least what he had expected. It was spoiling everything to ask the question. It had to be done.
`What about the machine?’
Yes. It was as if he had cuffed her across the face. Pain showed in her eyes, and the edge of tears.
She pulled the sheet over her mouth and spoke from behind it. Her eyes above the sheet were cold.
`So that’s what you want.’
`Now listen.’ Bond put nonchalance in his voice. `This machine’s got nothing to do with you and me. But my people in London want it.’ He remembered security. He added blandly. `It’s not all that important. They know all about the machine and they think it’s a wonderful Russian invention. They just want one to copy. Like your people copy foreign cameras and things.’ God, how lame it sounded!