Page 4

TARAJI

T he rumors start immediately. Taraji hears whispers as she passes groups of coworkers. Her name mixes with Jerome's and Mary-Anne's in hushed conversations that stop when she approaches.

Nikolai notices too. She catches him watching from his office as a group of admin staff fall silent when she walks by.

"Susan." His commanding voice rings out across the office. "My office. Now."

The head of the gossiping group pales visibly. Taraji keeps her head high as she walks to her desk.

Ten minutes later, Susan emerges from Nikolai's office looking shaken. The whispers stop completely after that.

Keisha texts Taraji at lunchtime.

…

Throughout the week, Nikolai creates a protective bubble around Taraji. He assigns them to work together on a major campaign. He moves Jerome to a different floor. He sends Mary-Anne to a client visit for the day.

His actions speak volumes. The office notices.

"Mr. Volkov wants to see the preliminary sketches for the Smithson account." His PA informs Taraji on Thursday afternoon.

She gathers her materials and heads to his office. Nikolai sits behind his desk reviewing documents.

"You wanted to see the Smithson sketches?" She places the folder on his desk.

"Yes." He sets aside his papers. "Close the door."

Taraji hesitates then complies. The click of the door sounds final.

"How are you holding up?" His tone softens.

"I'm fine." She sits across from him.

"The gossip has stopped." He notes.

"I noticed." She meets his gaze. "Thank you for that."

He shrugs. "I protect what's mine."

The possessive statement hangs between them.

"I'm not yours." She clarifies.

"Not yet." His confidence should irritate her. It doesn't.

He opens the folder and reviews her work. His focus shifts completely to the task. Taraji watches his strong hands move papers around.

"These are excellent." He nods approvingly. "But this one needs work."

She leans forward to see which sketch he indicates. Their hands brush. Electricity shoots up her arm. Nikolai notices her reaction and smiles slightly.

"The composition is off." He moves closer to her. "See how the eye doesn't flow naturally?"

His arm presses against hers. His scent surrounds her. Clean. Masculine. Intoxicating.

"I see it." Her voice comes out huskier than intended.

"Fix it." He doesn't move away. "I want these perfect."

"Of course." She tries to focus on the sketches.

"Are you busy tonight?" His question catches her off guard.

"No." She answers honestly.

"Good." He nods decisively. "We need to finalize this campaign. Stay late."

It sounds like a request. It feels like an order. Taraji finds herself nodding.

"I'll order dinner." He adds.

"You don't need to do that."

"I want to." His tone brooks no argument.

…

The workday ends. The office empties. Taraji and Nikolai remain in the conference room reviewing campaign materials.

"You seem tense." He observes me like I’m a book that he can read.

"Long day." She rolls her shoulders.

"Come here." He pushes his chair back from the table.

"Why?" She eyes him suspiciously.

"Trust me." He gestures to the space in front of him.

Cautiously, she stands and approaches. He turns her around gently and places his large hands on her shoulders. His fingers dig into her tense muscles .

"Oh god." The words escape her lips before she can stop them.

"You carry all your stress here." His thumbs work a particularly tight knot.

Taraji's eyes close. His strong hands move expertly across her shoulders and upper back. The line between professional and personal blurs further.

"Better?" His voice sounds close to her ear.

"Yes." She barely recognizes her own voice.

His hands slow but don't stop. "Food should be here soon."

She nods, unable to form words. His touch feels too good. Too right.

The intercom buzzes. Nikolai releases her reluctantly.

"That's dinner." He steps away.

While he retrieves the food, Taraji tries to compose herself. Her body hums with awareness. She shouldn't want her boss. She does anyway.

Nikolai returns with bags of Thai food. "I remembered you mentioned liking green curry."

The fact that he remembered such a small detail touches her.

They eat in silence. Tension rising with each bite.

"What happened with Jerome?" He asks after a comfortable silence.

Taraji tenses. "What do you mean?"

"How did you end up with someone so beneath you?"

She considers the question. "He pursued me relentlessly."

"And that worked?" Nikolai raises an eyebrow.

"I wasn't used to attention." She admits. "Especially from someone who looked like him."

Nikolai's expression darkens. "He never deserved you."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true." He leans forward. "You need someone who sees your value."

Their eyes lock. The air between them charges with tension.

"Someone like you?" She challenges .

"Yes." His honesty disarms her. They finish their work and Nikolai insists on walking her home.

"It's late." He states simply.

The night air feels cool against Taraji's heated skin. They walk close together. Their hands brush occasionally. Each contact sends sparks through her body.

"This is me." She stops outside her apartment building.

Nikolai looks up at the facade. "Nice building."

"Thanks." She fidgets with her keys. "Thank you for dinner. And the walk."

"My pleasure." He steps closer.

The street lamp casts shadows across his face. His height makes her feel small. Protected.

"Taraji." Her name sounds like a prayer on his lips.

"Yes?" She looks up at him.

His hand reaches up to touch her face. His thumb traces her bottom lip. Her breath catches.

"I want to kiss you." His honesty floors her.

"We shouldn't." She whispers.

"Why not?"

"You're my boss." Her protest sounds weak even to her own ears.

"I'm a man who wants you." His eyes darken. "Who has always wanted you."

He leans down slowly. Giving her time to pull away. She doesn't.

Their faces inch closer. She feels his breath against her lips. Her eyes start to close.

Her phone rings loudly. The spell breaks. Taraji steps back and checks the screen.

"It's Keisha." She says apologetically.

Nikolai straightens. "You should answer."

The moment slips away. Taraji feels both relieved and disappointed.

"Goodnight, Taraji." He steps back. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight." She watches him walk away .

Inside her apartment, she answers Keisha's call.

"Girl! Where have you been?" Keisha sounds worried.

"Working late with Nikolai." Taraji sinks onto her couch.

"Working or 'working'?" The innuendo is clear.

"Actually working." Taraji pauses. "But he almost kissed me."

Keisha squeals. "And?"

"And you called." Taraji laughs despite herself.

"Shit! Bad timing."

"Or good timing." Taraji isn't sure which.

After hanging up, she touches her lips where Nikolai's thumb had been. The memory makes her body warm. She wants him. The realization terrifies and excites her.