Page 7

Soft .

That was the first word that came to mind when I tried to describe the beauty of the woman gripping my wrist like a vise. She was soft, angelic, in a heavenly way, and appeared decades younger than me.

Still , she amused me.

The lights caught the hazel-green in her eyes as they stayed fixed on me, making them appear brighter until they were a shade of jade. Behind her, chestnut-brown hair flowed below her shoulders in lush waves, and the tips hovered over the thick curve of her ass.

I allowed my gaze to wander to the swell of her hips hidden beneath the short leather skirt, and I kept my breath steady while hers was all over the place.

She blinked, as if coming to her senses, let go of my wrist, and put some distance between my chest and her face.

Her full, shiny lips opened and closed like a fish on dry land.

It was almost funny watching her futile attempts to produce sound, and when nothing came, she walked past me, moving further down the hallway.

Strangely, her immediate absence stung, and every sound of her heels clicking away nudged me to turn around. I watched as her hips swayed and her hair bounced as she moved briskly.

I slid a hand into my pocket. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

She stopped and took an eternity before looking over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

I couldn’t see her face, but the sound of her voice was even softer as it echoed off the walls. I ambled closer, keeping my pace calculated and smooth in order not to scare her. “Thank you? Or you mean your name is Gracia?”

“No, no.” She shook her head, swirling around to face me. Under the light, I spotted the faint red hue that dusted her cheeks. “I meant, thank you for saving me the embarrassment of falling to the ground.”

“That was the proper thing to do. If your name isn’t Gracia, what is it, then?”

Nervously rubbing her legs together, she blushed harder, offering a shy smile. “Elena.”

“Hmm.” I tested the letters on my tongue before letting them roll off. “ Elena. ”

It was the second time I’d heard the name today.

The red on her cheeks couldn’t have gotten any darker, and she appeared younger. “And you? What’s your name?”

“Damien.”

She nodded and looked away briefly. “Are you from around here, Damien?”

Her question was unexpected, and it fanned my curiosity to know where she was heading with it. Slowly, I crooked my head to the side, shrugging. “What do you think?”

“I mean,” she gestured toward me and allowed her hands to fall to her sides, “there you are, standing in the middle of a passage, talking to me with a commanding air of superiority like you own the place. Oh, and there’s an accent I can’t quite place.

So, I would think, with that foreign audacity, no, you are not from around here. ”

Interesting. In addition to her striking physical features, she was also a smart individual.

I quirked an eyebrow, feeling my lips curve to the side. “And I have the feeling that’s not all you’d like to say.”

She exhaled an airy laugh, shaking her head. “No, it’s not. You’re sure you want me to keep talking, in the middle of the passage ?”

“By all means, go ahead.” At the very least, her voice wasn’t irritating or grating on my nerves. Quite the contrary, the effect was calming. “I can assure you, no one would dare interrupt.”

“There it is again, that confidence. It’s…

astounding, but somehow not out of place.

” She didn’t realize it, but she continued rambling.

“One look at your hard, composed exterior and your rumpled shirt and rolled-up sleeves, and anyone would see a tired businessman in need of relaxation and a good time. But then, there are those.”

She pointed to my hands.

Intrigued, I look at them and back at her. “You have something against tattoos?”

“Tattoos and rough hands. And no, I don’t have a thing against ink on skin. It’s just…your hands, and those symbols. I want to believe that there are backstories that haven’t seen the light of day. Stories that go beyond the walls and boundaries of white-collar jobs and city-view offices.”

I couldn’t help it; I laughed, and it made her smile brighten. “You’re one of those people that does the psychology shit?”

“Psychology shit? You mean therapists? That’s a bit presumptuous.

” She rolled her eyes. “No, but I’m a marketing executive at Luxe Nest. We, uh, provide the best luxuries for home owners.

Sorry, I’m diverting. What I meant to say was, my job description comes with reading the room, observing the market, and paying attention to detail. ”

“It’s impressive.”

“Thank you,” she chirped, seemingly pleased by the compliment. “What about you? What’s your eight-to-five day job diversion?”

“Does your job description come with a lot of questions being hurled at strangers?” She tucked her hair behind her ears, and I sensed an apology forthcoming, but I cut in before she had the chance. “You seem to make a lot of observations, so I’ll let you tell me what you think.”

She cleared her throat. “Mm. If you aren’t a full-time businessman, my first thought would be a stockbroker? Real estate? Or definitely something in the corporate sector: investments, finance, or—no, wait, wait. What’s this new currency thing— Crypto? Forex trading?”

I allowed my amusement to linger long enough. “Those are a lot of options, but I’ll tell you one thing for sure: It’s not FX trading or crypto. Most of the time, I prefer dealing with traceable money. Does that help your imagination?”

“Not really. Can I…can I ask another question?”

I urged her with a shrug.

“Um….” Her voice seemed softer and wavering. “Why are you standing so far away?”

My body went rigid, and my eyes were hard. “Do you want me to come closer?”

She took a deep breath through her parted lips, and I saw her chest heave with uncertainty.

We both knew her answer would change not only the topic we discussed but also the entire course of the night, which would lead us down a more dangerous route.

And yet, I wanted to hear her say it.

Our gazes locked, and the glaring sexual tension around us only intensified. There was no use denying its presence. I felt it. She fought it. But ignoring the attraction didn’t make it any less real.

When I arrived at the club, I didn’t in the least expect to bump into anyone, much less a woman, powerful enough to distract me.

Matvey and a bunch of the other men had tried, springing up conversations that left me further disinterested.

And when they invited the strippers, I got up and left, needing some air.

“Yes, please. The distance is bothersome.”

Now, staring at this woman, that need was momentarily forgotten. My feet moved with a mind of their own, not stopping until I stood inches away from gazing into the dark flecks of her eyes.

“Come with me, Elena.”

Without a word, she was quick on my heels while I led us to a door through a dark corridor. I knocked thrice, and her short, puffy breaths shrouded the space while we waited. Shortly, the door creaked open, and Roman stepped out, eyes quietly looking at the young woman behind me.

“ Prosledi, chtoby nam ne meshali.” Make sure we are not disturbed.

He nodded once and stepped out of the private room, creating a clear path for us to enter.

“Wait, that’s….” Once inside, I slammed the door shut, pressed her back to it, and trapped her between my chest. She stared at me, eyes wide. “I’ve heard that language. You’re Russian.”

I didn’t hide my smirk. “And does that disturb you?”

Her gaze fell to my lips, and the heat in them scorched me.

“No…no, not exactly.”

The heat I felt wasn’t just in my chest or face—it was in my fingertips, behind my eyes, curling low in my stomach. It pulsed in silence, loud and urgent, thick and magnetic. Completely irrational, the space between us was charged, aching, waiting.

“Take off your jacket.”

It was a rough order, one she readily obeyed. The nude blazer dropped to her strappy heels softly, and she shuddered under the impact of the cold. And I wanted to tell her she wouldn’t be cold for long, that I would willingly heat her up, but I couldn’t focus on forming words in English.

My mouth watered at the sight of her full neck and voluptuous cleavage scarcely covered in woven strips of lace. I wanted a bite of her jugular and imagined her shudder at the flick of my tongue on her flawless olive skin.

“You say Luxe Nest offers the best home luxuries for homeowners. Are you on that list?”

Her smile, as sheepish as the first time I’d seen it, spread across her face when she laughed. “If you’re asking whether I’m a part of the items we market to homeowners, then, fortunately for me and my job, I’m not.”

Her laughter rang in my ears, made the blood in my veins simmer, and forced my balls to grow heavy in my pants with need.

I ran my fingers up her arms, fighting back a groan at how much softer her skin was than I’d thought, and I leaned closer, feeling the world blur into breath and skin and an impossible nearness.

“Well, I am a homeowner, and….” I breathed against her mouth. “ Ya khochu tebya.” I want you.

“What?”

The last of my restraint snapped, and I dove in, capturing her lips with mine, like an angry fed arresting a wanted man. She responded, sighing into my mouth like a fish thrown back into the water, and I closed my eyes.

The wave of insane lust took over, and our souls ached, pushing us into a bubble. Hot breaths mingled with desperate groans and the intoxicating taste of tequila .

With one hand, I cupped her jaw, forcefully deepening the kiss.

Her hot tongue flicked over mine and I sucked on it, relishing on the faint traces of lime, while my free hand wandered below the swell of her hips, going lower, and lower until my palms made contact with the thickness of her thighs.

I dug my nails in, feasting on her flesh, and her gasp went down my throat.