Page 4

“I really am sorry for the mix-up,” she says, blushing again, and a slow burn of annoyance starts.

“I should have paid more attention when entering your room and I just wanted to relax and take that bath and… I used your hot towel. That’s why the maid service came in so late, isn’t it? They knew you were coming.”

I take her face in one hand, turning it, making her face me. And I try like hell not to think about the soft warm silk of her skin or the fact if I slipped my hand down, I’d have my fingers on the hot beat of her pulse.

“This is your problem, how exactly?” I ask, keeping my voice even.

“I should have looked.” She drops her eyes to the blini in one hand and she turns all pinched, like she’s done something wrong, and the annoyance flares close to anger.

“Not. Your. Fault.” Her eyes dart to me. “Let me ask you something. Who made you so apologetic, gave you that nugget of down-on-yourself and it’s all your fault?”

The blush that rises is enough to let me know it was a man and I entertain some light fantasy murder.

“I’m—”

“Don’t apologize again,” I say, letting her go.

She finishes her blini. I wouldn’t mind one, but… I’m fucking hard and she’s too close.

“Relax. You made a mistake. Someone should’ve seen you to your room.” And heads will roll, which isn’t her concern.

That’s mine.

One I look forward to.

“But you’re a welcome distraction.”

“I am?”

“You, the bath? That’s either a distraction or an attention grabber. Definitely the latter when you’re in there. The former now, because, damned if I try not to, my brain keeps snagging on that.”

She drains her champagne as her pupils dilate, and bless her innocent heart, she drops her gaze to my crotch where I’m sure she can see what she’s doing to me. I’m not advertising it, but I’m not hiding it, either.

“Are you sure you’re not going out and I’m stopping you? The tux…”

“No, Lyubimaya , it arrived tonight, rush job from one of the finest tailors in town. Not Milan or Paris or even the UK. This is one who’s hidden in Chinatown, who does the most exquisite suits. And the rich and famous who go are always asked who they’re wearing, but they never tell.”

“The same one who made the suit you’re wearing? ”

I loosen my tie. “ Da . My little sister’s turning eighteen, so it’s a big-ass bash. And I got that for her.”

“She wears men’s suits?”

I smile. “Funny. No, she’s got some slinky number that’ll hopefully give the old man a heart attack.” I’m still smiling, but the steel that’s pierced my tone isn’t.

I fucking hate my father. Demyan, you’re never good enough. Demyan, you disappoint me. Another scandal, Demyan?

The list goes on. The asshole never acknowledges the work I do. The money I make him, the order I keep when people like Aleksandr try to rise up.

And the more he pushes me, not to be better, stronger, deadlier, but to be more like him, the more I fight back. I’ll do things my way. He’s a fossil, a dinosaur, last of the old guard.

There’s a reason the bratva is changing; the different factions are splintering or joining. The power shifts are something he’s got to feel but clearly refuses to let it in.

I wish I could walk, but it’s my birthright and I want it before he destroys it all. But until that time comes, I enjoy my scandals that work twofold. One, they piss my father off, and two, they make friend and foe alike underestimate me.

Only those close to me know the ice in my veins, my utter ruthlessness and razor ways with business. I don’t give too many chances. Exactly three. And then goodbye forever.

To life.

She looks at me, a slight frown marring her brow. “You don’t mean that.”

I do. But I flip the subject. “It’s been a long day for me, too. But you’re here and you’re… lovely.”

Thing is, I love the scandals and I’m half thinking of convincing her to stay and come with me as my inappropriate date; however, scandal to fuck my father off is one thing. Scandal that’ll have the potential to ruin Alina’s party is another.

But I have a reputation; I move through these scandals like a fucking hurricane. I sleep with whatever sexy woman I want, whoever catches my attention.

And this one…

I top off her champagne.

Maybe she’s the distraction I need. For tonight. And maybe she’ll save a head or two of the staff along with their jobs. “Do you have a name?”

“Oh. I’m sorry. It’s Erin.”

“Pleased to meet you, pretty Erin.” I take her free hand and kiss it. She smells like my products and warm lavender honey. It’s an insanely evocative mix.

And with that, I know I want to mix our scents more.

But first… I lean in, closing the gap, a flash of anticipation rioting through me as she subconsciously tips her chin. An offer. It’s better than me stealing it.

I take it and feather my lips against hers, the warm lavender honey of her a subtle twist around me as her mouth opens a little. Storming the gates is totally my style, but not this time. The strike’s underhanded, a taste of seduction and one I’m not immune to.

The tip of her tongue touches mine, and I take it as an invitation to deepen the kiss. I flip it into a deeper taste. She’s soft and warm, salt and fruit and the richness of her. And when she makes a tiny sound, leaning in and opening further, I skate the line of decency.

She tastes like desire and innocence. Of sex and deep, untested wells of passion. And she’s sweet, but the shake to her is an invitation all its own and I want entry to every part of her. All of it. Now.

Fuck. I end the kiss .

Erin blinks and her cheeks hold a subtle flush that I want to see if it goes all the way down.

“D-do you have a name?” Erin asks.

I toss back the rest of my champagne and set the glass down, and I don’t let go of her hand. It’s warm and sends little pricks of delight through me.

“Of course I do. But this will be much more fun if you don’t know it.”

“What will?”

“You and me,” I say, “naked. I know you felt that need, too. There in our kiss.”

She doesn’t move.

“You can get up and walk out. Fuck, I’ll even walk you to your room or to the elevator if that’s what you want. But if you want to stay…”

Erin swallows. “What?”

“You don’t strike me as a one-night stand girl, but there is fun in that.

So if you stay…” I get up and she does too, pulling her hand to her side.

“If you choose to stay, you’re going to be thoroughly fucked.

I’ll make you come so hard you won’t be able to walk straight, and you’ll see stars for weeks. ”

I take her in. I honestly don’t know which way she’s going to go. Give in to the want I keep seeing in her eyes or run.

I smile. “So.” I step closer to her, holding out my hand. “Are you staying or leaving?”