Page 10

My feet are killing me. The expensive shoes held out way longer than my usual stilettos do, but after an entire evening, there’s only so much even money can do. I’m ready to strip them off and stick my feet in my fluffy slippers back at home. After I make sure they’re rat-free.

I make my way out to the street to call for a car, realizing I’m probably one of the only people here, apart from the staff working the event, who doesn’t have a private car already waiting. Valets trot back and forth on the sidewalk, and I’m careful to stay out of their way.Tonight offered a glimpse into a world where I’ll never belong: the world of the elite, the wealthy, the powerful. I might be Mr. Milov’s assistant, able to tag along into his world like a dutiful pet, but I’ll never truly be part of it, no matter what dress or shoes I’m wearing.On top of that, Mr. Milov didn’t even bother to seek me out tonight. We spent the evening orbiting each other, and I was forced to stand around watching him flirt, unable to resist the magnetic pull toward him, unable to tear my eyes away. I was jealous—stupidly, foolishly jealous. He’s just my boss; I’m determined to keep it that way, so why does the sight of him with another woman make me want to hurl?

At least Anya was there to keep me company. She is so warm and friendly, so unlike her brothers, that it’s hard to believe they are even related. Then there is Viktor, Mr. Milov’s twin. Similar good looks, similar charm, but I feel none of that inescapable draw toward him like I do toward Mr. Milov. Clearly, my attraction is more than just physical, which spells trouble.

I check my phone. The car is still ten minutes away, moving slowly through the evening traffic, and I watch its yellow dot come to a standstill a few streets away. All I want is to be home. Something about Mr. Milov insisting I come tonight just to not spend a minute of it with me is humiliating in a way that has to do more with my pride and my heart than with anything professional. He must be embarrassed by me. That’s the only explanation I can think of. Maybe he thought with the dress and the shoes I’d look more presentable, that I’d be worth showing up with, but when he actually caught a glimpse of me realized that was a mistake.

Maybe when it’s just the two of us, he’s happy to be all over me, happy to want me, but in public, it’s another story altogether. I’ve known a few men like that. Attracted to plus-sized women in the bedroom but unwilling to take one on a date. Cowards. I’d thought better of Mr. Milov somehow, but now I know better.

Standing here in this extravagant dress, watching everyone else pass by and get into their cars, only adds to my humiliation. If the ground were to open up right now, I’d leap in without a second thought and let it swallow me whole.

A car pulls up, flashy and low to the ground, with blacked-out windows and a purring engine. It stops right in front of me, and I cluck my tongue against the roof of my mouth, wondering which playboy it belongs to. I wrap my arms around myself and step to one side, wishing I could make myself even smaller, when the driver’s side door swings open and Mr. Milov gets out.

“There you are, Ella. I’ve been looking for you. Then Anya said you’d left and I was worried I’d missed you completely.” He approaches, hand outstretched toward mine, and I take a step away from him. His face falls like he actually gives a crap about me, but I know that’s all an act. “Can I give you a ride home, please?”

I squeeze my arms tighter around myself, starting to shiver. “I’m fine. I’ve got a car coming any minute now. You’re probably in the way of it, actually.” And in the way of everyone else waiting along this strip, but he doesn’t seem to care about that at all.

“Cancel it,” he says, stalking toward me. “Let me take you home.”

Scoffing, I shake my head. The audacity of this man. “First, you ignore me all night, and then you show up at the last minute and expect to take me home?”

His brow wrinkles, and I try not to stare at the way he looks with his suit unbuttoned, tie gone, a little disheveled. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to spend the evening with you like I’d planned. I promise you, I would’ve preferred to spend every minute of it by your side, but it turned into one thing after another, and by the time I came up for air, you were gone.”

I don’t believe him. It’s an easy lie, an excuse he can make now when there’s no going back to fix things. The truth is, he insisted I come to this stupid event and then decided I was too embarrassing to be seen with.

“Just admit you’re ashamed of me,” I demand, my voice low, not wanting to attract the attention of any bystanders. “Admit that you saw me and realized you don’t want to be seen with me in public when there are women like… like that out there you could be with instead.”

“First of all,” he says, holding up his hand to forestall any more words from me, “I couldn’t be more proud to be seen with a woman as gorgeous as you, Ella. Second of all, I thought you’d made it clear that you’re my assistant and only my assistant, that anything more between us is impossible.”

Shoot. He’s got me there. This night has me so turned around that I let my real feelings slip through for a moment, and I can’t snatch them back now. Come on, sidewalk, open up, please.

“I mean, as your assistant. You had me come out here for what, just to humiliate me by avoiding me all night? If Anya hadn’t been there, I’d have felt like a complete fool.”

My voice is rising now, but I can’t stop the words spilling out of my mouth or the hot flush rising to my cheeks.

He closes the distance between us and wraps his hand around my waist in front of everyone, waiting for their cars. Shock keeps me from pulling away. It’s nothing to do with how safe I feel in his arms, how it halts my runaway emotions in their tracks. When he holds me, my mind goes still.

“Ella,” he says, catching my chin between his forefinger and thumb and gently tilting it upward so I have no choice but to look up, “I wanted to spend the evening with you, more than anything. Business kept me away, nothing more. I’m sorry.”

This close, I can’t spot a lie in his green eyes, can’t catch it in the tone of his voice. He looks earnest. Dare I believe him? I shake my head, but I don’t know if I’m denying his words or my own gut feeling that I can trust him.

“Let me take you home.” He strokes his thumb softly over my cheek. “It’s not enough to make it up to you, but maybe it’s a start.”

“I have a car coming,” I protest, but it sounds lame even to my own ears.

“And mine is already here. It’s just more efficient.” Hand on my lower back, he guides me to his car and opens the door for me, revealing an interior that looks more like a spaceship than any car I’ve ever been in.

I lower myself in, mindful of my gown, and catch a flash of a smile from him as he shuts my door. Whenever I’m with him, it seems so simple. It’s in the space between where my mind has time to think and worry that all the trouble starts.

He settles himself into the driver seat and we’re silent as he pulls out onto the road, the roar of the engine the only sound as he navigates us through the congested streets. I can’t help staring at the way his long fingers wrap around the steering wheel, can’t help remembering how they felt inside of me. His touch is everything.

“Will you forgive me?” he asks. He flicks his gaze over to me, and I shift in my seat beneath its heat, his obvious desire.

The feeling is mutual. His suit hugs the thick muscles of his thighs, and I long to climb over the center console and straddle him. The effect he has on me is impossible to ignore. I never should have gotten into this car, where I can’t help but stare at his face in the dashboard light. Shadows etch his perfect jaw. Every second in his presence wears down my self-control, and the wall that says this is nothing but business between us.

In that state, I can’t answer his question because my body clearly wants to forgive him. Instead, I avoid it, volleying back with one of my own since it’s easier to argue than to let the lust simmering between us boil over.

“Who was she? That woman who was hanging all over you?” I stare out the window. A light rain has started, peppering the glass, crystallizing the streetlights’ glow. What I really see is her Mr. Milov with another woman on his arm, someone thinner, wealthier, more suitable for his world.

“You mean Mrs. Kozlov? She’s just an investor. Seriously, you can’t think I’m interested in her. Not when I have you to compare her to.” He reaches for my thigh, to where the high slit of my dress reveals a V of pale skin, but I bat his hand away.

If he touches me, the tenuous hold I have on my self-control will snap. All my embarrassment and indignation won’t be enough to keep me from climbing him.

“Is that how you speak to all your investors?” I challenge, folding my hands in my lap so he can’t see them shaking. Not with nerves. With the strain of holding back from him.

He blows air from his nose in a scoff. “No, of course not. We’ve been courting her for a while. Her husband, actually, for years before his death.”

That makes me sit up in my seat and turn toward him. “His death? She wasn’t that old.”

“Well, he was older.”

He’s holding something back from me. I can see it in the way his jaw is working, the way his eyes are suddenly glued to the road when a minute ago he couldn’t keep them off of me.

“And? There’s something else.” Doubt burrows a hole into my chest and why can’t it ever be simple with him? He makes it so hard to trust.

We’ve reached a stretch of open road, and he presses the gas pedal hard, the force of the acceleration pushing me back in my seat. This time, my stomach flips with exhilaration. Everything we pass is a blur.

“He didn’t die of natural causes. He was murdered.” It’s costing him to tell me this, gritting out every word between clenched teeth. His hand wraps around the shifter, and I swallow around a lump in my throat.

“Murdered?”

“A deal gone wrong. That sort of thing. It’s nothing to worry about now that it’s just Mrs. Kozlov.” He sighs and slows the car, turning onto my potholed, dimly lit street.

One flickering streetlamp is all that’s left of the lights, and it’s on the farthest corner from my apartment, leaving my building in complete darkness. I’d completely forgotten him driving me home would mean him seeing where I live, and how completely embarrassing that is. Especially when I’ve already seen his penthouse.

“Um, you can just drop me here,” I say, reaching for the door handle like I’m going to roll out before he comes to a stop.

He rolls his eyes and keeps driving, stopping directly in front of my building. That’s when I realized I never told him where I live.

“I’m not letting you walk one step farther than you have to in this place. It’s bad enough that you live here.” He gets out of the car and starts to walk around to my door, but I’m determined to pop out before he can assist me.

Only my dress gets tangled around my calves while I’m still in stilettos, causing me to spill out of the open door into his arms. He catches me effortlessly and sets me on my feet as if I weigh nothing at all, leaving me dumbstruck once again at just how strong he is. Too bad he’s also a total playboy and, at this moment, shady.

“How do you know where I live?” I pull free from his arms and onto the crumbling curb.

“It’s in your file,” he says, nonchalantly. “And I have a good memory. Come on, I’ll walk you to your door.”

“It’s right there,” I argue, pointing to the dark doorway. “I can take it from here, and I’m sure Mrs. Kozlov is waiting for you.”

He growls something I can’t make out and grabs me, pulling me against him and capturing my lips in a hungry, crushing kiss. He’s all I can taste, all I want to taste, and my tongue darts greedily out into his mouth for more. His hands are in my hair, tangling in the curls and mine are all over him, up and down his back, looping behind his neck to bring him down closer to me.

When he breaks the kiss, I gasp, breathless and pouting at the sudden lack of him. “Mrs. Kozlov is nothing but business,” he growls, walking me backward until my back hits the wall of my building. His hands cushion me from the impact, but I’m trapped now, prey for him.

“I’m nothing but business,” I bite back, my lips still stinging from his kiss. I want more. It was just a teaser, leaving me hungry.

He looms above me, one arm above my head, pinning me in place beneath him. “You’re more than that, Ella. You’re everything.”

My knees wobble, and I can’t speak, because what am I supposed to say to that? It can’t be true, but I’ve never heard him sound more serious. He kisses me again, sweetly and way too briefly, then grabs my hand and tugs me inside.

“What are you doing?” I ask, blinking in the awful fluorescent light.

“Taking you home,” he replies, heading for the stairs. He hesitates and turns toward me. “Which apartment?”

“I can make it from here on my own, don’t you think?”

He shakes his head and leads the way up the stairs, his fingers twined with mine. We’re both breathing hard, and it has nothing to do with the climb. At my door, he pulls me toward him again, pinning me against the wood and stealing another kiss. Can he steal it when I want to give it, wanting to give all of myself to him? Alarm bells are screaming in my head, and his hand finds that slit in my dress. His fingers slip beneath the silk.

They dig into my thigh as his mouth plunders mine, then move up toward the center of me. The first brush of his fingertips against my soaking panties makes my knees tremble, and it’s only the desperate grip I have on the front of his suit that keeps me standing. His fingers slip my panties to one side, and his thumb brushes my clit, my gasp captured by his lips.

One finger, then two pushes inside of me, stretching me as his thumb circles my clit. I don’t even care that we’re right here where anyone can see us, all I care about is centered on his fingers and the way they’re making me come undone. He’s sinking them in as deep as they’ll go now and still, I want more.

No man has ever made me feel the way he does. Clothes on, standing in a hallway, and he has me wanting to scream his name. His other hand unzips the top of my dress, then finds my breast, pinching and kneading my nipple mercilessly.

I’m close. So close. One more rub of his thumb and he sends me hurtling over the edge, my teeth finding his lip to keep from crying out. With my orgasm comes a touch of clarity, just enough to make me realize the scene I’m making. With my boss. I unwrap myself from Mr. Milov and make a half-hearted attempt to smooth my dress down. Even from here, I can see he’s hard, his dick straining against the fabric of his suit.

If he asked me to, I don’t think I could say no to taking him to bed. I know I couldn’t. I want him inside of me so badly I’m trembling, but he doesn’t ask.

Like he can read my thoughts, he smooths my hair back and says, “I keep my promises. Not until you beg me to. Goodnight, Ella. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

I nod because words are too hard right now. My mind is a puddle. He’s waiting still, so I guess he’s really not leaving until I’m safely inside my apartment. Overprotective. Domineering. But kind of endearing at the same time. I slip inside and shut the door behind me, even locking it because I can practically hear him scolding me if I don’t.

My heart is racing, and I know sleep is a long way off, even though I’m exhausted. Tomorrow is going to be rough.