Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
She studies my face like I’ve seen her studying her ledgers. She’s trying to read what’s wrong, despite my assurance that everything is fine. I should know better. There isn’t a problem she won’t solve. I set a palm to her waist to anchor both of us.
I could decide to keep her as close as possible. I could take her off any projects that could land her in more danger or make her ask more questions. I could request an internal audit that keeps her behind closed doors for weeks and away from anyone else.
She’s far too inquisitive to stay safe. I know it. This could only work if I gave her personal security and assigned her a driver.
She rests her forearms on my shoulders and waits. The moment comes and goes when I could ask her to leave. I don’t. Her eyes hold the same question she doesn’t seem to want to ask again.
“I’m fine,” I tell her, more firmly.
She nods once and reaches up to cup my face. She tilts her mouth to mine and kisses me slowly. It isn’t heat and desperation. It’s sweeter, more languid. Exactly the kind of kissing I never do.
I think about the call I took and the order I gave.
If I push her out of the company, my weakness will be exposed and vulnerable, and she will have no idea exactly how much danger she’s in. If I keep her with me, I’ll always be sure that she’s breathing. The math shakes out no matter how long I stare at it.
I’m struck again by just how strong she is. She doesn’t have to be brave, but she chooses to be. She doesn’t need me, but she wants me. And I’m losing my mind trying to pretend that I don’t want her with every fiber of my being.
So, I stand up and follow her back to my room.
9
MARI
By nine a.m. Monday, I’m already on my second coffee, and my spreadsheet is still a disaster. I’m distracted. I keep seeing Lev’s hands braced on the edge of his dining table, and I keep telling myself to focus on vendor shells instead. It doesn’t help.
I spent the weekend in his bed, pushing away every thought of who he is. Now I’m back in the real world, and nothing fits cleanly. I’m falling for a Bratva boss. I almost laugh because the word feels ridiculous in such a bright office with a plant wall and catered muffins.
I’m consumed by him, and I have to be honest with myself about that. Yes, he’s dangerous, but I can’t stay away from him. This weekend proved that pretty clearly. My self-control falls right out the window in his presence. It started at that damn club, and working for him hasn’t made it any easier. If anything, it’s made my lust for him even worse.
It’s just sex, I remind myself. That’s all we have. Really good, mind-blowing, out-of-this-world sex. That isn’t a good enough reason for me to look past all his faults. Is it?
Lev doesn’t come in. His blinds stay at the exact angle he left them Friday night. He doesn’t text me or send me a calendar notice. I’m not someone who needs to know his comings and goings.
The truth of that sits wrong in my chest, so I bury myself in my work. I will not think about Lev and how he keeps my blood pressure spiking in the best way. Instead, I reconcile a batch, flag a suspicious transfer, draft a request to the bank, and pretend I’m not anxiously waiting for him to walk through the door.
But the thoughts start to nag at me. Why isn’t he here? I left his mansion early this morning. I was sure he’d be right behind me.
What if something happened to him? What if his enemies attacked him?
I don’t know how any of this works. Is he in danger every second of every day? Does he constantly have to watch his back? Am I always going to be worried that he’s dead when he’s an hour late to work?
By ten, I give up the pretense of working on this account and take a walk to the copier, just to give my brain a break from the incessant thoughts. It seems extra quiet today. I’d expect the boss being gone to make everyone chattier, but everyone seems buried in their own work. I sigh and head back to my office, wishing for a distraction.
When it does come, though, it’s far more dramatic than I expect. A man rushes into my office with the same general demeanor as the guards at Lev’s house. He sweeps the room with his eyes without looking at me, then says, “We’re leaving.”
“Excuse me?” My voice spikes. “I’m not going anywhere with you! I don’t even know who you are.”