Page 183 of Sinful Blaze

MAK: Feeling generous today? Or does your office just reek of sex, you dirty little perv?

On second thought, they can all starve.

69

PASHA

I scowl at the apartment building. “You could come with me to the office instead of this, you know.”

“You and I both know that if I go to your office with you, you won’t be getting any work done.”

I grin. “I fail to see the problem with that.”

Daphne leans over the console to kiss my cheek. “I’m going to hang out here at Hazel’s, show her the new ultrasounds. You’re going to go be the sexy, powerful, responsible CEO of Chekhov International.”

“I’d rather be irresponsible.”

“Be good, and I’ll reward you later.”

My scowl remains, but I scoop the back of Daphne’s neck and kiss her back. “Fine. You drive a hard bargain, but I accept.”

I slide out of the car and walk over to her side to help her out. Strongly independent as she is, we’ve reached the point in her pregnancy where getting in and out of vehicles is exhausting.

“Be good,” she reminds me as she takes my hand and emerges. “And I’ll wear that red nightie you got me.”

As she walks away, she flips up the hem of her skirt to give me the tiniest flash of ass cheek.

Fucking tease.

I think I love her.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?”

I have half a mind to chew out every last idiot of the main floor’s security team. The other half is reminding myself to not lay hands on the witch in front of me.

Brittany Cleary holds up a badge and feigns an apologetic shrug. “I snuck in. Made a copy before I left, actually, so you can relax and leave your poor security guards alone. They did their job.”

I yank the door open and point. “Get the fuck out.”

She grins at me, every bit the predatory cat stalking her mouse. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Get. Out.”

“I’m not here to play games, Pasha. You need to look at these?—”

“I said, Get the fuck out!”

“Look at them!” She throws a stack of papers on my desk. “Look at them and tell me you know exactly who you’re sleeping with!”

Were she anyone else, I might entertain the bait. But I know her reputation, her habits. This can only be yet another fucking scheme that leads to nowhere. So I march over to her, grab her elbow, and drag her to the door.

Brittany grabs one of the papers from the desk and shoves it against my chest. “She’s been lying to you! She’s a Hamish!”

That makes me pause.

My stomach turns when I look down at the crumpled paper. It’s a photo of Daphne in a cap and gown, smiling proudly at the camera and holding her diploma.

Next to her is Melanie, still in her teens with a mouth full of braces.

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