Page 28 of Frequency of Attraction

Show me, Quinn.

Eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, he was rewarded with a photo of her hand underneath flowery panties.

Grinning, he sent a reply.Did it work?

Of course not. I need you to even get close.

Fuck yes, she did.I’ve got you, printsessa. Trust me.

15

“Motherfucker!”

Quinn slammed the newspaper down on her desk so hard her hand stung. She read quickly, growing angrier with each word. When she was done reading, she stalked across the hall to Tate’s office.

“Have you seen this?” She tossed the latest issue of theVictory Observeron his desk, obviously startling him.

Ten days had passed since Vadim had asked Jerry to leave his office. Apparently, Jerry had been busy muckraking since then.

Tate read through way too slowly. Quinn tapped her foot impatiently, dreaming up ways to eviscerate the so-called journalist for dragging Vadim’s name through the mud. The Partying Pilot, Jerry had billed him. He hadn’t written a word, not a single word, about Vadim’s astronaut training. He’d dredged up heartbreaking details of Vadim’s upbringing in a poor village outside Moscow. Every photo but one, a Google image of the village she couldn’t even attempt to pronounce, were credited to Instagram. How, she didn’t know, since Vadim’s account was private. She’d checked that the very first day he’d toured OrbitAll. Most of the photos were in bars and clubs, featuring Vadim with footballers or gaggles of scantily dressed women. Jerry had glossed over Vadim’s flight experience entirely and gone straight for his reputation as a man.

That low blow would not stand.

Finally, Tate set the paper down. He leaned back in his chair unsmiling and crossed his arms. “What do you want to do about this?”

“I want to buy the fucking newspaper and fire thatputainin front of the entire editorial staff,” she fumed.

A smile twitched in the corner of his mouth. “What are you actually going to do?”

“I don’t know yet. I certainly don’t want Vadim to see this.” Not that Quinn was worried that he subscribed to the local paper. But some of the staff might. They mostly lived in town, as OrbitAll was located in the middle of nowhere.

“Let me know before you take action, please.”

Quinn nodded. She went back to her office, leaving the paper with Tate. She never wanted to see that drivel again. She’d just gotten home from Tokyo the day before and had been looking forward to time with Vadim that evening. He’d kept teasing her with increasingly racy photos of himself during her short trip, and she’d even sent a couple of her own. The last one had showed a nipple. He had replied,That needs to be in my mouth already.

She couldn’t wait. But now she’d have to hide her feelings about the stupid article.

Typically, Quinn loved Tokyo. She was a sucker for Japanese food and the divine shopping. On this latest trip, she’d hit up her standard tonkatsu place in Roppongi and Shibuya109, her favorite place for cute tops. But her mind kept flitting back to Victory, wondering what Vadim was doing, and how Tate was faring without Rosie. Those two belonged together. Hopefully Rosie would come to the hotel’s groundbreaking next week. Maybe Tate had a plan. Maybe Rosie would listen.

Even the grand opening of the new Chaleur store hadn’t dazzled as much as it used to. International travel was losing its luster. She’d been traveling her entire life, first with her parents’ jobs with Geier Group and now for her own role. She should talk to Shannon, the PR manager, about sharing those duties.

Seated at her desk, Quinn navigated to the philanthropy section of the Geier Group website. She’d written the mission statement on the landing page, but no one had taken the program further, herself included. Sure, Tate was moving forward with the homeless housing project as a way to woo Rosie. That, which he’d dubbed Rosy Row, and their support of Representation in Aerospace, was the sum total of their charitable giving. Dismal for a company as large as theirs.

Quinn sighed. She decided to skip her daily tabloid check. After theObserverarticle, she was not in the mood for media.

“How was Tokyo?”

Her body registered Vadim’s deep voice before her brain did. Tingles erupted from her core at the sight of her gigantic sexual partner leaning in the doorframe of her office. Once again, she marveled at his shape. His legs were strong yet not bulging. He looked delicious in the snug European clothing he favored that showed off every muscle. And those eyes tore right through her. The rare times she’d seen them crinkle in a smile, it was like the sun parting clouds.

Quinn realized she hadn’t answered. “Uh, fine. I had some incredible meals. Have you been to Tokyo?”

He shook his head. “Our team never played there. I’ve been all over Europe, but not Asia.”

“I realized during this trip that I have never traveled for fun. Isn’t that sad?”

His heavy brows drew together. “You choose not to travel for fun. Most people just can’t.”

Quinn cringed. She sometimes forgot how far removed her wealth made her from the rest of the world. And if Jerry’s stupid article wasn’t libelous, Vadim had known deprivation most of his life.

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