Page 15 of Roman Petrov

Her gasp freezes as my mouth works higher until I pinch the lobe of her ear between my teeth.

“It wouldn’t be so bad, wife. You may even enjoy yourself.”

When I back away, my dick tents my pants, but I don’t make any effort to hide it.

Let her see what she’s missing.

“So, dinner?” I slide my thumb under the hem of her alluring shorts. “Or, do I get to have my dessert?”

Her flushed cheeks don’t hide the effect I’ve had. “I’ll be down in just a moment.”

She darts into her room and slams the door.

I knew she’d see things my way.

8

NADIA

I can’t seem to make this chiffon sit right. Cussing at it doesn’t seem to help. But, the impending date of my next show means I have to figure this shit out.

Where is my sketchbook? Maybe I had a moment of genius when I was designing.

It isn’t where I would expect it to be.

I’ve taken over one of the extra bedrooms as my new work studio. Trying to get things where I want them is a pain, but it isn’t as bad as last week when Roman’s goons just dumped everything and I had to spend two days sorting it all out.

I know it’s around here somewhere?

Moving piles of fabric, I search on the chair seats I’ve been using as makeshift racks.

“Dammit.” A little flurry of panic begins to percolate through me. That thing is more important than even a journal. It haseverythingin it.

Including personal notes.

But, more importantly for this dress, it has the layout in it.

Argh. This makes me want to pull my hair out. I’m stuck until I find it.

Getting a cup of coffee might help. It will give me a chance to step away and regroup. I need the caffeine. It’s going to be a long night until I get everything done for fittings.

Roman is leaning over the counter facing away from me when I come around the corner.

His dark slacks hug the tight curve of his ass and thighs, sending a quiver into my belly as I think about the strength he hides under those snug designer suits.

If I liked him more, I’d be tempted to swat him as I pass and beg for forgiveness.

My stomach drops as I get closer and see what has him so fascinated.

It’s my book, full of intimate musings and?—

Oh, fuck. Drawings of him.

I think I may puke.

“These are very good.” His voice is a growl as he turns the page.

“Um. That’s mine.” I lunge forward, but grasp empty air as he hoists my hidden secrets above his head and out of my reach.

---