A tiny frown formed on her brow. She touched her mask. “But they don’t know me.”
“They don’t know you,” he skimmed a hand down his face, “But they do recognize me.”
She caught that hand in hers, squeezing it. Her eyes swept across his face, and the appreciation in them told him that she liked what she saw. It warmed something in his chest.
He cleared his throat. “Since I’ve never brought a woman to any such events before, everyone is curious about the beautiful woman on my arm tonight.”
Her lips rounded in an oh. He saw her throat work. But she didn’t ask the question he knew she was dying to ask. Which was… why had he invited her? Why was she on his arm?
The truth was that he had no answers to those questions. None. He only knew that having her with him felt right. They had two days left before she had to return to Dubai. And in those two days, he was going to focus only on the things that felt good between them. And so much of it felt good when she was with him. He’d forgotten that feeling of being utterly happy until she had landed in Moscow and reminded him of what true happiness felt like.
Hence, for the next days, he’d forget that she had hurt him once, and simply enjoy being with her—the only woman he had never managed to forget. The only woman his heart had always ached for.
24
Ananya sipped her champagne, watching Mihir talk with the Minister of Energy of an African nation.
She studied his profile. Dressed in a full black tuxedo and matching black mask—his posture erect, his jaw lifted—he looked like he was born to command everyone and everything in this room. That sexy scar on his face only added to the danger that oozed from him. She still didn’t know how he had got the scar in the first place. She’d ask him eventually. Soon, she’d get the answers to all her questions. But she did hate that he thought less of himself because of it. He really shouldn’t. Of all the men in this room, she had eyes only for him. Of course, she hadn’t failed to notice all the other women whose eyes kept straying to Mihir. Her hand tightened on Mihir’s arm. He immediately looked her way and arched a brow. She shook her head, loosening her grip on him, and he continued conversing with the man in front of him.
The man with Mihir left, and another took his place, something that had been going on for the last half an hour. And they were all very important people—the defense minister of some country, the ruler of a smaller nation, the Secretary of State of another country… the list went on and on. She looked around. There were no security guards anywhere. Anton had told her on the way here that they were forced to wait outside—something that Chekov and he disliked. But the UK embassy was sacred UK ground, and they couldn’t do much except follow the protocol. However, he had assured her that they all were safe here.
Mihir drew her to him and introduced her to yet another business associate of his. He’d been trying his best to include her in his conversations. He’d made her feel comfortable throughout and hadn’t left her side at all. Still, several times, his conversations drifted into business concerns, like right now. She stood quietly by his side, listening as he spoke in Russian. It still boggled her mind that he could speak Russian so fluently now. She knew he was learning in those days, but she’d thought it was a hobby, not a purpose.
Mihir looked up and found her watching him. Something dangerous flickered in his eyes as they raked her from head to toe. Her stomach knotted with answering desire. The urge to grab his hand and take him to a corner where she could have her way with him rushed through her. With that also came the need to claim him in front of all these people, especially the women who wouldn’t stop ogling him. Oh, how she wanted to claim him in front of them all. How she hated the hungry looks they threw his way.
She took another sip of her champagne. She couldn’t do any of that. He wasn’t hers. He’d made it amply clear that he didn’t want to be hers. But even that knowledge didn’t stop her from remembering exactly how he made her feel when he touched her. And that she wanted him to touch her again. To give her the pleasure only he could.
His lips curved in a knowing smile, as if he knew exactly where her thoughts had flown. Her heart melted. Fuck, that smile. That devastating smile had ruined her life once, and now, so many years and heartbreaks later, she’d jumped headfirst into yet another reckless situation with him, without thinking through the consequences.
God, if she could change one thing from that time, it would be that she should have gotten to know everything about him. In hindsight, she realized she should have asked him more questions about his life, his past, his father, and his brothers. She should have been less… naïve.
The man in front of Mihir said something, and Mihir looked away from her. She took a deep, much-needed breath of air, happy to not be the focus of his intense and confusing attention for a moment. She needed time to gather her thoughts. But her relief was short-lived. A moment later, the man shook Mihir’s hand and left.
Once again, Mihir turned his attention to her. “I apologize for leaving you unattended for so long.”
“It’s fine. I can see how important you are.”
“Being the MD comes with its own stress.” Mihir picked up a shot of vodka from a passing waiter and downed it in a single gulp. Taking the empty glass from her hand, he handed both their glasses back to the waiter.
“Do you want another drink?” Mihir asked.
She shook her head.
“How were your meetings today?” she asked.
“Mostly good. I also had one meeting with the O-Corp board. It was a precursor to our annual meeting. As expected, a few of the board members have taken fault with me because I am being written about, and not in a good light. Those are mainly old men who are very patriotic and also happen to support Ivan’s claim to O-Corp.”
The music around them changed in tempo and increased in volume. Many of the attendees paired and took to the dance floor to the right of the room.
Ananya faced him. “Considering a broader outlook, don’t you think it’s ridiculous to expect the media to not write about a prominent person like yourself? Armaan was a playboy, for God’s sake. There were articles about his escapades everywhere. How was that not a problem?”
“True,” Mihir replied. “However, he’s not the MD. I am. And since I usually stay out of the media spotlight, my image has been pristine so far, which means there has been no reason for them to challenge my father’s decision to make me the MD, and not Ivan. They’re just using your posts as an excuse to undermine my authority and position. You see, they’ve always considered the three of us as outsiders, not truly Russian. After talking to them earlier, I suspect that Ivan’s been using your posts to poison their minds against me.”
Ananya looked at Mihir. “Well, I suppose I ought to apologize then.”
“You don’t sound apologetic in the least,” he replied, looking amused.
“I wrote those posts to disrupt your life a little bit. So, definitely not sorry about doing that. However, I am sorry if they are impacting your position as MD.”