Page 21 of Under His Control
“Anatoly,” he corrects.
“Anatoly. What’s the next step?”
He leans in, his breath skimming my ear. “Next, I’ll have my attorney draft the contract. If you agree, we both sign.”
I turn my head slightly, our mouths just inches apart. His lips are so close, so tempting. I ache to taste the wine on his tongue. “You’re moving awfully fast.”
“I only have ten days left. Besides, you said your brother didn’t have much time, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Then say yes to me.”
My heart hammers so loud he must be able to hear it. I close my eyes and inhale his scent. When I open them again, resolve clicks into place.
“I’ll need to see that contract soon,” I say, voice steadier than I feel, “but…yes. I’m willing to discuss terms, at least.”
His answering smile is pure, dark satisfaction. He lifts his glass in a silent toast, the garnet-colored liquid catching the light and appearing like blood. I mirror the gesture with trembling fingers.
But before I take a drink, I lower the glass, a lingering question I need to know clawing its way to the surface. I shift slightly on the couch, nerves lighting up beneath my skin.
“Why me? Surely, there are many women who would jump at this proposition. Models. Socialites. Trust-fund princesses who’d marry you just for the status. So…why me? I’m just a random employee.”
Anatoly doesn’t flinch. He sets his glass on the table with deliberate calm and leans closer, the scent of cedar and power wrapping around me like a noose.
His fingers lift to brush a strand of hair from my cheek, slow and warm. They linger just enough to make my breath hitch.
“Because I’m not looking for a trophy on my arm or a name in a contract. I’m looking for someone who’s already proven herself.”
I blink, confused.
“Charles speaks highly of you,” he continues. “Says you’re brilliant. Competent. A natural leader with nerves of steel under pressure. I find that extremely attractive.”
My stomach flips. I wasn’t expecting that. At all.
“You’re loyal to your family and you care for them deeply,” he adds. “So much so that you were ready to sacrifice your future and your financial security for your brother’s life, willing to suffer in silence for years, if necessary. That’s noble, Taylor. That’s strength.”
I swallow hard.
“And let’s not forget,” he says, lips curving into a smirk, “you walked into Mrs. Belova’s lair without blinking. I’ve seen cold-hearted Bratva killers cower under her gaze, but you? You held your ground. Risked your job. You came for what you wanted, and you didn’t back down.”
His fingers trail along my jaw, slow and intimate before falling away. His gaze is pure heat, slow-burning and possessive.
“I won’t have to fake attraction for publicity’s sake. Not for a second.”
The room tilts again, and my legs press tighter together, the ache between them sharp, insistent. He’s watching, reading every reaction, and I realize he likes that I can’t hide how badly I want him.
“Now, shall we discuss the rest of the benefits?”
I draw a shaky breath, forcing my thoughts back to the present. I lift my chin in defiance. “Not until the contract is clear.” My voice trembles, and I know he hears the unspoken invitation beneath the words.
He nods, eyes gleaming. “Fair enough. What do you want to know?”
The words come out before I can stop them.
“I want to know about you. Everything.”
CHAPTER 8
