Page 39 of Konstantin
The smart thing would be to end this. But I don’t want to. Not even a little.
And that’s the real problem.
I push up from my seat and move down the corridor, my footsteps silent against the marble. Entering my office, I find her seated at her desk. She turns slightly at the sound of my approach, but she doesn’t rise as our eyes connect, and something in me tightens.
“I’ll be needing those spreadsheets now.” I place the manila folder down on her desk, crowding her from behind. My hand brushes her shoulder, and she flinches.
“Meeting go well?” She flips the folder open, her tone dry like she doesn’t actually care.
“Better than expected.”
As I lean over, my mouth near her ear, the scent of her shampoo invades my senses—a sweet drug I never intended to get addicted to. Reaching around her, my hand covers hers as I guide the mouse across the screen to pull up the file she’ll need. Her breath hitches, making a smile tug at my lips.
“Let me show you where the templates are.”
“Okay.” She clears her throat, every tiny hair on her arm rising the more my hand remains there.
“Once you finish…” My lips brush the shell of her ear. “…we’ll have lunch.”
Or preferably, you’ll be my lunch, dinner, and dessert.
I can’t seem to forget how good she tasted, how much I want that again.
“Lunch with the boss on my first day?” She quirks a brow from behind her shoulder. “Should I be honored or concerned?”
“Both.” I offer her a small grain of truth. “I haven’t decided yet.” Straightening, I spin her chair until she’s facing me, my fingers curling under her chin. “Depends how much more of that mouth you think I’m going to tolerate before I put it to better use.”
Her eyes glint. “I’m sure I can handle anything you give me, Mr. Marinov.”
My cock throbs. She doesn’t know who she’s playing with.
I grab a fistful of her hair and lean in, my mouth grazing hers. “Don’t do that, Tessa. You have no idea how close you are to setting me off.”
Her gaze flicks to my hard-on straining against my pants. “I have a pretty good idea.”
I nearly lose all semblance of control, ready to take her bent over this desk. My jaw tightens as I mutter a Russian curse, tearing my hand away from her like it burned me.
“Spreadsheets. I expect them in an hour.”
Then I walk out because if I don’t, I’ll remind her exactly who she’s dealing with, and I won’t be gentle.
EMILIA
The restaurant is quiet and opulent as the hostess leads us to a small table in the corner, the glow of candlelight spreading across the crisp white tablecloth. Konstantin pulls out my chair, eyes dark and unreadable, but the heat simmering beneath them coils between us, thick and electric.
He feels it too. And it’s going to ruin us.
The table is set on a terrace overlooking a lush floral garden, the scent of jasmine and roses drifting in the air. A tiny waterfall ripples in the background as I settle into my seat, his palms stroking down my arms, and I shiver from his touch, my eyes closing for a beat as I let the warmth of his palms sink into my marrow.
“This is a nice place,” I tell him as his fingers drift away and he takes his seat across from me.
“I’m glad you approve.” His smirk could drop the panties off of any woman in the room. “I wouldn’t want you to think I was cheap. It wouldn’t bode well for my reputation.”
Right. Except I already know his true reputation: a psycho in an Armani suit.
Before I can respond, a man in a chef’s coat approaches with a bottle of wine. “Mr. Marinov. Good to see you.”
Konstantin nods, gesturing to me. “This is Tessa, my new assistant.”
