Page 38 of Charmingly Obsessed
The hallways of Frez Enterprises are a brightly lit labyrinth.
Usually, the cool, clean light is invigorating. Today, it stings my eyes, each photon a tiny needle. I’m hunting. Prowling.
They’ve probably already shown her the damn terrace.“As an artist, pani Bilova, you’ll appreciate the panoramic city views. Best at night, of course, when the lights glitter like fallen stars…”Fucking corporate bullshit.
I pivot, heading towards the admin bullpen. Empty. Of course. I’ll find the girls – Karina, Aisana. They’ll know where she is. My new marketing designer. My Diana.
If they’ve already taken her through the west wing, then Reznikov is there. And Reznikov looks at women like they’re appetizers on an all-you-can-eat buffet. The thought of his leering gaze on her makes my blood boil. I should have been theone to show her around. Controlled environment. Me. Her. No Reznikov.
Finally. Aisana. A flurry of words. Kitchen. Boiling water. Lid. Repairman. Something about a prank for the newbie tonight. A prank? For Diana?
“What prank?” I demand, my voice sharper than I intend.
“You’re in on it too!” Aisana laughs, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. “Hugh will fill you in. He’s right over there, by the…”
I don’t give a flying fuck about Hugh or his goddamn pranks. The only word that registers is kitchen. Because she’s there.
I spin on my heel, my steps no longer my own, pulled by an invisible, irresistible tether. My mind races, a chaotic jumble of thoughts.
Why did she take her paintings off the market? The ones I just publicly eviscerated. I’ll buy them all. Every single one. They’re… touching. Sweet. Deliberately childlike. Vulnerable. God, I’m a fucking idiot.
Rounding the corner into the brightly lit, stainless-steel expanse of the communal kitchen, I nearly collide with Aisana again. My social graces, usually so polished, so effortless, have completely deserted me. I can talk to women. I excel at talking to women. This… this Diana-induced paralysis has only happened once before. Earlier today. In that goddamn conference room.
It was nothing, I tell myself fiercely. Just an awkward conversation. A misunderstanding. No one will even remember it by tomorrow. A minor hiccup. I’ll fix it. The paintings. I’ll buy them at an exorbitant price. I’ll apologize. Grovel, if necessary. I’ll turn this whole goddamn disaster around. Diana… she seems cold, yes, but human connection? That’s my strongest suit. My superpower.
Aisana is still chattering about the prank, something about Hugh. I nod vaguely. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except the slender silhouette I finally spot at the far end of the kitchen.
My heart doesn’t just drop to my feet. It plummets through the goddamn floor, through thirty-four stories of reinforced concrete, and slams into the bedrock of Kyiv.
Diana. Standing by the industrial-grade coffee machine. Alone. Her back to me.
She exhales sharply, a small, startled sound, as she senses my presence, turning slightly.
Her hand flies to her chest, pressed against the white blouse that does little to conceal the delicate swell of her breasts.
“I just wanted to add… welcome to the company,” I say, my voice rough, strangled.
Blue-gray. Her eyes. That’s the color. And she smells… Christ, she smells like apple pie. Warm. Sweet. With a hint of vanilla.
She says nothing. Just looks at me with those wide, unreadable eyes. I say nothing. Just look back, drowning in them.
And then, a strange, almost serene clarity washes over me. As if all my churning thoughts, all my anxieties, all the roaring chaos inside my head, have suddenly collapsed into a single, focused point.Her.I’m going to kiss her. Right here. Right now. And she’ll understand everything. The misunderstanding, my idiocy, this… this consuming, terrifying need I have for her. It’ll all be resolved in an instant. In that one, perfect kiss.
This isn’t a conversation for words. This is for bodies. For souls.
Her skin is soft. Impossibly soft. I’m ashamed of the way my hand trembles as I reach out, my fingers brushing her cheek. She looks shocked, her eyes widening further, but then… then she rises onto her toes, just slightly. Leaning into my touch.
I kiss her.
It’s clumsy. Awkward. A fumbling collision of hungry, desperate tenderness and untamed persistence. She doesn’t respond immediately. In this swirling vortex of sensation, there’s no gravity. No up, no down. I struggle to stay on my feet, to hold her, to keep us both from crashing to the floor. It takes every ounce of my strength, every shred of my rapidly dissolving control. My fingers tangle in her silky, golden-brown hair, and I’m lost… because I realize, with a sudden, sickening lurch, that I know nothing. Nothing about her. Nothing aboutthis. I have to learn everything from scratch.
But I will. God damn it, I will. I’ll learn all her weaknesses, all her intricacies, all her hidden desires. And then… then I’ll kiss her in a way that steals her breath, her thoughts, her very soul.
She pushes me away. Her hands are uncertain, trembling against my chest, but the rejection is clear.
And Christ, she’s beautiful. Even now. Especially now. Flushed, startled, her eyes finally, finally expressive. Alive. And filled with… confusion? Fear?
The sound of laughter, loud and obnoxious, erupts from the doorway behind us. It feels distant, muffled, like it’s coming from another planet. The only thing in focus is Diana. Her face. Her eyes. The way her lips are still damp, slightly swollen from my kiss.
