Page 2 of Savored Innocence

“Hanna, the last time I bumped into him, he was rude. Overly rude, and arrogant.” I clench my hand on my desk.

“At Julianna’s christening?”

“No. I saw him a few months ago, here in Boston. I was on a date, and he completely ruined it.” It had been the first and last date with Logan, the contractor I’d met through a co-worker. “It was embarrassing.”

“What did he do?”

“Scared the hell out of my date. I mean, Logan held his own pretty well considering how terrifying Roman can look when he’s irritated. And he was irritated.”

“Why?”

“How should I know? I didn’t bother asking. I got him to go away, but not before Logan got cold feet about being involved with me.” I’m not sure if it was Roman’s knack for taking up all the space in the room when he’s in it, or the black and red tattoos sprawled across his hands and knuckles. Either way, it was a quick date—and the last.

“When you first met him, you thought he was nice enough.”

“Because he was then. He let me stay at his condo while you and Gregor were figuring things out. And when you left Boston, he helped me get moved into a new apartment. He was nice.” He even made sure I had his number in case I needed anything, and he took mine. Then he never called.

“I haven’t seen him much over the past two years, but I know there’s been trouble with his father. Igor moved back to Russia a while ago.”

“Roman’s the oldest of his brothers, right? Doesn’t that mean he’s in charge now?”

“Roman wouldn’t do anything to put you in danger,” she says firmly before I can even take us down the road of what it means for Roman to be the head of the Romanov family here in the States.

“It’s just another reason for me to keep my distance.” It’s the right thing to do. Roman would never be able to give me the sort of relationship I crave. No matter how desperately handsome he is, or how insanely attracted I am to him. I don’t do well in the sort of relationship I’m sure he’s used to.

“Damn. Julianna’s up from her nap. I’m gonna cut this short. Call me tomorrow, though? Let me know if you’ve talked with him.”

“Why would I talk with him, Hanna?” My alarm bells go off. “Hanna. Did you tell him I work here?”

“I might have mentioned something. I really do have to go, love you, bye!” She hangs up before I can threaten her life for putting the bug in his ear.

Growling, I drop my phone onto my desk. If he knows I work here, he’ll probably stop to say hello. And I’m not sure I can handle a conversation with him. All it will do is stir up my own attraction to him and leave me wanting and annoyed the rest of the day because Roman Romanov is not for me.

I need a place to hide, and I could use a cup of coffee, so I grab my empty mug thinking to stash myself in the staff lounge. There wouldn’t be any reason for him to go in there, and I’ll keep my door shut so he’ll think I’m just not in the office today. It could work.

If he decides to come looking for me. Which he might not anyway. Because, even if he did get all protective and arrogant when he saw me on my date with Logan, that doesn’t mean he wants me for himself. It just meant he was looking out for his cousin’s wife’s best friend.

A completely normal thing for a Russian mobster to do.

Sure that I’m in the clear, I swing open my office door ready to march down to the lounge only to find Jamison Masters with his hand raised ready to either knock or open the door.

“Oh! Good. You’re here.” Jamison grins. His pencil-thin mustache flickers when he speaks. “I thought maybe you weren’t in today; your door is never closed.”

“No. I’m here.” My gaze flips behind him and my insides freeze. Roman stands there, an arrogant smile firmly planted on his lips. He’s dressed in a full business suit, but even with the professional garb, I can see the tattoos peeking out of his collar and climbing up his neck. Even with his hair slicked back and his beard neatly trimmed, he oozes danger.

“Well, good. Let’s go in your office. I have a new account for you. This is Roman Romanov, but I think you’ve met him before?” He steps forward, making me move out of his way so he can enter my office, leaving me to stand right in front of Roman.

I steel my gaze and meet his dark stare.

“Yes, we’ve met,” I manage to say.

Roman lifts his eyebrow. “Let’s have a talk, Billie.” He gestures for me to follow my boss into my office. “It seems we’re going to be working together.”

“Over my dead body,” I mutter beneath my breath, but from the arch of his brow, I’m sure he heard me.

I can’t work with him.

I won’t work with him.

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