Page 38 of Crimson Oath
“Trust me, it has been suggested.”
“So why not indulge?” He leaned forward. “Do you miss me?”
Now she wished shehadslept with Arosh just to keep the smug expression from his face.
Ugh. No. She didn’t want to sleep with anyone.
Except Oleg.
That irritating voice in her mind could shut the hell up.
“Taking a lover isn’t high on my list of priorities right now,” Tatyana said. “I’ve learned much in Arosh’s court.”
“Maybe, but it’s not where you belong.”
“And wheredoI belong?”
“With me,” he said. “In my organization.”
Tatyana blinked but said nothing.
“Let us be practical.” Oleg leaned back and ran his fingers along the edge of the table. “Elene told me before she died that she wanted to hire you. She said you are brilliant, and I do not disagree. Amnis will have only improved your mind; you would be a tremendous asset to the Sokolov organization.”
Whatever strong-arming she’d expected from Oleg, she hadn’t expected him to offer her a job.
“Come back to Odesa,” Oleg said softly. “Whatever is between us, we have time to explore it. I have no desire to rush… whatever this might be.” He reached across the table, and the tips of his fingers stroked along the back of her hand.
There was an instant rush of desire, a feeling of comfort and peace.
Tatyana pulled her hand away. “Don’t use your amnis on me.”
“I’m not using amnis on you. I can’t do that now that you’re a vampire, remember?”
“You do something to me,” she whispered. “Don’t pretend you don’t.”
Oleg pulled his hand back, but he leaned forward and dropped his voice. “Whatever effect you might feel, it is coming from you as much as me.”
“No.” She refused to admit how much she wanted him.
She wanted to crawl into his lap, curl up with his arms around her, and sniff his neck.
He smelled of incense and cedar.
He smelled like her grandfather’s smokehouse.
He smelled like home.
“Tatyana.” Oleg’s voice was soft and tempting. “Come back withme. Tonight. We can be in my home in Tbilisi by dawn. We can be back in Odesa tomorrow night. Or at your mother’s farm. You know she misses you.”
“Don’t.” She raised a hand. “Don’t use my mother in this.”
“I’ve been taking care of her and?—”
“She doesn’t need you to take care of her.” Tatyana felt her temper rise. “Iam taking care of her. She needs you to leave her alone.”
“So she can grow old without her daughter?” Oleg’s voice grew harder. “So she can putter around her farm with her birds and her cat and her dog, with no family to comfort her? No company save for the trees and the ocean? What kind of life?—”
“Don’t talk to me aboutlife,” she hissed. “Because no matter what gifts you give my mother or what promises you make to me, you and I both know thatyouare the reason that I no longer have mine. You are the reason she will never have grandchildren. That every hope she had for my future has turned to ash.”
