Page 25 of The Tsar's Obsession
“Because you’re my client.” She waved a noncommittal hand my way, and I had no doubts that she was lying. “And I don’t date clients because it becomes a mess. And I don’t likemess.” She added with meaning.
“You’re lying.” I took a step closer, and she backed away, panic flaring up in all of her. She averted her gaze, her chest rising and falling with her quick breaths, like she was trying to figure out how to defend herself.
Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something else, maybe the truth. But she swallowed it down, shaking her head instead.
In a flash, her words echoed in my mind:I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. I don’t believe in love. In anything real. There’s no such thing.She’d been hurt, and she was too scared to open up her heart again.
Mia stayed quiet, her worried eyes meeting mine once more, so I made the decision for us both. “That charity gala at the Met? In two weeks. Your whole office is coming. I made sure to seat you at my table. And that can be like our practice run. Okay?”
I fucking dared—I reached over and tucked a loose strand of that soft hair behind her ear, her whole body shivering at the touch. “Okay?” I double-checked, my fingers burning from the contact with her skin.
“You’re relentless.” Her whisper was so close, I merely had to lean in an inch, and I would taste heaven.
“I am. I’ll send you something I want you to wear.”
I forced my feet to move, but not before I let my gaze trace over her one last time. Over those candy cane shorts. Over my hoodie, hugging her in a way that was still out of reach to me.
11
A Situation
Mia
Thediamondnecklaceshimmeredbetween my clammy fingers in the afternoon light. This was thesomethingKirill wanted me to wear to the charity gala coming up in a week.
He asked me out on a date. Adate.There was no denying anything, and that knowledge was only amplified as I stared at the stones in my hand. They werelarge.This wasn’t delicate, minimalist, or small; no, this was a damn statement piece. Round, brilliant stones reflected the light, hypnotizing me.
Fuck, I was doomed. Not one man had ever gifted me anything of the sort.
The phone rang, and my throat tensed as if forbidding me from speaking. What was I going to tell him? Thank you? Thank you for the diamond necklace that looks like it was stolen from the Tower of London? Was the queen planning to wear this at her next royal event?
“Sunshine?” He picked up on the first ring.
He started calling me that, and I didn’t object. Like everything with him, I accepted his actions and words, unable to stop myself, falling into him, like falling into honey.
But that’s exactly what he was—honey. Sweet, delicious, soft, smooth, and sticky. I was stuck on him, like a butterfly that fell into a jar of honey. Once free and not committed to anythingor anyone, my mind was now fixated on him.
“Kirill.” I cleared my throat, utterly lost for words. “This…this is a lot.”
“Do you like it?” His voice was deep, the satisfaction practically seeping through the phone.
I hesitated, my fingers playing with the weighty stones as I considered how to move forward with this conversation. "It’s– Kirill, it’s adiamondnecklace that probably costs more than my apartment. Liking it isn’t the issue."
"I think it will look great with whatever you plan to wear."
“Bold of you to assume I was planning to wear anything.” I tried to joke but cringed at my own words. I couldn’t fucking stop myself.
“Oh? That’s perfect, wear just the necklace. That’s how I want to see it on you anyway.”
Oh, dear baby Jesus, he was way better at this game than me. I brushed past his last words, ignoring the little tremble inside me. “Kirill, you can’t just gift me something like this; it’s too much.” But that’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him that I knew this was intimate. Thismeantsomething.
I was going to lose the battle soon. I was going to fold. My whole no-fuck zone lifestyle would burn into a pile of smoking ashes.
“It’s not too much at all. It will look beautiful on you. I want to enjoy you wearing it when you sit beside me on Saturday.”
This was– this was…I couldn’t do this. There was an ache between my legs from his voice and his words.I want to enjoy you.
“Kirill…” This was my last pathetic attempt to reject this, to assure myself that nothing was happening between us, that I would escape it all unscathed.
