Page 24 of Wrapped in Perfection

Dmitri leadsme to a guest suite and sets my bag on the bed. He pauses, and my flutters take off. All day he's been looking at me with this confident expression. His gaze lingers on my different body parts as if he's undressing me. If anyone else did it, I'd think they were a sleazy pervert. I would be self-conscious about the size of my body, hearing Mitch call me fat. But Dmitri's eyes make me feel hot. He hasn't done anything inappropriate, but his expression tells me he wants to. And it makes me borderline desperate for him to do whatever he wants to me.

Even before Mitch stopped paying attention to me, he never looked at me the way Dmitri does. I've been trying to be professional and not squirm all day around him. And I can't stop staring at his lips. He's caught me several times, and a cocky expression forms on his face. But instead of kissing me, he always backs away.

Being at his house doesn't help my current attraction to him. Everything about it reeks sexy bachelor. Slate-gray walls, mixed with black leather furniture, dark woods, and soft light, seamlessly flow throughout the penthouse. The backdrop of the lake, with the waves crashing against the shore, only makes me wonder more what it would be like to have him crashing against me.

"Take your time, kotik." He winks and leaves.

I release the breath I was holding. The same view of the water is in the bedroom. Soft, Russian music comes across the surround sound, increasing my nerves and throbbing body parts simultaneously.

How much effort should I put in?

He's a client. Don't give him any reason to think there could be anything more.

I remove my dress from the bag, happy there aren't any wrinkles. I take out my shoes and stare at the makeup and curling iron.

Against my better judgment, I go all out. I look in his drawers and find a pack of razors, shaving cream, toothbrush, toothpaste. I tie my hair in a knot, take a shower, and even though I shaved earlier, I shave again.

When I finish my shower, I spend an hour on my hair and makeup, then slip my red dress and black stilettos on.

My phone rings.

"Hey, Vivian."

"How's it going with Dmitri?" Her question sounds innocent, but I know what she's really asking me.

"Fine. I got the job."

"Of course you did. You're brilliantly talented."

My family always tells me I am. Mitch never really raved about my skills and always dropped comments about it being a glorified hobby and taking time away from him. So I always thought my family was telling me that to be nice. But now that Dmitri hired me and made me charge what his designer was, I'm not sure what to think.

"Ummm...he made me change my rates," I blurt out.

Her voice lowers. "What do you mean?"

"He showed me his other designer's contract."

"She is always in demand. She's good." Her voice changes to worry. "But what did he make you do with your contract? You already are undercharging, and I've told you this several times."

"I feel guilty," I admit.

"Why? I'm not following?"

"He made me write in her rates."

Silence fills the line.

"Vivian? Are you still there?"

She clears her throat. "I only know Dmitri a little. He's been generous with my foundation, and we've done some real estate transactions before. One thing I know about him is if he can skin a snake to get out more blood, he will. But if he believes in you, he won't let anyone take advantage of you, including him. I've seen both sides of him."

My heart beats faster. "But, he's not seen my work yet."

"Then you said or did something to make him think you're worth it. And you are, Anna. So I wouldn't feel guilty or second-guess it. Your work is amazing. You're going to rock his project."

I stay quiet.

"Are you still there?" Vivian asks.

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