Page 33 of His Demands

He smirks, a playful glint in his eye. "Try to leave at least one room set aside. For activities."

I laugh, shaking my head at his cheekiness. "You're incorrigible."

He steps closer, his presence suddenly filling the room. "But you like it," he speaks, his voice low.

I can't argue with that. Stepping into his arms, I tilt my head up to meet his kiss. The house, the future, the possibilities, all of it fades into the background as we lose ourselves in each other, right there in the middle of our big, empty living room that's just waiting to be filled with life.

Two weeks pass in a whirlwind of activity, and Ivan's once-empty house is transformed into a warm, inviting home. The living room now boasts a large comfy sectional sofa in a soft cream color, accented with vibrant throw pillows. A sleek, modern coffee table sits in the center, surrounded by lush indoor plants that bring a touch of nature inside. Abstract art adorns the walls, adding splashes of color and personality to the space.

The dining room is equally transformed, with a long, elegant table made of dark wood, surrounded by high-back chairs upholstered in a rich, royal blue. Above the table hangs a statement chandelier that casts a warm, inviting glow over the room.

In the kitchen, I've added small touches that make it feel more lived-in—a bowl of fresh fruit on the marble countertop, a set of stylish canisters for coffee and tea, and a couple of cookbooks displayed on a stand.

Ivan walks through the house, taking in all the changes. His initial hesitation has given way to genuine appreciation. "You've done a remarkable job, Julie," he says, his eyes scanning the place. "It feels like a home now."

I beam with pride, pleased with his reaction. "I'm glad you like it. It's been fun adding a bit of... well, me, to the place."

He nods, a smile tugging at his lips. " You've managed to make this place warm and inviting. It's a pleasant change."

Our relationship has undergone its own transformation, as well. Mutual respect and attraction have blossomed into something deeper, something that feels a lot like the beginnings of real affection. Yet, there's a part of Ivan that's holding back, focusing more on the physical aspect of our connection.

At work the next day, the reality of our professional relationship comes back into focus. Ivan has scheduled interviews for a new assistant, and while I know it's part of our agreement, I can't help feeling a twinge of reluctance at the thought of leaving my position.

In his office, Ivan looks over the resumes with a furrowed brow. "I've got three interviews lined up today," he says, sounding less than enthused. "But honestly, none of them seem quite right."

I lean against the doorframe, watching him. "You never know, one of them might surprise you."

He glances up, meeting my eyes. "I made you a promise to find a replacement. And I intend to keep it. But" he pauses, a hint of something unexpressed in his gaze, "I've grown accustomed to having you around. More than accustomed, actually."

I smile, a warm feeling spreading through me. "Well, whoever you hire will have big shoes to fill. But I'm not going anywhere just yet. I'll make sure they're up to speed before I step back."

Ivan nods, a look of gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, Julie. That means a lot."

The air between us goes silent with unspoken words, a shared understanding of the unique dynamic we've built. As I turn to leave, Ivan calls out, "Julie?"

I look back, waiting.

He stands, crossing the room and stopping in front of me. "I just wanted to say I'm glad you're here. In every sense."

The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard, and for a moment, I'm speechless. Then, with a playful smile I reply, "Well, get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."

Chapter 21

Ivan

Checking my watch, I note there's some time before the interviews begin. On a whim, I decide to ask Julie to lunch. It's a small break from routine, but these small changes are bringing unexpected happiness.

I find her at her desk, absorbed in paperwork. "Julie," I say, leaning casually against the doorway, "how about joining me for lunch?"

She looks up, feigned surprise on her face as she rises. "Ivan Stepanov taking a lunch break instead of wolfing down a sandwich at his laptop? That's a first."

Julie picks a deli with a charming patio, a spot that exudes a relaxed atmosphere, a stark contrast to the usual stiff, formal dining settings I'm accustomed to. We settle at a table under an umbrella, the hum of the city around us a pleasant backdrop. She orders for both of us, her choices reflecting a casual ease I find refreshing.

As we wait for our food, Julie pulls out files from her bag, her efficiency on full display.

"Alright, let's see who we have lined up for today," she begins, her tone business-like but with an underlying warmth. "First, we have Martin Anders. He's got a solid background in corporate management, worked with some big names. Impressive on paper, but I have a feeling he might be a bit too assertive for your taste."

I lean back, listening, watching her. She knows me well, perhaps too well. The way she can predict my reactions, understand my preferences, is almost uncanny.

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