His presencerunslike currents of electricity under my skin, the physical knowledge of himtakingup nearly all the space in my brain. The little bit that’s left is overcome by memories from that night—still so fresh itfeelslike days instead of months.
Iamsurprised and a little embarrassed when the meetingisover. I barelyrememberanything thatwassaid, and all hopes of starting this job off on the right footgoout the window.
Istandup with the other two lawyers, and we allshakehands again before weleave. Halfway to the door, trailing behind the two men, my feetseemto stop of their own accord.
“Would you mind if I stay and ask Mr. Smirnov a few more questions about the business before Iget started? Iwantto make sure Ihaveeverything in line before Ibegin.”
John, my boss, turnsback and looks at Dmitri. From the corner of my eye, IseeDmitrinodhis acceptance. Johnsmilesandgivesme a pat on the shoulder. “Hard worker, this one. Icanalready tell.”
From behind me, Iheara low chuckle, a tacit agreement that probablyhasnothing to do with my office work. My assumption is confirmedwhen headds, enthusiastically, “I’m sure.”
Iheave a sigh of relief when the doorcloses,without John or my coworkerlookingback toseethe bright flush on my cheeks.
I wait a moment before I turn on my heel and face the man who gave me the wildest night of my life.
“Did you hire me because you knew who I was?” Idemandin a loud whisper.
Those expressive, heavy browsliftin faint surprise. “I don’t know if you remember, but we did not exchange names or information, norwasI given an image with your resume. All Iknewwasthat you seemed like a damn good lawyer and someone whowouldbenefit my legal team.”
Dmitri, Mr. Smirnov—Idon'tevenknowwhat to call him in my head—isresting back against the desk with his arms crossed over his chest once more, his expression intent. Those ice-blue eyesboreholes into me until Ifeelentirely exposed. My new bossknowsentirely too much about me. Not onlyhasheseenmy resume and my CV, but he alsoknowswhat buttons to push to make me scream and writhe in pleasure.
Idecide to crossmy arms, too, andglareat him. “You tricked me. YouknewIwaslost and in the wrong room, yet you still invited me in and played along.”
Another curve of his lips augments that faint surprise into the barest hint of an amused smile.
He doesn’tanswer at first. Instead, hestraightensto his full height, which, without the blindfold,seemsso much taller.
I’m notexactly short, more on the average side, but he stilltowersover me as hesauntersacross the room, his hands in the pockets of his heather-gray slacks.
Mr. Smirnov is enjoying this.
His smirkgrowsas hestops mere inches from me, the scent of his cologneall-enveloping. His closeness makesmy knees feelweak, as though itissome kind of Pavlovian response.
“Might I remind you that I told you the truth and gave you an out before thingsgottoo far?” Hedoesn’tdeny my accusation, but he doesn’t own it either,dancingaround the subject like heknowsexactly what he’s doing. In fact, we bothknowexactly what he’s doing, especially when heleansforward, his mouth close to my ear, andmurmurs, “Youweremine the second I opened that door.”
Biting my cheekdoesn’t keepme from shivering this time. I shudder at the whisper of his breath across my ear, as the meaningsinks beneath my skin.
“I don’t belong to anybody,” Ihiss,pulling back and meetinghis eyes. “No onehaspower over me.”
“And yet, youremained that night. Even now, by the way youare tryingso desperately not tolookat me—and failing, by the way—and from the color in your cheeks, I’d say thatisn’ttrue, isit, Miss Benson?”
My name on his lips, said in that low rumble and Russian accent,islike a caress. Iclosemy eyes,tryingto block him out, along with the sensations heevokesin me.
“We had one night together,” I say through tightly clenched teeth. “That’s it. It was fun for you, and it was fun for me. I’m not going to deny it.” I open my eyes, my self-assurance renewed. “But that’s all. As I said, no one has power over me.”
He watches me with an amused spark in his eyes, and I know I have to leave before something happens that I will deeply regret.
I take a step away from him. “Well, Mr. Smirnov, it was a pleasure to meet you this morning, and I look forward to working for you in a legal capacity. I know I will be a good fit for this company.”
His predatory smile grows. “Indeed. I believe we’ve already tested that, have we not? I think you fit rather well.” His inappropriate suggestion outrages me as much as it turns me on.
“Thismight bea game to you,” Isnap, “but it’s not to me. Men like you onlywantto play with women.”
The words come out as another hiss; any professional capacity is lost in the hurt that swells from memories and scars that have barely begun to heal.
The change in him is swift. The smile disappears, replaced by a coldness that startles me into taking another step back. But Dmitri’s hand shoots out and grabs my arm, his grip like a vice, and I can’t move.
“Don’t you ever say that to me again.” His voice is like steel, his words dripping with ice and warning. “Do you have any idea how many women throw themselves at me? I could have any one of them. But the only curves I see when I close my eyes are yours.”
