“I expect nothing,” he finally says once he’s thrashed every comeback he had for me into compliance.
Fuck. No!
“And I don’t expect favors for free.” Tipping up my chin, I warn, “Maxim.”
His smile turns smug. “Would you like to know my middle name,pchelka? So you can invoke it when you’re upset with me?”
God, he’s infuriating.
Indulgent.
But I don’t answer him.
Just continue staring at him, forcing him to accept that I want to do this.
That Ihaveto do this.
Women repay their debts.
He concedes with a silken: “I need a date for a gala that’s coming up in my calendar.”
I almost sag with relief.
Toes curling to the point of pain, I refrain.
If anything, I sit taller.
“Will I need gems?”
“Yes. I will furnish you with those.” His gaze drops to,I hope,my tits.“Anda dress.”
“Don’t trust me to pick my own?”
A nerve flicks in his jaw but he ignores my taunt. “There will be… repercussions for being seen in public with me.”
“And?”
Shaking his head, he brushes more shaving cream over his chin and jaw.
Intrigued, wondering how that would feel against my cheeks, how velvety his kiss would be, I lose track of our conversation.
Then freeze when his eyes lock on mine in the mirror.
Immediately, I shift to study the sharp but smooth strokes of the blade against his skin.
How he angles his head for better precision.
The sound of his breathing, unhurried and calm…
Lulled by his presence, I relax. But then, I’ve always found him to be refreshing. He doesn’t smother like my family does. He’s justthere. A safety net.
When he’s done, I watch him towel off the foam remnants and rinse down the razor.
I’ve only ever seen him in suits before. To catch a glimpse of him in that martial arts uniform, then naked, and now in underwear, is a slice of intimacy I didn’t think he’d give me.
At least, not tonight.
He opens a door off the bathroom that reveals a large closet. Still uninterested in privacy, he faces me as he dresses in a pair of pants, buckles a belt on, then drags on a shirt.
