Page 184 of Sexting His Assistant

I search his face. “Then who?”

Roman’s hand at my waist tightens just slightly, not enough to hurt, only enough to guide me through a turn so his mouth is closer to my ear.

“There are eyes everywhere tonight,” he says. “Some belong to Luka. Some don’t.”

I look over his shoulder. I can see Luka now.

He’s turned. He’s looking directly at us.

Even from across the room, I feel the force of his attention.

His face is calm, but I know better now.

Roman notices the change in me. “He sees us.”

I need to get away from him. I need to go to Luka. I need to call Misha. I need to do ten things at once and none of them can happen while this man is holding my hand.

“Why should I believe you?” I ask.

“You shouldn’t.”

That catches me off guard. “But you may ask your brother about me.”

“He won’t tell me.”

“He might, if you ask the right question.”

“And what question is that?”

People around us begin clapping politely. Roman steps back at the proper distance and bows his head just enough to make the whole thing look harmless.

Then, with a movement so smooth I almost miss it, he slips a small card into the side pocket of my purse.

I stiffen.

“Call when you are alone,” he says.

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

“You’re very confident.”

“No,” he says. “I’m counting on you being curious and frightened. Those are better than confidence.”

I glare at him. He looks past me again.

Luka’s already walking toward us.

My hand tightens around my purse.

Roman steps back into the crowd, smile polite, posture relaxed, and within seconds he is no longer alone. Two men close around him casually, making it impossible for me to follow without looking insane.

I stand at the edge of the dance floor, heart pounding.

Luka reaches me a moment later.

His eyes are on my face first, then my hands, then the direction Roman walked.