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“Yes, we’re done. You’re a natural. The pictures are unbelievable.”

He waved Ven to come over so they could preview the camera roll. Shit, like he needed another reason to drool. The damn ved’ma had spellbound him since she’d finished with hair and make-up. She entered the dressing room and then exited as if she’d waved her wand and cast a glamour spell. Because what came out of the room was a sizzling seductress, a sex pot designed with no purpose other than bringing a man to his knees. And he was only a man, after all. He braced his knees together to keep from falling to them as she slid to the edge of the bed and stood up. It had been Rurik’s idea to take pictures of her in the bridal suite. “You’ve got that oversized circle bed. Put it in white silk and drape her in red satin. She’ll be a valentine come to life.” He couldn’t know possibly know how right he was. He was a master strategist, not a psychic. Now that he’d seen her draped across the bed, how would he ever un-see it? She stepped down from the platform in her red stiletto heels. The shoes were little more than soles, with tiny silver straps tying them to the tops of her feet. Wrapping around her ankles and traveling up her calves like long leather fingers groping her legs. The dress flowed to the ankles with thigh-high slits that mocked any hint of modesty. He’d never seen a more fuckable woman. He wanted to rut in her like an animal. Grinding into her pussy and fucking the ever-loving shit out of her. Crew or no crew.

“We’re done.” He nodded to the door. She needed to leave the room while he still retained some control. “You can change.”

“Thank God.” She grinned. Dimples peeked out from the sides of her face. Motherfucking dimples. A sprite dressed up as a nymphet. A girl role-playing in her mother’s dress and lipstick. But she wasn’t a child.

“Go. Change,” he growled, harsher than he’d intended. But he couldn’t stay in control and be fucking polite.

The dimples disappeared, and she ducked her head. “Be right back.” Her voice trailed away as she left. Missing the way every man in the room had frozen when she swished out of the room. Her dress clinging to her plump ass like a mermaid’s tail.

He turned to the crew, who busied themselves. Packing up their supplies and paying closer attention to equipment. Spurred into action by his glare. He’d never wanted to burn the eyes out of someone’s socket more.

* * *

An hour later, the suite was empty, and her magic wand had turned her back into a beautiful young woman. She picked up the pizza from her delicate China plate and bit a piece of heaven. It was his favorite, deep-dish Chicago style. She sighed around the mouthful, and he smiled. He’d had the same reaction to his first bite.

“It’s so good.” She pursed out her lips, puffing her cheeks. Waving her hand in front of her mouth. “It’s hot, though.”

“Take your time,” he reprimanded her like a child and then narrowed his eyes. She was not a child.

Sasha downed some of the sparkling cider he’d poured into her wineglass. She laughed, “Cider?”

“I didn’t want to corrupt you.”

“Too late.”

She ate like a starving person. No dainty nibbles. She took a bite big enough for a linebacker and chewed with enthusiasm. Mixing her bites of the deep-dish pizza with equal bites of the Caesar salad with anchovies. He’d offered to put the salty treats on the side, but she took the bowl and dumped them on top before mixing the salad. “Why? If I enjoy it and you do too… Then I don’t see anything wrong with taking what we both want.”

She’d been too busy dumping and mixing to see the effect her casual words had erected. Literally. How true. Why not, indeed?

Her tongue swiped an errant morsel from her plump lips. The bows formed soft pillows, but he didn’t want them soft. He wanted them stretched and firm, holding onto his dick. He shook his head. Taking another bite into his own pizza. She was bait. He didn’t have to love it or hate it. If Rurik said she was bait, she was bait. It wasn’t like she was his. Could never be his. Not with his father’s latest decree and plans already in motion. Adding one more responsibility and another loop to his noose.

He sighed and balled the napkin in his lap. Throwing the fine white linen on top of the sauce-stained plate. And balling his fingers into fists.

“Why are you doing this?” He threw the words at her. And she jumped. Snatching her attention from her food to him. Where it belonged.

“Huh?”

“You’re young and bright. You’ve been able to keep up with me on conversations from sports to politics. With your brain, wit, and charm, you could own Vegas. But instead of working hard. Fighting your way up, like everybody else. You’re using the one thing anyone could use. Every cat in the street knows how to give away pussy.”

Her eyes narrowed. Lashes nearly as long as the fake ones she’d worn shielded her eyes. She took another sip of her cider before placing it down with a snick that even the linen tablecloth didn’t muffle. When her eyes finally met his, they were armed for battle. “Is that what you did? You went to college, hung out with the frat boys, and made out with a few cheerleaders before grad school. You completed the application and internship process, moving from the mailroom to the boardroom. Is that what you did? Ismailov?”

She sneered his name. No one mocked his name. Not to his face. He might be a dirty word in many circles, and whispers abounded but never to an Ismailov’s face. He glared back at her. A mere wisp of a girl who’d been lower than a valet in the casino hierarchy. “No, I didn’t work my way up—”

“No, you didn’t. Your family handed you everything you have. You sit here with your wealth and privilege from your king of the castle penthouse and condemn me for being a peasant. A peasant who dares to better herself.”

“That is not true.”

She arched her brow when he stuttered to a stop. It was only a little true. “Watch out, Ismailov. I took your mean boy bullshit last time. Left here and cried like a baby. But that won’t happen again.”

The nerve of this fucking girl. He balled his fists even tighter. Wishing he had a pencil to snap between them. Or a steel pipe. Or her neck.

“You know nothing about me…”

“No, I didn’t. Not really. But when I left here three days ago, I corrected that. Immediately.”

“So, you think you know me because of some information you found on a Wikipedia page?”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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