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Then, between one blink and the next, that window slams closed.
“I do not love you.” She pulls her face away, taking a few measured steps back. “I haven’t been sitting around pining for you, Kirill. I’ve been living a life. A happy, fulfilling life.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” she says, crossing her arms and lifting her chin defiantly.
I lean forward, voice low. “Then prove it.”
She frowns. “How would I—”
“Take the job I’m offering you. If you are really, truly over me the way you claim, then taking the job makes sense. The only reason to refuse is because you still have feelings for me.”
“How about because I don’t want to work for a criminal?”
“You’ve already proven twice over that that isn’t a dealbreaker for you. And unlike your previous boss, I keep my crimes out of the house. I’m many steps up from him, if you ask me.”
She stares at me, her mind turning and working on a response. “I don’t need to prove anything to you.”
“You don’t have to,” I concede. “But I already told you I’m not going to be the one to walk away this time. So even if you don’t accept the job, you’ll see me around.”
Her eyes widen. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve decided I’ll be in town indefinitely. We’ll run into each other. I’ll make sure of it. Bars, workplaces. I’m thinking house calls, too. Unannounced, as is your style. I’ll pop in and see where you’re living these days, make sure you don’t have the urge to throw me in your bed and have your way—”
“Fine!”
“Fine what?”
Her jaw clicks back and forth as she tries to force the words out. “I accept the job. I’ll come back and work for you.”
“Are you sure? It could be awkward if you do have feelings for me.” I have to bite back a smile at the rage simmering under her surface.
“I have feelings for you all right,” she grits out. “But none of them resemble love. Quite the opposite, actually.”
“Great. Then you can start tomorrow.”
If looks could kill, the glare Rayne gives me as she walks out of my bathroom would have me six feet under.
The moment she leaves my room, German pushes his way in. “Okay. You’re still clothed,” he observes, looking around the room. “Is that a good thing?”
“Depends who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.”
“Rayne works for me again, so it’s probably a good thing we kept things professional.”
Professional.The term is almost laughable. Nothing between me and Rayne has ever been professional.
German drags a hand down his face. “You hired her again? And she willingly accepted?”
“Willingly…” I shrug. “Again, depends who you ask.”
“But why? The two of you could have been together without this whole maid-and-master charade.”
