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Which means he can definitely see us, too.
“Shit!” I push Misha off me and try to adjust my clothes so I look presentable again. “Do you think there’s a chance that nobody heard us?”
Misha just smirks. “No chance whatsoever.”
“Oh, God.” I fall onto the sofa and cover my face with my hands. When I peek through my fingers, I see him watching me, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You know,” I venture, “if you let me out of the tower, we can have this same kind of fun in the office when we’re supposed to be working.”
The steel in those silver eyes begin to melt. He drops his chin to his chest. “Fuck.”
That’s how I know I’ve won this one.
33
MISHA
Even as we drive to Orion together, I’m not sure exactly how my wife managed to talk me into this.
But here we are.
Paige is wearing a red power suit that screams “boss bitch.” Her words, not mine. The material hugs the soft swell of my children inside of her.
I have never been prouder.
Or more on edge.
“Stop looking so worried.” Paige puts her hand on my knee. “Everything will be fine.”
“He’s going to know before the sun goes down that you’re alive.”
“Which means he’s going to know that he can’t touch either of us,” she says smugly. “He’s going to know he can’t mess with you.”
“Or he’s going to try harder.”
“I know you, Misha. I may be out of the house, but let’s be honest—I’m being monitored. Every step I take is going to be recorded in some security guard’s notes.”
I smirk, because she’s not wrong. “I think this is what we call a compromise.”
She sighs, but she doesn’t argue. I have a feeling I might get some pushback when she sees just how many safety measures I’ve taken in preparation for her assimilation back into everyday life. But I’m not going to budge on any of them. Not even the promise of her sweet pussy can convince me otherwise.
(Though I’m willing to let her try.)
When the car stops, she doesn’t wait for me to walk around to her door before she climbs out. She doesn’t even wait for me to escort her up the front steps and through the lobby. Paige keeps a half step ahead of me, her head held high, her shoulders held back.
One thing is for sure—the woman knows how to make an entrance.
We drop quite a few jaws as we head to the elevators, offering no explanations and not talking to a single soul. Neither of us speaks until we’re behind the closed doors of Paige’s office.
“Wow,” she squeals. “That was awesome!”
I want to temper her enthusiasm. But I can’t help smiling at the same time. She looks like a child on Christmas morning.
“Did you see their faces?” she continues. “And that’s just our employees. Think of Petyr’s face when he realizes that I’m still alive!”
That gives me mixed emotions. I love the idea of pulling one over on the motherfucker who killed my brother. But I don’t relish what he’ll do when he finds out.
She stops suddenly and pirouettes on the spot, surveying her office room with new eyes. “Is that a new desk?”
“Brand new. Japanese. Handmade.”
