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Where no one can hurtus.
Pyotr wraps me in his arms and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Don’t cry for me, Alina. I’m alright.”
“I guess we’re kindred spirits, huh?”
He hugs me a little tighter. I can hear the smile in his voice. “I guess so.”
Somewhere in the room, a phone buzzes. I’m willing to bet it’s Pyotr’s because I frankly have no one to talk to. With a resigned groan, he reaches behind him and fumbles around on the bedside table before retrieving the device. The screen illuminates, casting his features in cold digital light.
“Dammit,” he grumbles, his brows knitting together in a steep scowl.
“Something wrong?”
“I need to head into the office. Work emergency.”
I don’t know why I feel so disappointed when he gets out of bed. I know it’s coming—it’s not like we can stay in bed forever—but is it wrong to want a little more time to bask in the afterglow?
“Does it have to do with what happened at the gala last night?” I ask.
His silence as he gets dressed speaks volumes.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I try again.
“You can help by keeping a low profile,” he says, not unkindly. He comes back to my bedside and presses a single, chaste kiss to my lips. “Stay out of trouble and let me handle this. Take the day, relax. Play some piano. I’ll be back by evening. And if you try to run away again—”
“I’m not going to run away.” I give him a sheepish look. “You’d just come after me.”
He nods, appearing almost amused. “Damn right, I would.”
“Will you at least tell me what’s going on? I don’t like being kept in the dark, Pyotr.”
He sighs. “A couple of the photographers at the party might have snapped a few images of our… altercation with Jones. It’s nothing I can’t handle, though.”
My ears perk up. “Is this why you asked Luka for a media blackout?”
“That’s right.”
“He can do that?”
“Like I said. A genius.” He starts toward the door. Pyotr stops and turns, almost like he’s double checking to make sure I’m really here and not a figment of his imagination. “Be good,” he says with a good-natured chuckle.
For once, I decide not to challenge him.
Chapter 18
Pyotr
What a headache.
The pictures Luka managed to intercept were on their way to TMZ before their files were ‘mysteriously’ corrupted and transferred to me instead. I review the images one by one. They don’t paint Alina or me in a particularly flattering light, what with Richard rolling around on the floor in apparent agony. I don’t know who took these shots of us, but it’s too convenient. Something smells fishy. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Richard planned the whole thing in an attempt to start a smear campaign against me and CyberFort.
To be perfectly honest, I don’t want to be at work today. I’d much rather spend my time at home with Alina. Every time I try to concentrate on an email or a memo Merrybell drafted for me, my thoughts drift back to last night.
It was, in a word,amazing.
I can still smell traces of lavender on my skin. The softness of her body is permanently etched into the back of my brain. It wasn’t my intention to sleep with her last night, but I certainly don’t regret it. I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t occurred to me before. The only reason I tried to keep my distance was because I didn’t want to cross any boundaries and make her feel uncomfortable. It seems all that is officially out of the window, and I’m…
I’m strangely excited.
