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I would be well within my rights to retaliate for his actions, and nothing would soothe me more than to plant my fist in this mammoth of an asshole’s mouth. But without knowing it, he’s helped me with my Billie problem. It’s the only reason he’s still upright.
“I’m going to take my fiancée home,” I say. Maxim reenters the room but stays near the door. “We can discuss possible terms later.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind waiting for you while we talk business,” Yefim says.
“I’m taking her home.” I turn on my heel, giving them my back, and march to the door. As I turn the knob, I hear Yefim murmuring angrily toward his nephew. As far as he knows the entire deal could be in jeopardy.
Billie is standing in the middle of the room wringing her hands when I enter the private suite and shut the door. Her eyes are wide and worried when she drags them up to mine.
“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. I swear, I didn’t know you were even here. And Giselle is the one who said it, I just didn’t correct her,” she rambles.
I put my hand up to stop her. It’s still possible for the Kozlov family to overhear us, and I can’t risk them finding out this was all a farce.
I take steady steps across the floor until I’m directly in front of her. Pushing her hands down with one hand, I brush her hair back from her face with the other hand.
“You have no idea what your little lie just started,” I say softly. “But we aren’t going to talk about it here. We’ll talk about it at home.” I go to the closet and pull out my coat.
“Giselle is here, Roman. I’ll just go back down—”
“I already said she’ll get home.” I wrap my coat around her shoulders and lean down to her ear. “And you don’t call me Roman anymore,malyshka.” I move around her and work the top buttons of the coat closed while she wiggles her arms into the overly long sleeves.
I finish buttoning her up and take a look at her. She’s drowning in the coat, but she’ll be warm.
“If I can’t call you Roman, what do you want me to call you? Mr. Romanov?” She’s trying to be snarky, but I can already see the blush on her cheeks.
“No.” I brush my lips across her cheek and whisper into her ear, “From now on, you’ll call me Daddy.”
Billie
My mind hasn’t stopped spiralingsince Roman put me in the backseat of his SUV. He buckled my seatbelt for me, then climbed into the front passenger seat. I have no idea who’s driving.
Daddy.
I press my face against the cold glass of the window, trying to cool the inferno that is my cheeks. I’d been careful around him, hadn’t I?
How does he know?
“Where are we going?” We’re nowhere near my apartment.
“Home,” Roman says as he’s typing away on his cell phone.
“Home is the other direction,” I argue.
He stops typing and looks over his shoulder at me. With his dark eyebrows arched and his entire expression hard, I shrink back slightly in the seat.
“My fiancée stays with me, at least for the weekend.” He turns back around. “Sit nice, you’ll have a chance to explain everything once we get home,malyshka.”
I know I shouldn’t, but I ask anyway. “What does that mean? That word you keep using?”
He turns around again. “It means baby girl.”
And the flames ignite once again on my cheeks.
“That’s not an appropriate nickname for someone that works for you,” I point out.
“It’s the perfect nickname for you,” he insists. “We’re almost home.”
“It’s not my home.” I try to fold my arms over my chest, but all the extra material of his damn coat gets in the way. And the heat is blowing too hard back here.
