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“Tell me you at least ate a sandwich?” I poke at them both, and they each nod, grins filling in on their faces. The shop was only a few blocks from the office, and I opted to walk, naturally forcing both of them as well. I inhale the crisp fall air and motion to them, my head pointing down the sidewalk. The air expands in my lungs, and I relish the coolness on my nose, pulling up my scarf over my chin.
A few more steps, and I’m jostled back as a man in a black suit coat blocks my path. I’m able to right myself and mumble out an apology.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.”
The man, probably around Luka’s age, tips his head and smiles, then slips around me, walking on.
“It’s not a problem, Ms. Castile.”
I blink.Did he—I turn to get a better look, but I’m met by both guards.
“You okay?” Dmitry asks, scanning me from head to toe.
“I’m fine, but he called me by name.” A shiver skirts down my back, and I pull my coat closed. Dmitry frowns at the other guard, and they do a brief scan before pulling out their phones. They flank either side of me, and we press on to the office.
When I’m escorted out of the elevator at Luka’s office, Natallia shoots me a look.
“He wants you inside, immediately.”
My eyes roll at the thought of Luka getting angry with me for running into someone. I dump my coat and scarf in the small area Luka cut out for me next to Natallia. It’s a small desk, not suitable for much other than computer work, but it’s mine, nonetheless. I’ve made it my own with a small photo of my dad and an air plant to decorate the space; they offer me a sense of calm in this insane world.
I groan internally as I enter Luka’s office. I’ve avoided him since I aired out my emotional turmoil over school and work. It’s probably too trivial for someone who runs an empire and makes billions.
We never did discuss our moment in the training room. It’s like he forgot it even happened. But I did not. I play the memory of his hands around me over and over each night as I toss and turn. The pull to him grows with every passing day.
Luka’s standing at one of the windows, holding a glass of clear liquid that I’d bet isn’t water, and he is staring down into traffic. My face flushes as though my thoughts from a moment ago are scribbled on my forehead.
“Yes, Boss?” I snicker, trying to lighten the inevitable.
His head snaps in my direction, and I want to walk right back out of this office with the scowl he is giving me. He raises an eyebrow.
“Do not call me that.” His voice is stern and annoyingly irresistible—a unique blend of sultry demand.
Ugh.
I smile and reach behind me, fumbling with the door handle, wishing I could throw it open and run away. This is awkward—Iam awkward.
“What did the man say to you, Kate?” he asks.
“Nothing. I bumped into him, apologized, and he said, ‘Not a problem, Ms. Castile.’ It took me half a second to realize he had addressed me by name.”
“A half a second too long,” Luka barks, and his intoxicating voice becomes menacing. He moves to his desk and sets down his glass.
“Honestly, I could’ve known him from an event or something. Don’t assume it has to do with the elusive Antonio,” I bite back, moving closer to him, heart hammering.
His nose flares at my proximity, and my stomach bottoms out, thinking about being close enough to touch him. Because I want to—I want to touch him. I take him in—the black suit and black tie he never deviates from, his stubbled facial hair, and those blue eyes, round with worry.
“Want to go to dinner?” I blurt out, emboldened by his reaction. His eyes narrow at me, and I wish I could take back those words. “I mean … if you want to. We could discuss work, and—uh—you could give me a performance evaluation.”
There is something seriously wrong with me.
Luka smirks as he figures out that I’m backpedaling.
“A performance evaluation,” he parrots.
I hate it when he does that. My mouth drops open, and I rack my brain for words. He steps closer to me, standing by my side, and our arms touch. His pinky grazes my hand.
“And what performance should I be evaluating?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly by my ear. My breathing stops at his tone. I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.
