She retrieves pink panties and throws those over her shoulder, too, then spins on her heels to look at me.
I stare at the lacy material that she casually swung out on display. The barely-there material has me imagining what her ass and thighs look like in them.
“You’ve got two minutes to get out of my apartment, Mr. Volkov, before I callthe cops. Got it?”
I don’t move an inch.
I probably should.
But logic went out the window the second I stepped into this place and got a real look at her, all wet hair, flushed skin, and throwing lace like a weapon.
I’ve handled arms deals smoother than this conversation, and yet here I am, frozen and staring like an idiot while she glares at me.
“I heard you.” I finally return my focus to her face. “But I’m guessing you wouldn’t make it far in your towel to your phone.”
She opens her mouth, ready to spit fire, then pauses and glances at her nightstand.
Empty.
I took the phone, and she’s smart as hell.
Sienna doesn’t ask where it is. She knows, which earns me an even harder glare.
“What do you want?” she snaps. “If it’s not cupcakes, I’m really not in the mood.”
It’s a fair question.
However, I’m not in the mindset of showing all my cards.
Not that she wouldn’t run screaming if she knew my plan.
I barely want to acknowledge that I need this woman, but I do.
And I’m going to have her.
She’s the only thing that comes close to getting me the leverage I need on local politicians to keep the heat off me.
“Come with me tonight.” My voice is steady, even if everything else in me is not. “I will put you up and protect you.”
She blinks. “Excuse me?”
“I said?—”
“Oh, no. Iheardyou.” She’s exasperated now. “I’m just trying to decide how many different ways I can say no.”
My temper ticks just a bit at her dismissal. “Let me rephrase. This is not a request, Sienna.”
“That’s even worse.” She crosses her arms and looks at me like I’ve just asked her to marry me, which is ironic because I’m going to, eventually.
But not now.
Now’s not the time. Not when she’s one wrong word away from throwing something significantly harder than a pillow.
“Out, Mr. Volkov. Last warning.”
I feel a shift in the air around us, something sharp in the way she stands. I can see the fight-or-flight instinct flickering behind her eyes. She’s deciding if she could take me if she makes a move toward her bedroom door.
I almost want her to.
