Oh, my God.
I stared at the message, my pulse racing. He couldn't be serious. I had to work today. Lead the staff. Walk around his house with nothing underneath my clothes while he watched and waited and—The phone buzzed again.
That's an order, not a suggestion.
Bastard. But I was smiling when I put the phone down.
The day crawled by with excruciating slowness. I threw myself into work taking inventory in the wine cellar, reorganizing the linen closet, supervising the deep clean of the formal dining room. Anything to keep my mind off tonight.
It didn't work.
Every time I bent over, I thought about his hands on my hips. Every time I climbed a ladder, I imagined him watching. Every time I passed his study, I remembered the way he'd looked at me in the pantry like I was something he wanted to devour.
"Katrina?" Elena touched my arm. "You okay? You've been staring at that shelf for five minutes."
I blinked. "I'm fine. Just thinking."
"About?" She grinned. "You seem distracted today. The good distracted, though. You're actually smiling."
Am I?
"Just slept well," I said, which wasn't a complete lie.
"Must've been some sleep." She grabbed her cleaning supplies. "Mr. Sidorov's been in a good mood too. Mikhail said he's never seen him so relaxed."
My stomach flipped. "That's nice."
"Yeah. Weird, but nice." She headed for the stairs. "Maybe he finally got laid or something."
I nearly choked on my coffee. Elena didn't notice, already halfway down the hall, humming something off-key. I had to be more careful. I didn’t want anybody around here finding out what we were up to.
The afternoon dragged even worse. I checked my phone obsessively, even though Olek hadn't texted again. Tried on the black dress three times to make sure it looked right. Debated the underwear situation for a full twenty minutes before remembering he'd said it was an order.
Fine. No underwear. I could do this. I was a grown woman. I'd survived worse things than going commando in my boss's house while he—The phone buzzed.
O
My study. 6 PM. We're having dinner.
Dinner?
I do occasionally eat food.
Together?
That's what dinner usually involves. Don't be late.
I stared at the message. Dinner. He wanted to have actual dinner with me, not just—this wasn't part of the contract.
Why?
Because I want to.
That's not an answer.
It's the only one you're getting. 6 PM, Katrina. Wear the dress.
I showed up at 5:58 PM because I was always punctual. The study door was open. Olek stood by the window, this time in dark jeans and a black henley that made him look less like a mob boss and more like something out of a cologne ad. He turned when I entered, and his eyes went dark.
