Twenty minutes passed. Thirty. I was pouring drinks when I finally saw her. She appeared in the doorway, composed and professional in a fresh uniform. Her hair was perfect. Her makeup was flawless. Nothing about her suggested she'd been thoroughly fucked less than an hour ago.
Except I knew. I could see the slight flush on her neck. The careful way she moved. The fact that she wouldn't quite meet my eyes. Good. Let her remember. Let her feel me with every step.
"Mr. Sidorov." She gave a small nod. "My apologies for the delay. I'm ready to show your guests to their rooms now."
So formal. So distant. Like I hadn't just had my dick in her ass.
"Thank you, Katrina." I kept my voice equally professional. "Everyone, this is Katrina, my head of household. She'll get you settled."
"Finally!" Irina beamed. "Come, you must tell me everything. How do you manage him? We've been trying for years. Maybe I should have you come run my house."
Katrina's lips curved in a polite smile. "He's very particular about his standards. But manageable."
"Manageable," Dmitri repeated, grinning. "I like her already."
I watched Katrina lead the group away, fielding questions and compliments with practiced ease. She was good at being charming and professional and completely untouchable.
No one would know that an hour ago she'd been crying my name. No one would know she was mine. Except me. And time suddenly felt like a lifetime and no time at all. Because I was going to have to figure out how to convince her to stay. How to make her see that this wasn't just about the agreement anymore. That somewhere this had become real. And I didn't know how to do that without scaring her away.
"You're staring," Mikhail said.
"I'm observing."
"You're besotted."
I didn't deny it.
I couldn't.
Because he was right. I was completely, utterly smitten with Katrina.
That’s when it hit me. I was either going to have to convince her to stay. Or lose the best thing that had ever happened to me. That’s when I made my decision. I needed to find a way to make her stay.
Olek
Dinner was chaotic.
Over twenty people crammed around my dining table, family, friends, associates were all talking over each other in a mix of Russian and English. Plates passed. Vodka flowed. Laughter echoed off the high ceilings.
It should have felt good. This was what I'd planned, a proper Christmas celebration with people I trusted. Instead, I couldn't focus on anything except Katrina moving around the edges of the room, refilling glasses and clearing plates. She hadn't looked at me once.
Not when she served my plate. Not when she leaned past me to refill my cousin's wine. Not even when Dmitri made a joke that had everyone roaring with laughter. It was driving me insane.
"Olek, are you listening?" Dmitri snapped his fingers in front of my face.
"What?"
"I asked if you're coming to the club tomorrow night. Cori's opening a new place in the Strip District."
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" Cori leaned forward. "Since when do you maybe anything? You're always the first one there."
"I've been busy."
"With what?" Irina asked innocently. "Or should I say, with whom?"
The table erupted in knowing laughter.
