“I figured as much,” he said, opening the door to the library for me.
After the door clicked shut behind us, he pulled a carefully folded piece of paper from his suit pocket. Careful not to brush his hand and give my hormones another reason to take over my brain, I took it.
“What is it?” I asked.
“There were a few things that stuck out to me when I was touring Jayden’s production plant yesterday. Cross reference them with your notes, and we’ll go over all your findings when I get back.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, reading through his perfect handwriting. Unlike my scrawling penmanship, every letter was meticulously crafted.
“I need to check something with my men.”
Wait, were they in the area? Before I could ask, he pointed at a number on the page. It was insane that a finger that large could write something so perfectly fine-tuned. Those fingers-
I tightened my grip on the piece of the paper in a futile attempt to rein in my thoughts.
“I’ll look into it,” I said. “Go handle your thing.”
I needed him out of here before I did something stupid.
“Are you dismissing me?” he asked with a deep laugh, leaning against the doorframe.
I swallowed as my eyes focused on the muscles straining against his suit. The very muscles I’d been fantasizing about last night.
“Yes,” I said, making a sarcastic flicking gesture with my hand.
Dmitri’s eyes darkened.
“Kotenok,” his voice deepened when he said the word, “you don’t get to order me around.”
A tingle ran up my spine, leaving me standing ramrod straight. His eyes focused in on the movement, his lips curving into a smile.
“Be good while I’m gone,” he said.
The door shut behind him before my fuzzy mind could come up with any kind of comeback.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I mentally shook myself out of the stupor he’d left me in. This was not like me at all.
Thankfully, the text I received distracted me from all thoughts of Dmitri. With a smile, I read Gemma’s text complaining about the book selection at the thrift store we frequented. It’d been the thing that brought us together. Each of us had been after the same dog-eared copy.
That fateful day had ended with two strangers agreeing to share a fantasy novel.
I leaned against the wall and glanced at the immaculate bookshelf. Like me, I bet Gemma would kill to have a personal library like this. Aged oak floor-to-ceiling shelves and an insane view bracketing it. I snapped a picture and sent it to her.
Part of me hated the omissions to her. I’d told her I was here for a work trip, which wastechnicallytrue. But still…
‘Dude has that much money for books, and can’t even pick out an interesting one,’ Gemma’s reply read.
I snorted. It was true.
The spines on these books weren’t even creased in the slightest. I wondered if Jayden had even read a single one. But as my eyes lazily glossed over the non-fiction books about being an outstanding leader, my attention caught on a green book.
I frowned and stepped closer. What was a cookbook doing here? There were hundreds of books on seizing power and maximizing your potential. This was the only one out of place, and it was the only book with a crease along the spine.
With amusement I flicked it open. Was Jayden secretly a cooking connoisseur?
When I swiped to a dog-eared page detailing how to make chicken marsala, my mouth dropped open. With growing excitement, I noted underlines scrawled underneath the measurements and the accompanying annotations.
Thiscouldbe absolutely nothing. Maybe he just wanted to make sure that he remembered to put six ounces of prosciutto instead of the recommended four. I turned the page and memorized the notations.
