“He’s already in the conference room with the Winthrop account,” Sarah replied without looking up from her computer. “Asked me to send you in as soon as you arrived.”
Anka’s pulse quickened. The Winthrop account was a major shipping contract worth eight figures—not the kind of meeting where assistants were typically invited to observe, let alone participate. But Viktor had been including her in more and more significant discussions, testing her insights and valuing her perspective in ways that made her feel intoxicated by possibility.
She grabbed her tablet and the analysis she’d completed the night before, then headed toward the glass-walled conference room. Through the transparent barriers, she could see Viktor in full command mode—shoulders squared, jaw set, every inch the formidable businessman who could make grown men reconsider their life choices with a single look.
God, he was magnificent like this. All controlled power and razor-sharp intelligence, wearing authority like it was tailored specifically for his frame. The way he dominated space without raising his voice, the way his presence seemed to charge the very air around him—it made her blood run hotter than any designer suit should reasonably allow.
Focus, she commanded herself. You’re here to work, not to fantasize about your complicated husband’s competence kink.
But as she entered the conference room and Viktor’s ice-blue eyes met hers with something that looked almost like pride, focusing became significantly more difficult.
“Gentlemen,” Viktor said smoothly, “I’d like you to meet Anka Nikolai, our new contracts analyst. She’ll be reviewing the terms we’ve discussed.”
The three men around the conference table—Winthrop himself and two lawyers who looked like they billed by the minute—turned to assess her with expressions ranging from polite skepticism to barely concealed condescension.
“Of course,” Winthrop said with the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “How lovely to have a fresh perspective.”
Fresh perspective. As if she were an intern brought in to take notes and fetch coffee. The dismissive tone made her teeth clench, but she kept her expression pleasant as she took the seat Viktor indicated.
“I’ve had a chance to review the proposed terms,” she said, opening her tablet with deliberate confidence. “There are several areas that warrant discussion.”
Winthrop’s eyebrows rose slightly, as if surprised she could speak in complete sentences. “Such as?”
“The liability clauses in sections twelve and fifteen create asymmetrical risk exposure that heavily favors your organization,” she began, her voice steady despite the way Viktor’s attention was focused entirely on her. “Additionally, the force majeure provisions are unusually broad and could potentially void our obligations under circumstances that would typically be considered foreseeable business risks.”
One of the lawyers leaned forward, suddenly more attentive. “Could you elaborate on your concerns regarding section fifteen?”
For the next twenty minutes, she dissected the contract with surgical precision, identifying loopholes, questioning ambiguous language, and proposing modifications that would create more equitable terms. She could feel Viktor’s gaze on her throughout, intense and evaluating, but also something else—something that made heat pool low in her belly despite the professional setting.
“These are... very astute observations,” Winthrop admitted when she finished, his tone considerably more respectful than it had been at the start of the meeting. “We’ll need some time to review your proposed changes with our legal team.”
“Of course,” Viktor said, standing to signal the end of the meeting. “Take all the time you need. We’re in no rush to sign anything that doesn’t serve everyone’s interests.”
After the Winthrop team filed out, Viktor closed the conference room door and turned to face her. The sudden privacy made the air between them crackle with electricity.
“That was impressive,” he said, his voice lower than it had been during the meeting.
“You sound surprised.”
“Not surprised. Satisfied.” He moved closer, and she caught the subtle scent of his cologne—something expensive and masculine that made her want to bury her face in his neck. “You just saved us approximately two million dollars in potential liability exposure.”
“Just doing my job.”
“Your job was to observe and learn. What you just did was...” He paused, seeming to search for the right words. “You just negotiated like someone with twenty years of experience, not twenty minutes.”
The pride in his voice made something warm unfurl in her chest. When was the last time someone had praised her competence instead of her compliance? When had anyone looked at her like she was brilliant instead of just beautiful?
“It felt good,” she admitted. “Using my brain for something that matters, contributing something real instead of just... existing prettily.”
“You’ve never just existed prettily, Anka. You’ve always been brilliant. The difference is that now you have somewhere to direct that brilliance.”
The intensity in his gaze made her breath catch. They were standing close enough that she could see the flecks of darker blue in his eyes, could count the individual lashes that framed them. The memory of how those eyes had looked when he’d kissed her, when he’d touched her, when he’d worshipped her body like it was something sacred—
“Mrs. Nikolai?”
They sprang apart like guilty teenagers as Sarah’s voice came through the intercom.
“Yes?” Anka managed, proud that her voice sounded relatively steady.
