I was, indeed, taken aback.
I had guessed her avoidance had something to do with the intimate night we shared, but I never thought the reason would be anything like this.
I walked slowly towards her. “I guess you’re right to think that way. But you're wrong to assume it’s the truth. Because it’s not.”
She looked up at me as I stood in front of her. Her confusion was palpable.
“All I feel at the thought of that night is pleasure. No headaches. And certainly no regrets.”
“I…you weren’t…” she stuttered as I came to stand beside her, leaning against the desk.
“It was a great night. Not one I’ll forget. After ogling you for a long while, I left for work. I got back to meet a different, closed-off version of you.”
“I just thought it’d be easier not to talk about it,” she confessed.
“That used to be the plan after every sexual encounter. But with you, it wasn’t. I didn’t want it to be the last time because every part of it was magic for me.”
“For me, too,” she revealed, her voice just above a whisper.
I wanted to kiss her in that moment.
“I know our marriage is circumstantial. But I'm positive we can get to know each other. We can become friends despite this situation. I know I want to know you better. Every single thing about you. I don’t know how to do these things, but I want to try. I want us to give it a shot.”
“I want that, too.”
“So, friends?” I asked, holding out my right hand.
She placed her left hand in it. “Friends.”
“I understand that the investigations aren’t comfortable. But we’d just agreed to work together, and you just left.”
“Yeah,” she breathed.
I brought my hand around her shoulder and kissed her temple. “You smell so good. Have I told you that before?”
She chuckled. “I could say the same about you.”
I didn’t know what to call it. I wasn’t even sure I’d felt it before but it was right there inside my chest, and I loved the feeling.
**********
I was in my downstairs office when Sergei came to inform me that the forensic accountant had arrived. We both stepped out of the office and were walking into the sitting room when the entrance doors opened, and Killian entered alongside a petite young lady who carried a black laptop bag. In a blue shirt and black pants, she looked polished and smart.
“Boss,” Killian greeted with a respectful nod. “Here is she.”
I nodded in acknowledgement as I stood in front of them, with Sergei to my right.
“Mila Petrov?” I mentioned, and she nodded.
“Good morning, Mr. Lobanov,” she greeted, her voice sharp. She was petite, a few inches shorter than Alina, and her chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
“Good afternoon, Mila. Welcome,” I answered. “Konstantin Lobanov.” I nodded towards Sergei, “This is Sergei, and the man who brought you is Killian.”
She nodded.
That was when I turned towards the stairs to find Alina descending, her squinting eyes on us. In a simple white tee and black joggers with her hair pouring down the sides of her face, she looked ravishing. If she had come down earlier, I would have kissed her until we both couldn’t breathe before letting her feet get to the sitting room. Fuck, if I had woken up next to her, I would have made sweet love to her before leaving, even if the warehouse was on fire.
“I thought you had left. That you were at work,” she said when her eyes met mine.
