She laughs again, wipes her eyes. "Where is Anya?"
"With your father for the night."
"My father?"
"I thought we could use some time alone."
She looks at me with heat creeping into her gaze. "Did you now?"
"I did."
She steps closer, runs her hands up my chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of my suit jacket. "What exactly did you have planned for this time alone?"
I lean down until my lips are brushing against her ear. "I thought I would let you drug me again and have your way with me."
She laughs, pushes at my chest. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"
"Never."
She grabs my tie, pulls me toward the bedroom, walking backward through the scattered rose petals with that smile on her face that makes me want to give her the entire world.
"Then I better make tonight worth remembering."
CHAPTER 7
ILAY
Her lips are on mine beside the bed and her fingers are working at my tie in the golden glow of hundreds of candles while rose petals crush beneath our feet and the city lights of Moscow twinkle through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind us.
She tastes like want and desperation and mine.
"Eager," I murmur against her mouth and she pulls back just enough to look at me with those green eyes gone dark.
"I've been waiting all day for this, for you, thinking about what you'd do to me tonight while I sat at my desk pretending to care about paperwork."
I take her chin in my hand and tilt her face up so she has no choice but to look at me. "Is that so?"
"Yes."
"What were you thinking about?"
"This." She presses her body closer to mine until I can feel every curve through the silk of her dress. "You. What you'd do to me the second we were alone."
"Tell me."
"I'd rather you show me."
I smile at her, slow and dangerous, and watch the shiver run down her spine. "Turn around."
She obeys and I brush her red hair over one shoulder so I can see the zipper running down the back of the champagne dress that I picked out for her, the one that hugs every curve and makes her look like she belongs on a red carpet.
I drag the zipper down slowly, one tooth at a time, watching the fabric part to reveal the smooth expanse of her back and the dimples at the base of her spine that I want to press my lips against.
"You wore this for me," I say against her ear and she shivers.
"You bought it for me."
"I did." I push the fabric off her shoulders and let it fall, pooling at her feet in a puddle of silk. "And now I'm taking it off you."
