Page 109 of Sexting His Assistant

“I don’t know.”

That’s not enough.

He sees that on my face. “I’m not sure yet,” he adds. “That’s why I brought in the lawyers immediately.”

“Not because you thought it might be true?”

His gaze holds mine. “No.”

I want to believe him. I hate how badly I want to believe him. “You looked very calm.”

“I was calculating.”

“That’s such a romantic answer.”

“I was not trying to romance her.”

I go quiet.

He resumes moving, slower now, almost absent, but still inside me, still holding me. The intimacy of having this conversation like this should feel ridiculous. It doesn’t. It feels impossible to lie when our bodies are connected, and his forehead is nearly touching mine.

“There is something I’m missing,” he says. “The timing is wrong. Her behavior is strange.”

“You think someone sent her?”

“I think someone wants me distracted.”

A cold thread moves through the warmth in my body.

“By a pregnancy scandal?”

“By anything that makes me look careless.”

I think of Alina in the hallway, one hand on her stomach, voice bright and theatrical.

Baby, guess what?

I wince.

“She kissed you,” I say.

His eyes come back to mine. “I noticed.”

“I noticed too.”

“I know.”

“You were supposed to push her away faster.”

“I was surprised.”

“Luka Kazan, surprised by a woman. Historic.”

His mouth almost curves. “She moved quickly.”

“She has probably been trained by your schedule.”

“Nina.”