Page 191 of Sexting His Assistant

He waits for her to fill the space, but she doesn’t.

Good girl.

I turn my head slowly. “Don’t.”

Kirill’s smile disappears.

He lifts his hands in a small gesture of surrender. “No offense meant.”

“Then none should be taken,” Oleg says, voice flat.

I look at him. “You should teach him silence. It would improve his survival rate.”

Nina makes a very small sound beside me, almost a breath, almost a laugh, but she swallows it quickly.

Kirill’s face darkens.

I don’t give him another second.

I guide Nina past them and continue toward the exit. Behind us, Kirill says something low to Oleg, but I don’t turn back.

“Who are they?” Nina asks curiously.

“Cockroaches,” I say simply. “They don’t matter.”

She nods. “People rarely do in your life.”

I look at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She doesn’t reply.

The photographers at the entrance call my name as we step outside. I ignore them. Sergei is already at the car, checking the handle, undercarriage, and rear wheel wells with methodical efficiency.

Nina watches the check without making a joke, and that tells me enough about where her mind is.

I open the passenger door once Sergei nods. She gets in, gathering the skirt of her dress carefully, her face turned away from the cameras.

I close the door and walk around to the driver’s side.

I get into the car.

Nina does not look at me.

I start the engine and pull away from the entrance, the security car sliding into position behind us. The venue lights recede in the mirror. Cameras flash against the rear window until we turn through the gates and join the main road.

For the first few minutes, I give her silence.

She uses it like a wall.

Her hands are folded in her lap, fingers resting over the small purse where Roman may have put something. I saw the way her hand kept moving toward it after the dance. She thinks I didn’t notice.

Well, I noticed. I notice too much where she’s concerned, and still not enough to keep Roman away from her for three fucking minutes.

“You’re very quiet.”

She doesn’t turn to me. “You accused me of lying in the middle of a gala.”

“I did.”