My mind jumped back to the intimate moment we shared at the spa. The memory of him forcing me to rock against his erection and our lips brushing against each other, sharing each other’s breaths until we came.
I had to clench my thighs together to stop the dull, needy, insistent throb. Mr. Volkov shifted his gaze to my face. Hunger for something other than the food filled his eyes, and his nostrils flared. I sat back in my seat and ate the rest of my breakfast, shoving more into my mouth to keep it busy so I wouldn’t say something stupid. Mr. Volkov sipped his coffee and gently set it on the table. I watched him from the corner of my eye as he ate the rest of his omelet.
“Any plans today, Ms. Hayes?” he murmured, breaking the tense silence between us.
I released a breath. Anxiety was the worst about making me hold my breath without thinking about it. Raising my gaze to the ceiling, I thought about what today held.
“Mmm.” I turned and found him watching me with interest. “Well, I think it’s a normal day. I don’t think anything important is happening.”
It was Sunday, and unlike my parents, I didn’t go to church.I should probably reach out to my mom to see how she’s doing.I last talked to her when I was released from the hospital. I was sure she was worried about—
“Then we’ll go out and find a place for the Christmas party.” Mr. Volkov’s voice dragged me out of my distracted thoughts.
He brushed his fingers through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear and threading it through the length as he brought his hand down. I watched, fascinated and bewildered by the sexual allure of such a simple gesture.
An image popped into my mind’s eye of Mr. Volkov standing beside me, his hand on my lower back in a soft caress while we talked to someone about reserving the place for the party. It all had to have been in my mind because no way would my boss place his hand on me like that.
But he had me grind against him the other day until I came. No normal boss does that.
I nodded and gave him a soft smile. “Okay.”
Mr. Volkov stood, his chair scraping against the floor. “Thank you for breakfast, by the way. I’ll be sure to return the favor.”
I got up from my seat and offered him a smile. “It’s no problem. I don’t want you to think you have to give me anything in return or like this was transactional.”
He stared at me and the longer I looked into his eyes—which was a shocker to me since I didn’t like prolonged eye contact—the more I noticed amusement shining in the amber depths. “Are you going to stop me?”
“What could you possibly give?” The only thing I could think of was him taking me out somewhere to eat.
The corner of his mouth curled, and he took in every inch of my body before he returned his gaze to my face. He arched an eyebrow.
I reared back and stepped away from him to put more space between us, like that would stop him from pouncing on me. My pulse thundered in my ears, and I worried he could hear it from where he stood. “Am I, am I reading thi—”
Mr. Volkov brushed past me, and I swore I heard him chuckling beneath his breath. “We’re leaving, Ms. Hayes.”
The older mansion stood on a large plot of land outside New Orleans. It had been around for a hundred years and had been revamped. New light fixtures hung from the ceilings. In this room, a crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling, its tiny jewels reflecting light on the walls and dark wooden floors. Windows lined the back and overlooked the garden and its hedge maze. If I knew Emma, she’d most likely want to decorate it with fairy lights. She’d already done so with our home—which she hadn’t noticed because her attention had been elsewhere.
“I think this place is perfect,” Emma said as she talked to Beth, who had squeezed us in for a showing. Like I told Emma, money talked.
The older woman smiled, exposing a smudge of crimson lipstick on her front tooth. “Why, thank you. How many people are you expecting at the party?”
I glanced around the room. The light-yellow walls brightened up the space and made it look larger than it was. It would fit two hundred people. The rest could mingle in the adjoining room.
“Three hundred at least,” Emma said without missing a beat.
Beth showed no signs of shock. Not even a hint of widening eyes or a twitch in her facial muscles. She just nodded and smiled wider. “That should be fine. When did you want to reserve again?”
“December thirty-first. We want a Christmas and New Year’s party,” Emma said.
She changed the date?
“Well, if you want to reserve now, I would highly suggest you do it. You’re both very lucky that we didn’t already have a reservation since we get scheduled fast around this time.”
“Then we’ll do that,” Emma blurted, followed by a sheepish smile. “Do you mind if we walk through the building and see what we’re working with?”
Beth nodded and waved her hand, dismissing the notion that it wouldn’t be okay. “Of course! I’ll head to the office to do some paperwork for you and will grab you both for the final touches.”
“Thanks,” Emma said.
