Champagne Venom (Orlov Bratva, #1)(13)

“But you did stay, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I stayed,” she says coldly. “It’s easier to have pride when you have money, Mr. Orlov.”

“There’s no sense putting up professional barriers now. We didn’t use one that night.”

Her jaw drops before she catches herself and stands tall. “I was flustered, and confused, and a little drunk, and I forgot to ask. It was a mistake.”

“A more cynical man might assume you had an ulterior motive.”

“I thought you didn’t make assumptions, sir,” she hisses. “What exactly are you worried about? If you’ve contracted some sort of horrible STD, it must have been from one of the other dozens of helpless damsels in distress I’m sure you’ve rescued since then.”

I raise my eyebrows, surprised that that’s where she’s jumped. It hadn’t even crossed my mind until this second that she might be jealous.

She waits for me to say something. Maybe to deny that I’ve slept with anyone else. Or to assure her I don’t have a disease.

I haven’t, and I don’t.

But watching her squirm is way too much fun to tell her that.

When I say nothing, she leans forward and spits her words into my face. “You’re a complete asshole.

You don’t deserve this, but I’ll ease your mind anyway: I. Am. Clean.” When I still don’t respond, she bites back a scream. “Do you seriously not believe me? Am I required to do a test or something? For God’s sake, I’m clean. You’re the first man I’ve slept with in months.”

“I wasn’t worried about an STD,” I say finally.

She glances down, cheeks blazing. “Wonderful news. Listen, whether you believe me or not, I need this job. So let’s do ourselves a favor and forget that night ever happened.”

I tap a pen against my knuckles. “You’re sure you want this?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Being my personal assistant will not be easy.”

“Knowing you, I’m not surprised.”

I take a half-step forward, casting her in my shadow. “Trust me, Ms. Masters: you don’t know anything about me.”

Most women would back down. Hell, most women would run screaming for the hills. I like that she does neither. Instead, she stands her ground and stares back. It doesn’t matter that she’s more than one foot and one hundred pounds outclassed—she won’t retreat.

It’s admirable.

Stupid, but admirable.

“You don’t know me, either, Mr. Orlov. But you can trust that I’m a woman of my word. What happened that night… It’s as good as forgotten.”

“Only time will tell.”

She frowns, confused. Which, in and of itself, floors me. How can a single woman who chooses to have unprotected sex with a random stranger not be worried about the consequences?

“Time…” she repeats. Then it seems to hit her. “You’re worried I might be pregnant?”

“Since I know how babies are made, yes.”

“I know how they’re made, too,” she says coldly. “Which is how I know we’re safe.”

“You’re on the pill?”

“No,” she mutters and glances down at her shoes. “I don’t need to be. I was told by a doctor a long time ago that it would be… impossible for me to ever get pregnant.”

The moment of silence stretches and twists to the breaking point. I can hear the regret and longing in Paige’s voice. She should be glad she didn’t have a baby with her fake husband of six years, but she isn’t brimming with glee now.

I despise how much I care.

She pulls in a breath and forces her eyes up to mine. “Anyway, my point is, you don’t have to worry about having an unwanted child with a random woman.”

“Considering you’re my assistant now, you’re not so random.”

“Does that mean you’re letting me keep the job?”

“It would be poor form to take away a job that you’ve only held for five minutes. If you lose this position, Ms. Masters, it won’t be because of our unfortunate night together.”

She flinches at the word “unfortunate.” And again, I feel that unfamiliar pang of guilt.

“Well, as I said, let’s just forget that unfortunate night ever happened.” She shifts back towards the door. “I saw what I’m guessing is my desk out there. I better go familiarize myself with it.”

I’m so distracted by her ass in that skirt that she’s almost out the door before I stop her. “Ms.

Masters.”

She pauses and turns. “Yes?”

“You’ll find an NDA on your desk. Read it, sign it, and hand it back to me by the end of the hour. Or you can go looking for a new job.”

Her eyes spark with fire one more time. Then she nods and shuts the door behind her.





10

MISHA

When she’s gone, I run a hand over my face. “Blyat’.”

What a fucking disaster.

I retreat to my office and sit down at my desk to muddle my way through reams of paperwork. This will eventually be work for my new P.A., but the thought of asking Paige back in here right now feels intolerable.