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Not Just the Boss's Plaything(19)



"You're perfectly capable of making conversation," she pointed out in    the same dry tone. "In fact, you're doing it right now, though I don't    know if it qualifies as 'appropriate.'" She considered him for a  moment,   a small smile that he didn't like, yet found he wanted to  taste,   flirting with her full lips. "I suspected there must be some  kind of   application process and I'm delighted I'm right, but I'm not  dating you.   This isn't real." Her gaze turned hard on his. "This is  blackmail."                       
       
           



       

"Call it whatever you like," he said, with a careless shrug. "The result is the same."

"Blackmail," she repeated, very distinctly. "I think you'll find that's    what it's called when you force someone into doing something they  don't   want to do by holding something else over their head."

Nikolai could see all of that temper in her dark gaze, the flash of it    when she couldn't hide her feelings. She wore a sleeveless wool top    tonight in a deep aubergine shade, with a neck that drooped down low and    left her smooth, toned arms on display, looking soft and sweet in the    candlelight. But most important, he could see every time she tensed,    every time she forced herself to relax, written up and down the lean,    elegant shape of those arms and all across her slender frame. Like  now,   when she forced her shoulders back and down, then smiled at him  as if   she wasn't agitated at all.

She didn't know, yet, that he could read her body the way others read    words on a page. But she would learn, and he would greatly enjoy    teaching her. First, though, they had business to take care of. If it    alarmed him that he had to remind himself of business before pleasure    for the first time in living memory, he ignored it.

"There is a confidentiality agreement that you'll need to sign," he told    her, dismissing her talk of blackmail, which he could see she didn't    like. "Beyond that, I have only standard expectations. Don't venture  out   into public unless you're prepared to be photographed, as terrible    pictures of you could lead to negative coverage of me, which is    unacceptable. I'll let you know what pleases me-"

"If you mention a single thing about altering my appearance to suit your    tastes, whatever those might be," she said almost conversationally,    though there was murder in her eyes, "I will stab you with this fork.    I'm not dating you, Nikolai. I'm acquiescing to your bizarre demands    because I want to keep my job, but we're not reenacting some sick little    version My Fair Lady. I don't care about pleasing you."

Nikolai was definitely enjoying himself. Especially when he saw that    little shiver move through her, and knew they were both thinking about    all the ways she could please him. All the ways she had. He smiled    slightly.

"Is that a passive-aggressive demand that I compliment your looks?" he    asked silkily. "I had no idea you were so insecure, Alicia. I'd have    thought the fact that I had my mouth on every inch of that gorgeous body    of yours would have told you my feelings on that topic in no  uncertain   terms. Though I'm happy to repeat myself."

"I may stab you with this fork anyway." She met his gaze then and    smiled. But he could see that her breathing had quickened. He knew    arousal when he saw it. When he'd already tasted it. All of that heat    and need, sweet against her dark skin. "Fair warning."

"You can always try."

She considered that for a moment, then sat back against her chair,    inclining her head slightly as if she held the power here and was    granting him permission to carry on.

"Don't ever keep me waiting," Nikolai said, continuing as if she hadn't    interrupted him. "Anywhere. For any reason. My time is more valuable    than yours."

Her eyes narrowed at that, but she didn't speak. Perhaps she was    learning, he thought-but he hoped not. He really hoped not. He wanted    her conquered, not coerced. He wanted to do it himself, step by    delectable step.

"Don't challenge my authority. In your case, I'll allow some leeway    because I find that smart mouth of yours amusing, but only a little    leeway, Alicia, and never in public. Your role is as an ornament. I    won't tolerate disrespect or disobedience. And I will tell you what you    are to me, explicitly-never imagine yourself anything else. I can't    stress that enough."

The silence between them then felt tighter. Hotter. Breathless, as if    the great room had shrunk down until there was nothing but the two of    them and the gently flickering candles. And her eyes were big and dark    and he realized he could no longer read the way she looked at him.                       
       
           



       

"You're aware that this is a conversation about dating you for show, not    working for you as one of your many interchangeable subordinates at   the  Korovin Foundation," she said after a moment. "Aren't you?"

"The roles aren't dissimilar."

He stretched his legs out in front of him and lounged even lower in the chair.

"Is this your usual first date checklist, then?"

Her gaze swept over him, and he had no idea what she saw. It surprised him how much he wanted to know.

He nodded, never taking his gaze from hers. "More or less."

"You actually ask a woman to dinner and then present her with this    list." She sounded dubious, and something else he wasn't sure he    recognized. "Before or after you order starters? And what if she says    no? Do you stand up and walk out? Leave her with the bill for her    temerity?"

"No one has ever said no." He felt that fire between them reach higher,    pull tighter. He could see it on her face. "And I don't take women to    dinner without a signed confidentiality agreement. Or anywhere else."

Alicia tapped a finger against her lips for a moment, and he wanted to    suck that finger into his own mouth almost more than he wanted his next    breath. Need raked through him, raw and hungry.

"You brought me here that night," she pointed out, her tone light, as if    there was no tension between them at all. "I certainly didn't sign    anything."

Nikolai almost smiled. "You are an anomaly."

"Lucky me," she murmured, faint and dry, and there was no reason that    should have worked through him like a match against flint. He didn't    like anomalies. He shouldn't have to keep telling himself that.

"If you've absorbed the initial requirements," he said, watching her intently now, "we can move on."

"There are more? The mind boggles."

She was mocking him, he was sure of it. He could see the light of it    bright in her eyes and in that wicked twist of her lips, and for some    reason, he didn't mind it.

"Sex," he said, and liked the way she froze, for the slightest instant,    before concealing her reaction. He had to shift in his seat to hide   his.

"You don't really have rules for sex with your girlfriends, Nikolai,"    she said softly. Imploring him. "Please tell me you're joking."

"I think of this as setting clear boundaries," he told her, leaning    forward and smiling when she shivered and sat back. "It prevents undue    confusion down the line."

"Undue confusion is what relationships are all about," Alicia said,    shaking her head. Her dark eyes searched his, then dropped to her lap.    "I rather think that might be the whole point."

"I don't have relationships." He waited until her eyes were on him    again, until that tension between them pulled taut and that electric    charge was on high, humming through them both. "I have sex. A lot of it.    I'll make you come so many times your head will spin, which you   already  know is no idle boast, but in return, I require two things."

Nikolai watched her swallow almost convulsively, but she didn't look    away. She didn't even blink. And he didn't quite know why he felt that    like a victory.