Sergei Damov is in love with someone who isn’t interested in him, but he’s determined to change that.
Sergei has pined for months, waiting for his assistant to turn around and see he's the perfect man for her. But Ada only sees him as her boss. Until one night when they both have to work late and the office is deserted…
It doesn’t happen right away, but soon Sergei has Ada right where he wants her—in his bed. Then demons from his past resurface, and he brutally pushes her away before the darkness inside him can consume them both.
But Ada isn’t about to let herself be used. Soon she turns the tables on him and disappears, leaving a mystery in her wake. Why was Ada working under an assumed name? Not just with him, but at every job she ever held?
Using every resource at his disposal, Sergei desperately searches for her, before the danger she’s running from catches up with her…and to try and heal the heart he shattered.
Excerpt
Chapter 1
Sergei paused behind his open office door and listened. Ada was chatting with Kelly. It was a normal, everyday conversation...except that they were laughing and joking like they were old friends. A week ago, Kelly had been gunning for Ada, determined to make her look bad in front of him. And now this. But he wasn’t really surprised anymore. That was just Ada. She could turn anyone into a friend.
Marveling silently, he went back to his desk for the latest report Ada had prepared. He could pretend to have a question about it. It gave him an excuse to talk to her. Slightly disgusted with himself, he put the report back down. It was—as usual—an exemplary report. Pretending it was unclear did Ada a disservice. She did her job as his executive assistant far too well.
Sighing, he picked up the coffee cup his other assistant Tim had fetched and took a long sip. It was already a little cold. Cheered by the thought of having a plausible excuse to leave his office, he opened the door wider to make his way to the break room.
Sergei passed by Ada’s desk, this time making an effort to avoid eavesdropping on her conversation. He already felt like a stalker. He listened in on her conversations a little too often. But sometimes he couldn’t help himself. Ada didn’t talk to him the way she talked to everyone else. He was her boss, and she treated him accordingly.
She looked up from her desk and nodded at him with the habitually distant and professional manner she used around him. He gave her a small nod back as he walked past. A few minutes later, he passed her again, checking in with Tim about the time of his next meeting.
“Is everything clear in my report?” Ada asked from her neighboring desk.
She’d whipped together a summary for today’s meeting in little more than an hour. The equivalent amount of work, with the required figures and statistics, would have taken anyone else the better part of a week. She’d been a spectacular hire, one he’d poached from one of his junior personnel. If only she wasn’t such a distraction.
Her report was perfect, as usual.
“It was clear, thank you,” he said stiffly before retreating to his office, berating himself for his awkwardness.
It wasn’t like him at all, but he couldn’t seem to relax around her. He sat at his desk, wondering how things had gotten to the point where he was spying on his executive assistant and making excuses to see her.
Calen and Alexandros would laugh their asses off if they could see him now. Or at least Calen would. Alex was married now. After hearing the story of how Alex had met his wife, Sergei thought he would have some idea of where he was coming from.
What he needed was a distraction. Maybe he wouldn’t be obsessing over his assistant if he got laid more than once every six months. Decision made, he flipped on the intercom.
“Tim, extend an invitation to Mz. Worth for this Saturday night.”
Tim’s perpetually earnest voice came back from the speaker, “You have that charity benefit on Saturday.”
“I don’t think getting a second ticket will be a problem,” he said dryly.
Sergei was one of the children’s charity’s largest donors.
“Of course. I’m on it, Mr. Damov,” Tim replied, getting to work with his usual competence.
Tim had been his social secretary for almost four years, and without him, Sergei's life would grind to a halt. Ada had only been working for him for seven months, but she had quickly become equally indispensable.
He remembered the first time he met her. One of the senior VPs on the twenty-third floor had pissed him off. Trevor Jones was usually a half-way proficient executive, but his report on one of Damov Industries’ subsidiaries was two days late. It wasn’t the first time, either.
Sergei had swept down to the twenty-third floor to put the fear of god into Mr. Jones, only to find the man in question tearing into a subordinate in the conference room before taking off for lunch a half hour early. A three dimensional model of a new hybrid engine one of his subsidiaries was developing had been destroyed—by Jones himself. But the hapless junior executive had gotten the blame for not informing him that model wasn’t glued together.
Sergei had stayed out of sight, taking the opportunity to see Jones in action. He soon found himself angry enough to contemplate firing the man. His senior VP was one of those executives who blamed everyone else for their mistakes and covered their incompetence with shows of temper.
“This better be fixed by the time I come back or you’re done here,” a balding and sweaty Jones had hissed before he’d stomped off.
The junior executive had looked tearfully at the jigsaw pile of pieces before a petite brunette had placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
That was the first time he’d ever seen Ada. Her dull, dark brown hair was pinned in a neat bun, a grey wool dress hugged her figure, and thick black, plastic-framed glasses dominated her small face. She was nothing special—not until she’d looked in his direction. Her startling, dark blue eyes were almost purple in the afternoon light. Attention piqued, he’d moved in for a closer look. Neither she nor the junior executive noticed him
“Go clean up, Mark. I’ve got this,” Ada said.
The panicked executive shook his head. “He’ll just tear your head off, too. We’ve got to send this back to R&D for reassembly.”
“No, really. I’ve got this. Go,” she’d asserted with a smile, giving him a little shove.
A grateful Mark took off. Once the little brunette was alone, she paced around the conference table. She examined the pieces from all sides and closed her eyes as if she was comparing it to a mental image of the model before disaster had struck. Then she’d dived in and started putting the thing back together.
Sergei was prepared to help when she inevitably failed. The model was too complex for someone without an engineering background to reassemble without directions, a copy of which were on his phone. But, miraculously, the scattered pieces started to coalesce into a coherent whole under her small hands. Soon, the pile of parts resembled the schematic he’d been sent the week before.
Fascinated, Sergei walked into conference room to watch her finish. She was done before she finally noticed she had company. He’d introduced himself, impressed as hell with the level of concentration that would lead someone to completely ignore the CEO of the company they worked for, not to mention the memory and attention to detail she had to possess to put the complex model back together in a matter of minutes.
Ada hadn’t even realized who he was at first. She’d been caught off guard when he introduced himself, hesitating for a second and flushing a rosy pink before her usual unflappable confidence had returned. She shook his hand and cleared the table, offering him the use of the conference room without mentioning the scene that had led to the broken model in the first place.
The next day, he promoted her to a position created specifically for her. She had started as one of three assistants, but his most senior PA, Edith, had retired soon after. Now Ada and Tim were his only assistants. Ada oversaw all of his corporate accounts and research, while Tim organized his daily schedule and any social events he needed to throw as the head of a multi-billion dollar enterprise.
Noting the time, Sergei turned off the speaker on his desk. A few minutes later, Ada knocked, announcing the arrival of his four o’clock meeting. She sat unobtrusively in the corner, taking notes and feeding him information whenever he asked it of her. When the meeting ended, he focused on his departing guests, forcing himself not to watch his assistant leave.
But the image of her blue eyes and delicate features stayed in his head anyway. These days, he even saw them in his sleep.
****
Ada sat at her desk with a little exhalation. Back to back meetings made her days long, but she appreciated the work. It kept her busy, and generally that was a very good thing.
Sergei Damov was the best boss she’d ever had. He had recognized her innate intelligence and had promoted her from the relative obscurity of the twenty-third floor after their first meeting. Working for him was exhausting, but Ada usually rose to the occasion. And Mr. Damov’s appreciation extended to her paycheck. She was finally building a little nest egg on her own...or at least padding her emergency fund.
“I understand, Mrs. Worth, I’ll send the car for you on Saturday,” Tim was saying into his headset.
Ada smiled sympathetically. Neither of them much liked the divorced socialite that Mr. Damov used as a backup escort when he was between girlfriends. When Ada thought about Mrs. Worth resuming her visits to the office, it almost made her miss Ivanka, the bitchy supermodel he’d been dating when she’d started working for him. At least Ivanka had ignored her and Tim, but Fiona Worth thought of Sergei’s assistants as her own. She had expected Ada to drop everything she was doing to run errands for her. Mr. Damov had to intervene once when the overly groomed woman had thrown a fit the time Ada refused to stop working to go pick up her dry-cleaning.
“I don’t see why she always insists on Sergei picking her up. She has her own driver. She got him in the divorce,” Tim grumbled when he hung up.
“If she used her own driver, Mr. Damov might be inclined to ditch her should he run into another supermodel at one of those events,” she murmured quietly.
Tim snickered and offered to refill her coffee.
“I’ve had enough for today,” Ada said easily, avoiding eye contact.
She liked Tim, but she didn’t want to encourage another dinner invitation. In the last few weeks, she’d already turned him down twice and was hoping not to have to do it a third time. Under other circumstances, she would have liked to say yes, but keeping people at arm’s length was necessary.
Turning to watch his tall form as he left, she smiled wistfully. It would have been nice to be able to spend time with him after work. Tim Moss was one of the nicest people she’d ever met. And he was cute.
Hours passed as she prepared for Sergei’s upcoming business trip. She wouldn’t have to attend this one, which was just as well. Ada had finally convinced him to hire back a third assistant, and she was going to be conducting some preliminary interviews while he was away. However, Tim still had to go; Sergei never went anywhere without him.
Dinner was delivered to their office at eight that night, just as Tim was getting ready to leave. He lingered for a while and was still talking to her when Sergei stuck his head out of his office door and ordered him to go home. When their boss retreated to his desk, leaving the heavy wood ajar, Tim looked at Ada and frowned.
“You know, he never used to leave the door open,” he said as he reluctantly put on his coat.
Ada was too tired to pay his comment any attention. She stretched in her chair. “Go home. I would be out the door if I was done.”
Her sleepless night was catching up with her. And she didn’t like to talk with Tim when she was tired and her defenses were down. Which made his habit of trying to coordinate their departure times so they could share a cab a little annoying. Especially lately. Time alone might mean another dinner invitation she couldn’t accept.
Tim finally left, and Ada ate her solitary meal at her desk and went to the break room afterwards for her fourth cup of coffee of the day. Lingering at the window that afforded a partially obstructed view of the Manhattan skyline, she stood there lost in thought.
A steady job was a double-edged sword. It meant money and security, but she couldn’t socialize at all or let anyone close. She was actually lonelier now than in those jobs where she’d only stayed a few weeks or months.
Behind her, someone cleared their throat. Ada whirled around. Her boss was standing behind her, his tall muscular form still immaculate in a crisp suit and perfectly tied tie. In the beginning, she had wondered if he kept a duplicate suit in his office, which was equipped with its own closet, shower, and a long leather couch for the really late nights that turned into early mornings. She soon realized that Mr. Damov just never got messy or sweaty. Tim had nicknamed him the iceman. Since he never showed much emotion, Ada found the nickname fitting.
“I’m sorry I finished the coffee, Mr. Damov,” she said, mentally cursing to herself. “Would you like me to make more?”
She didn’t know why he liked the coffee in the break room. He had one of those fancy pod machines in his office, but he preferred the drip coffee from the machine the staff used.
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Sergei?”
“Just one more,” she answered, as she always did.
Calling him by his first name seemed too relaxed for the image she was trying to maintain. She did use Sergei in her head, but insisted on using Mr. Damov when addressing him.
“I can make it,” he said, shaking his head as she reached for the coffee pot.
His rough, deep voice skittered along her nerves. Ada nodded and got out of the way as she sipped the lukewarm coffee from the previous pot. She didn’t know why she was on edge. They had spent plenty of time alone together. But usually someone else was still around in the background: Tim or Niko. Tonight the office was completely deserted, and she felt unaccountably nervous.
“He has a crush on you, you know,” he said suddenly.
Ada choked on her coffee. “What?”
Sergei came up behind her and gave her several hard whacks on the back.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said holding up her hands.
Her back was stinging from the forceful blows.
“Are you sure?” he asked attentively.
She nodded and smiled awkwardly, itching to step away, but she was already trapped in the corner of the room.
“I meant Tim. He has a crush on you. Before you started to work here, he was out the door at the earliest opportunity. Now I have to order him to go home. He always tries to leave when you leave. And I heard he asked you to dinner.”
Startled, Ada stared at her boss. Niko must have told him all that stuff. The craggy-faced older Russian never missed a thing. Niko Zotov was another mixed blessing to working here. He was Damov Industries’ head of security. He and his team kept close tabs on Sergei, accompanying him wherever he went.
She had initially thought the four man security team was a little excessive, but then Tim had told her that about a failed kidnapping attempt a few years ago. Niko had singlehandedly foiled the attack, shooting one of the would-be kidnappers in the chest. After that, Sergei had expanded Niko’s team to its current number, all ex-military from Russia. Though Tim was English and she was actually Canadian, Sergei preferred men from the motherland when it came to his personal security.
Sergei was still waiting for an answer. “He did ask, but I don’t think it’s because of a crush. He’s just friendly,” Ada lied, a little too aware of how close her boss was standing to her.
Sergei raised a brow. “I think you know that’s not true. And he’s not the only one. Half the men on this floor flirt with you. You always shut them down. Why is that?”
“Um,” Ada said, almost swallowing her tongue.
Sergei never talked about personal matters. It was one of her favorite things about her boss. And it definitely was not half the men. In fact, Tim was the only one she was sure about. The rest of the floor was just friendly. They had welcomed her with open arms. After the first week anyway.
“Hey, more than half the men on this floor are married,” she said, frowning.
It was more like three out of four. Sergei just smiled at her sardonically and ignored her comment the way he did all things he didn’t think worthy of discussing.
“Maybe you prefer the company of women? Although you also turn them down when they invite you to socialize after work.”
It was said with no judgment. Just open curiosity. Ada laughed. “When work ends routinely after nine, all I want to do is go home and sleep.”
“So you aren’t a lesbian?” he pressed.
“No,” Ada said, her smile growing fixed and brittle.
She was starting to get annoyed but tried not to let it show. After all, Sergei was her boss.
“Good,” he whispered back.
He leaned closer, and all of a sudden, she was in his arms, his warm lips against hers.
Shocked to her core, Ada froze. Dizzily, she groped for the counter behind her, expecting him to let her go. But he didn’t. Instead, his lips grew softer against hers, and his body pressed her farther into the corner of the break room. A moment of indecision turned into three and then four as her body was flooded with heat.
“Angel,” he murmured while momentarily breaking the kiss.
Her whole body suddenly tensed, and she snapped back to attention. She pushed her boss away with a nervous laugh. “Um, definitely not a lesbian. But also not interested in an affair or a fling with the man who signs my paychecks,” she said honestly with a shaky breath.
For a long moment, Sergei didn’t move. He straightened up and backed away as if she’d just told him she was a man.
He cleared his throat again and said very formally, “My apologies. I forgot myself for a moment.” Then he was gone, leaving Ada staring after him.
That night, sleep was impossible. Tossing and turning, she couldn’t stop replaying the scene in the break room, fixating like a broken record on the moment when he called her Angel.
It had been a long time since anyone had called her that.
Chapter 2
“What do you mean you’re getting married?” Sergei asked in Russian into his cell phone.
He had come into his office early so he could avoid Ada at her desk for as long as possible. He still felt like a complete ass for his behavior the night before. He’d fired assistants for becoming too familiar with him. Twice now attractive young women had come to work for him with the primary goal of getting him into bed. He’d gotten rid of them without a second thought. And now he’d sexually harassed his PA. The best one he’d ever had.
“It’s a long story, but it’s happening this weekend. Can you make it up to Boston this Saturday?” Calen answered back, his Russian rusty but still good enough to be understood.
Calen had learned the language when he and Sergei had roomed together at the University of Edinburgh. Calen had insisted on Sergei teaching him if they roomed together, claiming that he wasn’t about to live with someone who could be ordering his death behind his back. It was jokes like that, blatant and in your face, that had made them fast friends. Both of them had come to school with ‘bodyguards’ in tow.
Sergei’s father, a Russian oil tycoon from Omsk deeply immersed in the Bratva—the Russian mob—had insisted on the bodyguard. Since saying no had meant not being allowed to leave home for school, Sergei capitulated at first.
Calen had a similar story. His father was a well-known figure in Boston’s organized crime network. When they had realized just how much they had in common, he and Calen had banded together. They moved in with each other their first year, and by the time the second year had started, the bodyguards had been sent home.
“Are you serious? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone,” Sergei said.
“It’s a new relationship, but this girl is special. And I need to lock this down now,” Calen said, offering no other explanation.
“I don’t get it,” Sergei muttered, adjusting his papers as a knock sounded.
Ada popped her head inside, straightening when she saw him at his desk. Tense but trying to cover it, he gestured for her to enter.
“What is your rush?” he continued as she dropped some papers on his desk.
Ada looked a little flushed, but she didn’t say anything or make eye contact as she let herself out. Relaxing slightly when the door shut behind her, he focused on his insane friend.
“I’ll explain when you get here. You will come right?” Calen asked.
Leaning back in his leather chair, Sergei shook his head. “If you’re serious, then yes. I’ll cancel my plans.”
“I am serious. And thanks. I’ll call you with more details later. Liam and Trick have been talking about a bachelor party. They're a little pissed about the short notice. Apparently I’m not giving them enough time to plan.”
Sergei smiled. Even with short notice, the Tyler brothers would throw a bash to remember. Liam and Trick had grown up with Calen, and when they were in need of investors for their now-successful hotel chain, Calen had hooked them up with Sergei. It had been a profitable relationship. Like him, they lived by the work hard, play hard motto.
“I have every confidence in Liam and Trick’s ability to put something together guaranteed to get us arrested,” Sergei replied drily.
Calen groaned. “Don’t put stuff like that out there or you'll jinx me. I’ll call you later. Or Liam will once he decides what to do. Tell him no strippers.”
“Why don’t you tell him? He’s your second best friend,” Sergei growled.
He used to be competitive about Calen’s friendship with the Tyler's, but after spending a lot of time with Liam and Trick, he was more relaxed about it. Enough to joke about it at least.
“I did tell him. But I’m going to need you to tell him, too, ‘cause his hearing gets selective when I say things like that. If he does get strippers and Maia finds out about it, she might not marry me,” Calen said with uncharacteristic earnestness.
“Maia is the mystery woman? How did you meet her? And how the hell did she get a ring out of you already?”
“Later, I promise. Just make sure there aren’t any strippers.”
Sergei sighed and gave in, promising to keep Liam and Trick in line.
It wasn’t really a hardship. Normally, after being rejected by a woman, he would have welcomed a raunchy bachelor party. But after having his lips on Ada’s little pink mouth, the thought of a lap dance made him feel unclean.
Maybe this is growing up, he thought with dissatisfaction. He was almost thirty-four. He was probably overdue to exhibit some sign of maturity.
“All right, thanks a lot брат1,” Calen said before he hung up.
****
Ada was surprised when Sergei buzzed Tim and canceled his plans with Fiona Worth.
“Give her my regrets and send one of my standard apologies,” he said, not bothering to specify why he was breaking the date. “And call my pilot and have him file a flight plan to Boston for Thursday evening.”
“Right away, Mr. Damov,” Tim said, beaming as Sergei clicked off.
“What did he mean by standard apology?” Ada asked, curious despite herself. “Does he send flowers for every broken date?”
“Flowers are for the unwashed masses. Sergei sends jewelry. Bracelets are standard. Sometimes necklaces if they have no charms. No rings. Not ever.”
“Ah. Yeah I can see how a ring would send the wrong message,” she said, smiling at her screen as she typed up an email. “Does he have something in Boston that I should know about?”
Occasionally, Sergei forgot to mention a deal brewing, which meant late hours when she found out about it and had to play catch up.
“No, not that I know of but his best friend is in Boston. Calen McLachlan,” Tim said.
“Really?”
It was hard to picture Sergei with a friend. Girlfriends and starlets, yes. But Ada had always pictured Sergei as a lone wolf. He was too aggressive and dominant to suffer the company of other men—unless they were subordinates like Tim.
“Yes,” Tim said, leaning over with a cautious glance at Sergei’s door. “And he’s one of those McLachlans,” he whispered conspiratorially.
“One of those what?” she asked, looking up from her email.
“Irish mob,” Tim whispered, his eyes glinting.
Ada stopped typing completely. Tim must have seen the surprise on her face, because he rushed to fill in the blanks. “Oh, he’s not a mobster himself. Scuttlebutt says he's totally legit. He owns a string of nightclubs and is supposedly a shrewd investor. Actually, he's got a chunk of Damov Industries stock, enough to be a minority shareholder. But his family is connected.”
“Wow.”
She didn’t know what else to say. It made sense though, in a way. Sergei couldn’t have normal friends. Someone with a regular job as a banker or a lawyer. He employed those people, but she couldn’t see him having dinner or joining one for cocktails. But a mobster’s son who ran a nightclub? Yes, that mental image came easily.
“They must not see each other that much,” she mused, turning her attention back to her screen.
“Oh, they meet up like once a month or every other month. Mostly here in Manhattan or Vegas,” Tim confided, and she nodded.
Sergei spent a lot of time on the road, and Ada usually didn’t accompany him. She only joined him for half of his trips, and only in the last few months since Edith, his old assistant, had retired. Her predecessor hadn’t liked to travel because she suffered from arthritis.
Since Ada was so much younger and less arthritic, he’d changed the habit of years and started to travel with her in tow when a deal called for it. But he still left her at home frequently to hold down the fort while he travelled.
Sergei breezed out of the office on his cell phone, handing Tim an empty coffee cup. “He said no strippers, Trick.”
Tim rushed to the break room to get him a refill, and Ada held her breath. But Sergei didn’t look at her. He didn’t acknowledge her at all, and she relaxed incrementally. Mostly. There was still a nagging, unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. Ignoring it, she put her head down and finished her email.
Tim came back with the coffee and Sergei swept back into his office without a glance her way. Taking his seat Tim grinned at her the way he always did, and she smiled back...but it was a little weak.
****
Ada climbed up the stairs of the private jet with a heavy heart. A month had passed since Sergei had kissed her. A month since she’d been in his arms. Since then, working for him had become more and more uncomfortable. And it wasn’t because of anything he said or did. He acted like nothing had ever happened...and he did it a lot better than she did.
She, on the other hand, could no longer look at him with her usual aloof detachment. Something had changed. Before he had just been her boss. An incredibly demanding one, but still just a boss. Now he was a man. A man who'd kissed her. It was the most intimacy she’d experienced in a long time.
She’d always known Sergei was attractive. He was tall and muscular with deep brown hair and eyes so dark they looked black. His face was more rugged than handsome, but it was perfectly symmetrical with lips hinting at fullness and chiseled cheekbones. His looks rivaled models on magazine covers, the kind that would advertise outdoor gear.
But before the kiss, his sexual appeal had been a distant thing, something she could see without having it touch her—she couldn't afford to let it. Now she was hyperaware of his every move, even when she couldn’t see him. He could be in the next room, and she knew where he was standing or when he was about to walk out to leave papers on her desk.
Sleep was a thing of the past.
Niko and his team took their usual seats in the front near the cabin door while the rest of them made their way to the back conference area so they could work. Ada sat in the plush reclining leather chair opposite Sergei with Tim on her left in his usual spot. There was a small bedroom in the back where the boss slept on long trips.
They were on their way to Rome to finalize Sergei’s latest acquisition. Damov Industries was buying a small Italian manufacturer of gourmet foods. Sergei had grown fond of their specialty products while vacationing in Italy the previous year, and now he was planning on exporting them worldwide to select high-end grocers.
“Tim, call the hotel and make sure they have given me my preferred suite,” Sergei ordered. “And have tomorrow’s dinner meeting changed to a lunch. I want to be free for dinner.”
In her seat, Ada tensed imperceptibly. Sergei hadn’t gone on any dates since his best friend’s wedding had interrupted his plans. According to Tim, there were times when Sergei didn’t date much, usually when a big deal was in the works. And other than Ivanka and Fiona Worth, there hadn’t been any woman since Ada started working for him. But his latest deal was nearing completion, and clearly he was getting ready to resume his normal social life.
Slightly sick to her stomach, Ada turned on her tablet and pretended to work on her latest project—a report on a biofuels startup. Realization set in.
I have to leave sooner than I thought.
Chapter 3
Sergei stood up with a satisfied sigh. The meeting had gone well, and everything had been finished ahead of schedule. The contracts were signed, and now he had a whole forty-eight hours free in one of his favorite cities. Too bad Giancarlo was out of town.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Ada pack up their things. She had been flawless as usual. Her Italian wasn’t half-bad either. He hadn’t even known she spoke the language until this trip. Leaning over, she unplugged his tablet’s charger, her firm heart-shaped backside tempting him to reach out and touch.
Stifling the urge, Sergei watched Ada as she stood up again and absently wiped her forehead with her sleeve. Other women didn’t do that. They would have been afraid of getting makeup on their clothes. But Ada never wore any. At the end of the day, her skin got a little shiny, something the women he dated would never let happen. They would be powdered to a satiny finish 24/7. But he liked Ada’s natural look more.
She wasn’t flashy, but she was beautiful in a quiet, understated way. Her blue eyes contrasted with her dark hair, making them look brighter and bluer. And she always had a natural pink tinge in her cheeks.
“We should celebrate.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think better of it. Ada looked up, surprised. But the mistake was already made. “You said you hadn’t traveled much outside the states when you started working for me. We should hit the town. Some of the best restaurants in the world are in this city,” he added temptingly.
“Uh...”
Shit. She was going to say no. She probably had plans—with Tim. His other assistant’s crush had only gotten worse lately, and Sergei had the sneaking suspicion he was finally wearing Ada down.
“Okay,” she said finally, then paused for a moment. “Shall I call Tim?”
“I think he has plans,” Sergei said. “Let’s head back to the hotel and change. Do you have a dress?”
Ada glanced down at her practical wool suit and nodded. “I have one,” she said, sounding less sure now.
She’d probably assumed Tim was going to be available to join them.
“Excellent. Let’s go,” he said, ushering her out before she could change her mind.
****
Ada pulled on her little black dress with trepidation. How had this happened? Sergei’s invitation had caught her completely off guard. She’d said yes without thinking, assuming she was tagging along while he had dinner with some of his friends, or that Tim would be there. But he’d made it clear in the car that they would be alone when he’d called a restaurant and made reservations for two in passable Italian.
She almost jumped out of her skin when a knock sounded on the door. Old instincts flared to life, and she looked around for a handy weapon. Sergei had said he would send a car for her promptly at eight, and she wasn’t expecting anyone else. Snatching up the luggage rack, she walked up to the door in bare feet. Peering cautiously through the peephole, she relaxed with a shaky sigh. She put the luggage rack down and opened the door.
“Hi, Tim. Did you change your mind about joining us?” she asked in a hopeful voice.
Tim was standing there in his casual clothes, dark slacks and a fashionable sweater vest. He was dressed like the quintessential hipster he was outside of office hours. And he was staring a hole through her. He looked at her in her little black dress, his usual earnest cheerfulness nowhere in sight.
“Don’t go.”
“What?”
“I said don’t go,” Tim said, pushing his way into the room.
Frowning, Ada stared at him. “Yeah, I heard that part. But why?”
Tim put his hands on her shoulders in a jerky motion. “I just found out about this date. The restaurant called to confirm Sergei’s arrival time, and Niko told me it was you he was taking. You can’t go. You don’t know—you never see.”
“It’s not a date. And just what don’t I see?” she asked, pulling away.
She tried to remind herself that this was her friend, but having his hands on her that way made her feel constricted.
“You don’t see the way Sergei looks at you when you’re not looking. This won’t end well,” he said severely.
Completely taken aback, Ada just stared at him. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she found her voice. “He just wants to celebrate the deal. I actually thought you were coming.”
“No, he knew I had plans to meet up with friends. But you should already know this deal is pretty small by his standards. It was more a whim of his than anything else, ‘cause he likes the Dolcetto products. He didn’t celebrate when he bought that Silicon Valley start-up, and that was a much bigger deal. Why would he celebrate such a small acquisition?” Tim asked, throwing up his hands dramatically. “It’s an excuse. He just wants to get you alone. Going out with him is a bad idea. It was okay before because he obviously hadn’t done anything. But he has now, hasn’t he? You’ve been tense around him for weeks. He made a pass at you, didn’t he?”
Ada didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to talk about that kiss. “Not really. Everything’s fine.”
“Not really? What does not really mean?”
Another knock saved her from answering. She dived for the door and was surprised to see Niko standing there.
“Ms. Turner, are you ready?” Niko asked, his thick Russian accent chopping up the words.
“Err, uh, yes,” Ada said, turning to put on her shoes and grabbing her coat. Once ready, she headed for the door. “Tim, I need to lock up. Have fun with your friends, okay?”
Tim just shook his head and followed her out. Before they got to the elevator, he pulled her aside. “Just be careful. He always gets what he wants, and he wants you. Don’t let him charm you. In the end, he’ll eat you alive.”
He stalked back in the direction of his room before she could think of a reply. Frowning, she joined Niko in the elevator. It was probably her imagination, but she thought he looked a little sorry for her.
****
A few hours and almost two bottles of wine later, Ada decided that Tim had blown everything out of proportion. There had been nothing to worry about. The world was beautiful and everything had a fuzzy warm glow around it. Rome was magical. And her boss was actually fun. He’d been perfect company the whole night.
Sergei took her to his favorite restaurant at the top of a small high rise. One entire wall of windows had a spectacular view of the Colosseum, lit up for the night. Ada had to stop herself from running to take a closer look, but the effusive host seated them directly in front of the window.
Sergei watched her expression closely as she stared dreamily at the ancient monument and the Palatine Hill behind it, before proceeding to distract her with a steady stream of small talk. He told her the most fascinating stories about the ancient Romans, while pouring generous glasses of a deep red Italian wine. Her anxiety melted away the more she drank, though she still had the wherewithal to deflect his more personal questions.
He must have realized she didn’t want to talk about herself, because he soon launched into a series of anecdotes about himself and his friends. Their collective antics in college had her choking on wine, trying not to laugh. She questioned him about his friend Calen’s wedding, and he volunteered all the details.
“So he rescued a damsel in distress, and she just happens to be his soul mate?” she asked in disbelief, her jaded, natural-self showing through despite the alcohol.
Or more likely because of it.
“I see it actually. He’s crazy about her. And soul mates come around when you least expect them,” Sergei said, surprising her.
Ada made a face at him, and he laughed.
He leaned back in his chair with a smile. “I never realized what a pessimist you are.”
“And I never realized what a little Mary Sunshine you were,” Ada replied with the tiniest slur creeping into her voice.
“You’re just so warm at work. Such a people person. I would have thought someone like you would have found the story romantic. Don’t you believe in soul mates?”
“It was romantic,” she admitted. “But also not surprising. Two compatible people were put in a difficult situation and the expected happened.”
She wrinkled her nose at a sudden realization—and it wasn’t that her face was numb. If Sergei thought of her as warm, then she had gotten too comfortable at work. A professional distance was crucial.
Maybe Uncle Geoffrey was right. She’d been working for Damov Industries too long. Reaching for her wine glass, she lifted it to her lips, only to find it empty.
“May as well kill this bottle,” Sergei said, his accent so thick she could barely understand him now.
He poured the rest of the bottle in her wine glass. Without pausing to take a breath, she drank it down and put the glass in the middle of her full dessert plate.
Sergei laughed, but then his gaze froze somewhere beyond her. Twisting, she turned around to see Niko. The bodyguard was stationed at a table with a clear line of sight to their table, and he was frowning at them.
When she turned back to Sergei, he looked less jovial. He took her by the arm and guided her up. Ada got to her feet unsteadily, letting out an uncharacteristic giggle as they made their way to the door.
“There’s something wrong with the floor,” she said as they walked out of the restaurant.
The effects of the alcohol were more obvious now that she was on her feet. Sergei reached out to grab her as she swayed away from him. He took hold of her hand and pulled her closer in to his side, which felt very warm compared to the cool night air.
“No, angel, there’s something wrong with you. Come here,” he murmured.
Drawn in tightly against him, she held on as he ushered her into the waiting car.
****
Sergei avoided Niko’s dark glance as he guided Ada into the backseat. He shut the door behind him and was surprised with a sudden rush of warmth. His reserved and professional assistant had closed the space between them to cuddle against him like a cat.
“Ada?”
“Hmm,” she murmured sleepily from somewhere just under his chin.
“Nothing,” he said quietly, inhaling deeply.
Her hair smelled like jasmine and vanilla. As if his arm had a mind of his own, it drifted down around her to stroke the bare skin of her arm. It was cold, and she had goosebumps. She really should have brought a coat.
If we go home, I need to buy her a fur. Frowning at the turn of his thoughts, Sergei shook his head to clear it. He didn’t want to go to Omsk. And he certainly didn’t want to take Ada there.
Glancing at her drowsy face, he drew her a little closer as the car sped down the darkened streets. It was going too fast. He was tempted to tell his driver to slow down so he could savor this stolen moment a little longer. But the gods were against him, and they got to the hotel in record time.
It wasn’t fast enough for Ada. She had fallen asleep. Sergei didn’t have the heart to wake her, so he picked her up and carried her to the door of the private entrance. Niko wisely said nothing until they got to the elevator.
“Shall I take Ms. Turner to her room?” he offered in Russian.
The private elevator didn’t go to Ada and Tim’s floor. It only went to the penthouse and luxury suites in the high rise hotel. He didn’t want to embarrass his assistant by carrying her through the front door.
“There’s a spare bedroom in my suite. It will be fine,” he finally said, avoiding looking at Niko directly.
He could feel his security chief’s disapproval boring a hole on the back of his neck as he walked to his suite, but he shook it off. Niko opened the door, and Sergei entered his rooms with Ada in his arms. He dismissed the security team and laid his very drunk PA on the couch so he could open the double doors to the extra bedroom. When he turned back, she was stirring, struggling to sit up.
****
Ada drifted awake in confusion. She was lying on a plush dark blue couch covered in a sumptuous soft fabric. Sitting up, she saw an unfamiliar room. There was a bar with a neat configuration of bottles to her right and an eight-person dining room table on the left.
Where was she?
“Hey,” Sergei murmured, coming into view.
He reached for a water bottle from the bar and sat down next to her, his handsome face drifting in and out of focus.
“I’m thirsty,” she croaked, her mouth drier than sandpaper.
“I thought you would be,” he said, his accent still thicker than usual.
She had to focus very hard to make out his words. Sergei opened the water bottle and handed it to her. He sat next to her, brushing her hair away from her eyes. Her once neat bun had collapsed and her hair fell below her shoulders in loose waves. She gulped the entire bottle down in one go. A little water escaped her lips and dribbled down her chin and chest.
“Oh god I needed that,” she said, absently wiping her chin.
Sergei laughed and moved to help her. Reaching out a little unsteadily, he wiped the water that had fallen on her exposed décolletage.
Surprised by the warmth of his hand on her bare chest, Ada froze and stared down at it. She looked up to see Sergei with a similar look of surprise on his face...but he didn’t move his hand. Knowing she needed to put a stop to this, she reached up to move it, but instead she just ended up covering his hand with her own, both just over her heart.
****
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