Devil's Lair (Molotov Obsession #1) - Anna Zaires Page 0,22

stay for a drink?”

I want to take the words back as soon as they leave my mouth, but it’s too late. A sardonic smile appears on his face, and he tips his head to one side, indolently swirling the cognac inside his glass. “Why do you think?”

“I don’t…” I wet my lips. “I don’t know.”

“But if you had to venture a guess?”

My heartbeat kicks up higher. There’s no way I can say what I’m thinking. If I’m wrong, this will go very poorly for me. In fact, I don’t see how this could go well for me. If I’m right and he’s attracted to me, that opens an enormous can of worms. And if I imagined it—

“Don’t overthink it, zaychik.” His voice is deceptively gentle. “This isn’t one of your school exams.”

Right. And I’d much rather it were—because then the only thing I’d have to worry about is a failing grade. The stakes are infinitely higher here. If I get this wrong, if I upset him, I could lose the job, and with it, any hope of safety.

Out there, beyond the confines of this estate, are monsters hunting me, and in here is a man who may be just as dangerous… and not just because he seems to enjoy playing this sadistic little game with me.

“What does that mean?” I ask cautiously. “Zay-something?”

“Zaychik?” Darkness glimmers in his smile. “It means little hare. A Russian endearment of sorts.”

My face heats, my pulse taking on an uneven rhythm. The odds that I’m wrong are decreasing by the moment, and that makes me even more nervous. I’m no virgin, but I’ve never dated anyone remotely like this man. My boyfriends in college were precisely that—boys who started off as my friends—and I have no idea how to handle this dangerously magnetic stranger who’s also my boss.

And who may be in the mafia.

It’s the last thought that brings much needed clarity to the contradictory tangle of emotions in my head.

Steadying my jangling nerves, I rise to my feet. “Thank you for the dinner and the drink. If you don’t mind, I’ll go to bed now. Alina’s right—it’s been a long day.”

For two long heartbeats, he doesn’t say anything, just watches me with that mocking smile, and my anxiety spikes, my stomach tying itself into knots. But then he sets down his glass and says softly, “Sleep well, Chloe. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

And just like that, I’m free—and equal parts relieved and disappointed.

12

Nikolai

I toss and turn for two hours, trying to fall asleep, but nothing happens. Finally, I give up and just lie there, staring at the dark ceiling, my muscles tight and my cock hard and aching despite the relief I gave it with my fist.

What is it about this girl that’s getting to me? Her looks? The mystery she represents? It was all I could do to let her go this evening, to back off and allow her to go to bed instead of reaching across the table to pull her to me.

What would she have done if I’d acted on that impulse?

Would she have stiffened, screamed… or would she have melted against me, her brown eyes turning soft and hazy, her lips parting for my kiss?

Swearing under my breath, I get up, throw on a robe, and walk over to my computer. It’s late morning in Moscow, so I might as well catch up with my brothers on some business.

Anything is better than dwelling on Chloe and the frustrating ache in my balls.

Konstantin doesn’t pick up my video call, so I try Valery. My younger brother answers right away, his face as smooth and expressionless as always. Despite the four-year difference between us, we look enough alike to be mistaken for twins—and often are, along with our older brother, Konstantin, and our cousin, Roman.

Molotov genes are a potent, toxic thing.

“Missing us already?” Valery’s tone betrays nothing of his emotions—if he has any, that is. It’s possible my brother feels as little as he shows. I’ve never seen him lose his temper, even as a child, and I’ve certainly never seen him cry. Then again, I was away at boarding school throughout most of his childhood, so I can’t claim to be a Valery expert.

We’re not close, my brothers and I; our father had ensured that.

“Did you get the sign-off on the manufacturing plant?” I ask in lieu of a reply. “Or is that still pending?”

Valery regards me with an unblinking stare. “It’s on the President’s desk as we speak. He promised