Chapter 5 #2
“Yes?”
“I want you to know that your work today was good, not just competent or adequate.”
My cheeks flush as I feel flustered for the praise, which is silly. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”
He gives me a tiny smile that’s gone almost as soon as it appears. “It should. I don’t give empty compliments.”
I smile slightly in return. “I noticed that. You’re not exactly effusive with praise.”
“No, I’m not, but when I say something, I mean it.”
“Good to know.”
He stands up from his chair and moves to sit on the edge of the coffee table, bringing him closer to where I’m curled on the couch. “I also want you to know Katya’s comments tonight had nothing to do with your performance and everything to do with her own insecurities.”
“She’s your fiancée. She has a right to be concerned about who you’re working with.” I say the words but don’t know if I mean them. They’re expected, but she’d only be insecure if she has feelings for him, right?
He’s frowning again. “She has a right to many things. Being rude to my employees isn’t one of them.”
“It’s fine, really.” I wave a hand dismissively. “I’ve dealt with difficult people before.”
His tone carries an edge of anger that surprises me. “It’s not fine. You deserve to be treated with respect.”
His name slips out before I can stop myself, more intimate than the “Mr. Barinov” I’ve been carefully maintaining. “Yarik...”
“Yes?”
“Why did you really hire me for this position? Don’t say it’s because I handled the irrigation problem well. There has to be more to it than that.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, studying me in the firelight. When he speaks, his voice is quiet. “When I look at you, I don’t see someone who wants something from me. You look at me like I’m just a man, not a name or a fortune or a steppingstone to something else.”
I’m perplexed and frown. “You are just a man.”
Another smile appears before fading. “No, I’m not. I haven’t been just a man for a very long time.”
I arch a brow. “Then what are you?”
“I’m a position, a responsibility, and a set of obligations and expectations that never end.” He pauses. “However, when I’m with you, I remember what it felt like to be a person instead of just a role.”
The admission makes my chest tight with emotions I don’t want to name. “Yarik, you’re engaged to someone else.”
“Yes, I am.”
I nibble on my lower lips. “And I work for you.”
“Yes, you do.”
“So this conversation probably shouldn’t be happening.” I sigh as I say that, knowing it needs to be said but wishing we could just lose ourselves in this moment.
“Probably not.”
Despite his agreement, neither of us moves to end it. Instead, he reaches out and touches my hand where it rests on the towel. His fingers are warm and sure, and I don’t pull away. His voice is quiet, almost hesitant. “Sarah?”
“Yes?”
“I want to kiss you.”
The words send heat shooting through me, and for a moment I can’t breathe. “That’s a bad idea.”
He immediately agrees. “Terrible idea.”
“It would complicate everything.” Rather than sounding strong, my voice is almost enticing.
He huffs lightly in something that might pass for a brief, harsh laugh. “Everything is already complicated.”
I look into his eyes and see the same want and confusion I’m feeling. This is madness, but something about this moment feels inevitable. I hear myself say, “Just once?” The voice of reason is screaming at the back of my mind, but I can barely hear it.
He leans toward me slowly, giving me time to change my mind or pull away. “Just once.”
I don’t do either. Instead, I meet him halfway, and when his lips touch mine, the rest of the world disappears.
The kiss starts tentatively but quickly deepens into something hungrier.
He tastes like coffee and something darker, and when he cups the back of my neck, I make a sound that’s part sigh and part surrender.
This is what I’ve been trying not to think about since the moment he caught me falling by the pool. There’s no denying the attraction between us, and I’m letting go of all pretenses in the moment.
He rests his other hand on my waist through the towel, and I lean into him, forgetting every reason this is a mistake. The kiss becomes more urgent and demanding, making me respond without thinking about consequences or complications.
When he breaks away to trail kisses along my jaw and down my neck, I arch into him, fisting my hands in his shirt. Everything about this feels right despite being completely wrong.
“Sarah.” My name sounds different when he says it like that, all rough and full of wanting.
“I know, Yarik.”
“This is—” He trails off to kiss my neck again.
“Crazy. Impossible. A terrible idea.” I pull back to look at him, noting the way his careful composure has completely shattered. “All of the above.”
“Yes.” He’s already leaning in to kiss me again, and I’m already tilting my face up to meet him. This time, the kiss is deeper and more desperate. I’m starting to lose the ability to think clearly.
He edges his hands to the end of the towel without being pushy or demanding. The just rest there like a question. The touch sends electricity through me, and for an instant, I consider letting this go wherever it wants to go.
Then reality crashes back in.
I put my hands on his chest and push gently but firmly. “Stop. We have to stop.”
He pulls back immediately, his breathing unsteady. “Sarah?—”
“You’re getting married.” I stand up quickly, clutching the towel around myself. “This can’t happen.”
“The engagement isn’t?—”
“Isn’t what? Real? Binding? It doesn’t matter what kind of arrangement it is. You’re committed to someone else, and I won’t be the other woman.”
He shoves the hair off his forehead that got disheveled during our exchange, looking as shaken as I feel. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”
“We both shouldn’t have.” I grab my clothes from where I left them and head toward the changing area. “I need to go.”
“Sarah, wait.”
I turn back to look at him, noting the regret and something else in his expression. “This was a mistake, Yarik. It can’t happen again.”
“I know.”
I make my tone even firmer. “I mean it. I need this job, and I can’t afford to complicate things.”
He sounds regretful but doesn’t hesitate. “I understand.”
“Good.” With that, I rush back to the changing area, slipping off the suit and my own clothes as quickly as I can, planning to shower at home, and leave the pool house without looking back. I can feel him watching me go, and it’s both reassuring and unsettling.
The drive home passes in a blur of conflicting emotions and second-guessing, and by the time I reach my apartment, I’ve convinced myself what just happened was a momentary lapse in judgment brought on by stress and proximity.
Nina is either out or having a really early night, so I slip into my room quietly in case she’s sleeping and try to process what just happened.
I kissed my boss. My engaged boss. Despite knowing it was wrong and understanding all the reasons it can’t happen again, part of me is already hoping it will.
Which makes me either very stupid or very much in trouble.
Possibly both.