Trouble: An Alpha Billionaire Romance by Lane, Ellen (4)

Chapter 4 - Diametrically Opposed

 

“The gall. The fucking unmitigated gall…” Charlotte paced back and forth through the kitchen restlessly, anger driving her steps. “How dare he!”

Lila, who was sitting at the table not three feet from her friend, winced. “Calm down. You’ve been pacing for half an hour. If you’re not careful you’re going to wear a hole in the tile.”

“He was an asshole, Lila!” Charlotte continued, almost as if she hadn’t heard the blonde. “He told me that he needed to speak to Jackson to be sure that he’d made the right decision. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Lila winced. “I’ll admit, it doesn’t sound good.”

“Of course it fucking doesn’t! He’s threatening me, Lila! Me and all I’ve worked for! How could he think...how could he want…” Charlotte trailed off, words completely deserting her. For the first time in her life, she found herself at an absolute loss to find a statement that adequately described how she felt.

Like something had been dangled in front of her and snatched away before she’d really even had a chance to nurture it. Both betrayed and more pissed off than she could ever remember being.

And, atop that, she was mad at herself. Because even after all the man had said to her - the imperious way he’d gazed down his nose at her, knowing that he held her very future in his hands, she was hurt he’d so easily brushed her off.

Why the hell should she care about the approval of a man like that?

“Lottie, I’m going to need you to take a deep breath for me.” Lila, ever calm, raised her hands in an attempt to get Charlotte to focus on something beside her anger. “Deep breath, ok?” For a moment, the redhead merely glared at her. Her braid had come undone, her lipstick had smeared, and the moment she got home she had unzipped the skirt that was all but choking her waistline. She knew that she had to look an absolute mess and the last thing she wanted at that particular moment was to breathe.

But Lila was trying to help. That was all Lila ever tried to do and Charlotte knew, from experience, that if she blew up on one of the only people that understood her in the heat of the moment, she’d regret it.

So, she forced herself to take a breath. In for a full five seconds, and then out. “Good.” Lila directed her in another breath. “Let’s go again.”

Charlotte felt rather like a petulant child being disciplined, but she obeyed. Unsurprisingly, after a few more breaths, she began to feel slightly calmer. There was, of course, still a hot river of anger and outrage coursing through her just below the skin, but she didn’t feel like she was about to destroy their kitchen anymore.

“Better?” Lila ventured cautiously, just before the elder woman dropped into a chair across from her.

“Yeah, slightly,” Charlotte croaked, before tugging free the remains of her braid. As her hair resumed its previous wild tangle of curls, Lila gave her a small smile.

“If you want to take your clothes off and stomp around the house, I completely understand.”

Charlotte snorted. “What I want to do is call Vladimir fucking Kensley and give him a piece of my mind.”

Lila sighed, taking a sip of the hot tea she’d made for herself. “I wouldn’t advise it. Especially since nothing has actually happened yet.

Charlotte eyed her incredulously. “So, him insulting me is nothing?”

Lila hurried to placate her before she could get amped up again. “He did insult you. I’m not saying that was ok. What I am saying is that we’ve already established the Vladimir isn’t the one with the last say where this building is concerned, is he? That’s his father’s call. And you haven’t heard anything from Jackson, have you?”

Charlotte opened her mouth, a retort on the tip of her tongue -before she realized that her roommate was absolutely right. She’d left Vladimir’s office in a full-blown rage almost eight hours ago - plenty of time for the man to do all he promised - to call his father and rant and rave about Charlotte’s design.

But Jackson hadn’t contacted her to tell her she needed to change anything. And, despite her anxiety, there was no hint of him firing her.

Which meant that the project was still on - for now.

The realization made her feel a little bit better - at least the part of her that was concerned for her job security. For the entire afternoon, Charlotte wondered if she had made a mistake- if she would have to go groveling back to her old architecture firm for a job after Kensley rejected her - but it appeared that nothing that serious had happened yet.

So, instead, she was left with the slightly lesser wrath of a woman spurned.

Exhaling hotly, Charlotte leaned against the table, eying Lila apologetically. “I really am off my rocker, aren’t I?” She inquired lowly, by way of apology.

The blonde smirked. “Completely - but you’re perfectly entitled to get mad. Everyone gets mad. Hell, I’d be pissed if someone insulted my artistic creativity. Trust me, I’m not arguing with you: Vladimir Kensley is a huge douchebag. But he hasn’t won, babe. Not by a long shot.”

Her words drew a small smile from Charlotte. “I guess not.”

Lila chuckled softly. Now that the tension between them had diffused, she was far quicker with her smiles. “I take it there was no seduction involved if you come home like this.”

Charlotte made a face. The last thing she wanted, at this particular juncture, was to seduce the man. She was pretty sure that her feelings for Vladimir had gone from lukewarm enthusiasm to downright hatred…. but if that was the case, why couldn’t she get over the little inkling of irritation that he had so easily rejected her. Would things have gone any better if she had flashed her boobs and batted her eyelashes?

Somehow, Vladimir didn’t occur to her as the type of man who was easily swayed by physical gestures.

And she certainly wasn’t that type of women. Though, if she was...it would certainly be a man like the younger Kensley who tested the limits of her self-control…

“Have they given you a date for the ground-breaking?” Lila’s question brought her back to the present issue, and Charlotte sighed, shaking her head.

“Not yet - but it’s supposed to be sometime in the next two weeks.”

“Can I give you a bit of advice?” Lila asked gently - carefully. Charlotte eyed her warily.

“I’m not sucking up to him. If he doesn’t like me, he doesn’t like me. I sure as hell don’t like him.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Lila replied with a barely hidden smile of amusement. “I was just going to suggest that you be polite. You two are bound to run into one another sooner or later whether at the groundbreaking or before - and it would help you if you were just polite. You are going to be working together, after all.”

“Yeah, if Jackson doesn’t fire me,” Charlotte rebutted under her breath in a resentful murmur.

“He’s not going to fire you,” Lila groaned in exasperation. “You said it yourself: Jackson Kensley knows what he wants, and if he wants your design, the building is going to constructed using your design. That’s all there is to it.”

At that point, Benny poked his head from the bedroom. He had come over to bring Lila some of her favorite sushi and decided to stay to nap before his evening shift. When he arrived a few hours earlier, he had taken one look at Charlotte’s enraged form and fled to Lila’s bedroom.

Now, the redhead greeted him with a sheepish smile. “Hi, Benny. I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Hey, no problem.” The doctor yawned, stretching his lean form and scratching his stomach as he ventured into the kitchen to look for the remains of the sushi. “I know how it is. Big contract and all.”

“The biggest,” Lila corrected, unable to help a smile as he bent to kiss her on the cheek. “She’s stressed, Ben. She didn’t mean it.”

“Hey, I don’t ask.” He held up his hands defensively with a grin. “As long as my head stays right where it is, I will do whatever I need to, to get out of the way.”

Charlotte flushed slightly in embarrassment. Before she could apologize again, however, Lila spoke again. “Actually, maybe there’s a way you could help, Ben.”

“Lay it on me.” He ran a hand through thick brunette curls as he rifled through the fridge. The blonde looked to Charlotte for a brief moment, as if asking her permission, before she continued. “Do you have any advice for this guy? I mean, I know you’re completely different people, but maybe you can give us a guy’s insight to what he’s thinking.”

“I’ll do my best.” Benjamin nudged the fridge closed with a thigh, turning back to them with a carton of juice and the sushi leftovers in hand. “But I need the lowdown on what happened. Is that ok?” He looked to Charlotte in cautious inquiry and she nodded. Though her first impulse was to believe there was nothing anyone could say about Vladimir Kensley that would make her view him as anything other than an incorrigible asshole, Benny was one of the few men she held in very high regard. If he wanted to shed some light on the situation, she supposed she wouldn’t be opposed.

Lila gave her lover the quick and dirty version and Ben listened in silence, nodding every so often. When the blonde finished, he was silent for a long moment before he answered hesitantly.

“Look, I’m a doctor - I have no idea what it’s like to run a multi-billion-dollar company, but if it’s anything like the stress of having people’s lives in your hands, I can imagine that, in some ways, he’s almost as frazzled as you are, Charlotte.” When her eyes narrowed dangerously, Benny hurried to continue before her ire could flare anew. “I’m not defending him, I’m just saying that you’re both probably under a lot of pressure - you just handle it differently. I don’t know much about this guy…” He took a swig of juice,” But from what I read in the papers, he’s not the best people person. Maybe just...don’t go into your next meeting on the warpath. If he has a heart at all, he will have realized he might have made a faux pas saying what he said.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Charlotte returned, a slight edge to her voice.

Ben shrugged. “Then you have my full permission to shank him when he’s not looking - only don’t tell the cops that when they arrest you.” Lila stifled a snort of amusement and even Charlotte found herself smiling slightly.

Well, if she had his permission…

But that wasn’t what it was really about. If she was going to be able to work with Vladimir Kensley at all, she was going to have to find a bit of tolerance somewhere - and with her career on the line, she was forced to admit that both Lila and Benny had valid points. She would have to curb her temper - and the next time she came face to face with her would-be employer, she would have to have the best poker face on the planet.

Or else.

 

**

Barely a week passed before Vlad was forced to admit that Charlotte Gardner had been right. Even though his talk with Lucas had encouraged him to try to see things more from her perspective, that hadn’t kept him from calling his father to discuss the design he’d decided upon for the Los Angeles building.

The conversation had been slightly awkward, to be sure. Though it was clear Jackson had expected his son to be surprised by the uniqueness of the design, he clearly hadn’t expected him to question him on it, and Vlad found himself scrambling to make it sound as if he had another reason for calling. It was clear within a week of Vlad’s first meeting with Charlotte that the groundbreaking was going on as planned.

And she had probably gotten wind of it as well. Of course, Charlotte hadn’t contacted him since the day of their falling out - and he hadn’t really expected her to. If anything, he should have been the one to call her with some semblance of an apology - but Vladimir had his pride. Besides, he knew he had his work cut out for him when they met again. He would have to somehow regain her trust if he didn’t expect this project to be a complete debacle.

Vlad followed his brother’s advice, doing all he could to research Charlotte, her work, and her methodologies. He found himself surprised that, despite the strange nature of her work, she was an up and coming name in the West Coast architecture field. Vlad supposed he shouldn’t be too shocked. Just because he found her work rather unorthodox didn’t mean that other people shared his opinion. It made sense that those on the west coast had a rather more open opinion of what defined the inside and outside of the box of conventionalism.

The moment he caught himself in that particular thought, he exhaled a long breath. Vlad caught himself many times over the past week lying in bed as he grappled with his opinion of Charlotte Gardner and her work.

On the one hand, he had never seen building designs like hers, and he wasn’t inclined to believe their outlandish nature would make construction easier. On the other hand, he had to admire her drive. As she had once told him, he wasn’t the first to think her work strange - and he wouldn’t be the last. The fact hadn’t seemed to cow Charlotte - offend her, certainly, but she hadn’t been intimidated by him. She had, in fact, taken her plans and sauntered off before he could investigate them more closely.

But that hadn’t been a problem. Once the plans were revealed, Jackson Kensley had no problem sending his son copies to look over.

If Vladimir thought that he might see more reason in the designs upon his second perusal, he was wrong. He was just as hard pressed to see why his father had chosen the design as he was the first time Charlotte had laid the blueprints out on the table before him.

Was he missing something? Something that everyone else but him could easily discern? Somehow, he didn’t think that was the case.

He tried to reassure himself in his insistence that he had no problem with the architect at all, but with the plans themselves.

As he showered on the morning of the groundbreaking ceremony, Vlad kept seeing Charlotte’s sharp expression - the way her cheeks had colored and her full mouth pinched into a tight line - in his mind’s eye. Even when she was angry, she was unspeakably gorgeous - as lovely in a pencil skirt and crisp white button up as she was in a loose green dress with her hair in disarray. Precisely why he was so attracted to her when she was like no woman he’d ever been with was beyond him.

Vladimir wasn’t used to his urges reigning over him. He’d never met a woman that he’d been unable to make rational decisions about - one whose sheer presence had clouded his judgement. While he wouldn’t say that Charlotte being in his office had made a huge impact on his reaction to her plans, the fact that she was so often on his mind almost two weeks later spoke volumes.

There was something about her...something he couldn’t put his finger on.

And it was driving him up the wall.

Part of him had hoped that, somewhere in his research, he would find the answer. While he had discovered a wealth of information about Charlotte herself, he found nothing to justify his inexplicable attraction to her. She had been raised by her father after her mother died, and had been through just about every gifted program that her town had to offer. Soon after graduating high school at the top of her class, she had gone to Berkeley for her undergraduate degree in design before heading to architecture school. From there, the waves she made had only grown until she reached her current position.

Designing for Kensley Enterprises - no small feat for a woman so young.

If nothing else, she deserved his respect, Vlad knew - and he would do his utmost best to be warm with her when they met. He promised himself that, if they were to work together on this project, then he was going to have to get to know her.

To understand her.

That was the only way they were ever going to see eye to eye. Now, the question was: was she going to allow him to get to know her? He knew he himself would be more than reticent if someone had insulted him the way he’d insulted her -however inadvertently.

Vladimir supposed he would find out soon enough.

As always, he dressed meticulously. He had always favored three piece suits where his father favored two piece, which amused Jackson immensely. His mother, however, had long complimented him on his dress sense. Insanely, Vladimir found himself wondering what kind of suits Charlotte Garner liked to see a man in.

He had to be losing his mind.

It was a brilliant early spring day - though Vlad didn’t know if he had ever found the weather in LA to be anything other than brilliant. In New York, he knew there might still be a chance of snow, but on the west coast, it was a balmy seventy degrees.

This time, when he left his hotel to the acclaim of multiple media outlets, he was fully prepared to shut them out. Vladimir made a beeline for the waiting car and slipped inside moments before the driver sped off towards downtown LA.  The ceremony was set to take place around ten in the morning, which meant that he’d be a good hour so early.

Thanks to the heavy security that encircled the site, he would almost certainly be able to get an eyeful of the lay of the land before people started to gather - and that was what he was after.

As they drove through the wide streets and he took in the numerous skyscrapers and office buildings, he marveled at how different the west coast was from the east coast. Besides the Kensley Manor, Manhattan was the only place he had ever thought of as home - and, despite Ethan’s teasing prodding, he couldn’t imagine relocating to LA. Things were so different here...the way places were spread out, the pace of life...if anything, it was the exact opposite of Manhattan, and that put him on edge.

Vladimir liked being in control - a character flaw he couldn’t control.

So when he arrived at the building site and found it already occupied, he was slightly perturbed. It only took him a moment, however, to realize that his company happened to be the object of his frustrations.

Charlotte Garner had arrived before him. Once he stepped out of the car, Vlad did a double take - but there was no mistaking her. All that fiery hair and that tall, lovely figure - today she wore a cream-colored dress that covered slender legs along with a navy colored blazer - and she looked like no architect he’d ever interacted with.

In fact, for a split second, Vlad was pretty sure it should be illegal that he was slotted to work with a woman as breathtakingly beautiful as she was. His father hadn’t thought to mention that when he sent Vlad all the way across the country - he hadn’t even mentioned how thoroughly different this project would be from any his son had ever tackled before.

But that was just like his father. Trust Jackson to test him without giving him so much as a hint to the nature of the test. Though, he had to admit, describing Charlotte Gardner in and of herself was quite the challenge - even if his Dad had attempted to define her, he doubted he would have understood.

He had hoped to come to the construction site early to get a little perspective on things, but now he found himself dealing with Charlotte far sooner than he might have anticipated. Part of him wanted to get back in the car and wait for the board to start arriving, but ultimately, Vladimir decided to put his best foot forward.

Better to talk to her now, when there was no one else around to watch him flounder, after all.

He checked that security around the building site was in place before stepping over the ropes and into a space that used to be a wide courtyard. The property they meant to use had actually been an old theater and courtyard about seventy years prior, and had never been renovated. It was still lovely in a dilapidated kind of way - with the sun coming in through various crevasses in the ceiling. Any evidence that the courtyard had once been carefully tended was completely overgrown, and he found himself stepping carefully through thatches of weeds and ivy.

Though he didn’t mean to sneak up on her, he was able to come within a yard or two of her before he spoke. “Nice to see you again. Miss. Gardner.”

She jumped about a foot in the air, whirling to gaze at him with a hand on her heart. “Goddamn it, don’t sneak up on people like that!” For the barest moment, her face was flushed and her eyes alight with alarm - and, inexplicably, Vladimir felt himself struggling against a laugh. He hadn’t meant to startle her - and he certainly wasn’t a prankster - but after all the anxiety he’d faced about confronting her, seeing her like this suddenly bolstered his confidence.

Just as quickly as Charlotte’s face had registered surprise, her mouth shrank into a thin line when she realized who he was. He watched her swallow thickly and open her mouth before shutting it. She was, he realized, at just as much a loss for words as he imagined he might be at this moment. After all, two weeks was quite a while for their last meeting to foment.

Vlad decided to break the silence. “I see you’ve come to the project site early as well. Checking your calculations?”

Charlotte’s eyes flashed dangerously, but she didn’t lash out at him as she had before. Instead, she spoke slowly - as if she were measuring her words to ensure that she kept her composure. “No, sir. I’m fairly sure my calculations are precise...I just came to take a last look at this old theater before they demolish it.” She lifted her gaze from his to stare at the crumbling ceiling above them and the overgrowth beneath their feet. “It would have been something to see it restored…” Her voice lowered slightly and Vlad could see on her face that she had travelled somewhere far away - seeing in her mind’s eye how the building might have been in its heyday.

When Vlad followed her gaze, all he could see was the dilapidated remains of crumbling brick and mortar. Of course, he wasn’t versed in nineteen forties architecture, so he had no point of reference, but any beauty this place held took a lot of imagination to recall.

Charlotte, he knew, could probably do it easily. That was, after all, what she did. She was the definition of thinking outside the box.

And he was her exact opposite.

God above, this was going to be harder, even, than he had imagined.

“I’m sure it was very fine, in its day. “It was as much as he could manage, and if the way Charlotte eyed him skeptically was any indication, he was sure he sounded far from genuine.  “In a way, the fact that your building will stand here will count as tribute, won’t it? Physical manifestation of the development of architecture.”

“Well, that’s the wonderful thing about architecture, Mr. Kensley,” Charlotte lifted her skirt, revealing a few tantalizing inches of creamy ankle as she stepped over a particularly thick patch of weeds. “You can use elements from any period and put them into any structure - people both pay homage to and combine aspects of older architecture even in this day and age. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.” She dusted off her blazer before picking a spider from the shoulder to toss gently onto the ground beside her.

Vladimir just stared at her, utterly transfixed. Here she was, standing in the middle of the ruins of a building probably infested with rats and bugs and covered in dust and she didn’t seem to care one single wit. Just another count on which Charlotte Gardner was like no woman he had ever known. “But that’s not what you do.” He spoke before he could stop himself, and inwardly groaned at his own impulsiveness. It was times like this where he wished his mother had taught him that verbal filter she had always warned him he was so dangerously lacking in.

Charlotte looked up at him, dropping a thick hank of red gold curls over her shoulder. Instead of being angry, however, she was smiling - that same mysterious, knowing smile she had graced him with the day they met at the airport. “No. It’s not. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it.”

She gave him a cursory once over that spoke volumes of what she thought of him standing there in his impeccably tailored suit. “What are you doing here so early? I thought the speeches and revelry weren’t set to start for an hour or so.”

At that, Vlad arched a brow. “You assumed I’d just come for the speeches and revelry?”

Charlotte opened her mouth, then shut it with an incriminating look, and Vlad realized, with no small amount of surprise, that she was actually trying to censor herself. He would have thought her even more inclined to impulsive thoughts than he himself, but here she was, doing her best to be amiable.

Perhaps relations between them wouldn’t be so difficult.

Now, he supposed, was a better time than any to try and start over. “Charlotte, I owe you an apology.”

The redhead, who had knelt to pick up an intricately carved piece of what might have been molding or ornate ceiling, immediately looked up at him warily. “What for?”

Vlad exhaled a long breath. Lucas had warned him that women never appreciated empty apologies. They wanted to know exactly what the perpetrator was apologizing for, and they were especially sensitive when a man was the one doing the apologizing. How his youngest brother had gotten so savvy about all of this, Vladimir had no clue, but he was inclined to believe him. He, after all, had never been much of a people person.

“When we first met to discuss your designs, I was quite...dismissive. That wasn’t polite of me, no matter what I think of what I see before me. If my father chose you, well, I’m sure he did so because your design suits our ideals best. I’ll be careful to consider that going forward.”

For a long moment, the young woman merely stared up at him, her expression somewhat perplexed. Slowly, she stood to her full height to run fingers through her glorious mane of curls. “That is...without a doubt, the most analytical apology I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Perhaps it was, but it was an apology just the same - and all Vlad could do was hope she accepted it. “Do you mind if I ask you a slightly personal question?”

Well that was something that he hadn’t expected at all. Her question through Vladimir for somewhat of a loop and he found himself eying her warily. “What kind of question?”

But Charlotte didn’t seem interested in delving into specifics - she asked him just the same. “When’s the last time you apologized to someone?”

Now it was Vladimir’s turn to be speechless. Certainly, he apologized to his brothers and parents all the time - but they were halfhearted apologies that he only hoped would make up for his personality quirks. The last time he had well and truly apologized to someone...well...it had been a very, very long time. His father had told him to do his best to act in a manner that would require little apology - and Vlad thought he had been doing admirably in that arena.

At least, until he met Charlotte. Now, he wasn’t quite sure.

“Why do you ask?” It was easier to counter her question with a question - and in return, Charlotte merely smiled once more.

“Because you seem really out of practice.”

He should have been offended. If she were someone working in his Manhattan office, he would have been - no question about it. Here, in LA, where he felt completely out of place, Vlad only found himself strangely amused.

“I might be. Perhaps more than I’ve ever considered.” It was a strange admission to a woman he barely knew, and yet, here he was.

“Well, Step One is admitting the problem.” Now she was just teasing him, but Vlad found that the detail didn’t displease him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

“And what’s step two?” He found himself inquiring wryly.

“Admitting yourself to a clinic for apologists-in-training.” She returned, her expression as serious as her eyes were full of mirth. “And make a serious attempt at recovery.”

She was being completely and totally ridiculous - and yet he still struggled against a smile. “Does this mean you accept my apology?”

At his question, her eyes turned from teasing to contemplative in the space of a few seconds. “Do you accept my design?”

Goddamn it. Lying wasn’t, and never had been, one of Vladimir’s fortes. He was even worse at it than he was at understanding people - and so he avoided doing so whenever possible. The truth was: Even though his apology was sincere, he no more understood the validity of Charlotte Gardner’s design plans than he had the moment he first laid eyes on them.

But that was why he was talking to her now. “I’m doing my best, Miss Gardner.”

He didn’t think he’d ever spoken a truer statement. Charlotte’s honey colored eyes swept over him, and for a moment, he thought she meant to turn her back on him again. When she spoke, however, her words were surprisingly soft. “Well I suppose that’s all I can ask.” With that, she stepped forward, extending the piece of rubble in her hands to him.

It was half-covered in dust and God knew what else, but Vlad took it from her without hesitation. He looked down at it, wondering what on earth so entranced Charlotte about the weathered lines and aged material. When it occurred to him to ask her, however, he found that she had already moved away from him. He barely caught the flap of her skirts as she stepped out of the ruins and back into the morning sunlight.

Beyond the crumbling walls, he saw a large number of people had gathered and realized, with a start, that it was almost time to begin the groundbreaking ceremony. Had time really passed so quickly?

Sure enough, in the next few minutes, several overly burly security officers were inside the theater, looking for him.

It was time.

Though Marcy was back in New York, Vlad thought he’d done a  good job of writing his own speech - there were quite a few lovely lines about moving forward, company development, and how the new West Coast hub would serve as a launching point for the expansion of future endeavors. He had hoped to impress with it, but Vlad found himself distracted.

He was facing a crowd of well over two hundred people as well as many important figures. The president of the construction company they were using, as well as a master engineer who was one of the top in his field - but Vlad was overly aware of the woman next to him - her scent, the warmth of her body, the way the wind caught tendrils of her deep red hair so she had to keep tucking them back into place.

This couldn’t be good. He certainly wanted a good working relationship with her, but that would all be shot to hell if he couldn’t keep his wits about him when she was around. It wasn’t a problem he’d had to deal with before, and now Vlad found himself somewhat...perturbed.

But that wouldn’t put him off his plans.

A grand cheer rounded off his speech as the men he planned to work with shook his hand and slapped him on the back good-naturedly. When Charlotte approached him, he held onto her hand for almost certainly a bit longer than was proprietary, but she didn’t seem to notice. The loud rumble of demolition machines behind the podium drowned out everything else, and everyone present watched as wrecking balls began to work on the remains of the decrepit theater behind them. While almost everyone went wild when they began to destroy the crumbling walls, Charlotte merely stared at the piles of brick and steel beams with an almost longing expression.

“Miss Gardner.” She turned to face him, arching a brow in inquiry. Vlad forced himself to ask his question before he lost his gall. “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night? To discuss plans for the structure, of course.” He wanted to leave no questions as to what the occasion was. He, more than anyone else, disapproved of intimacy in the workplace, and the last thing he wanted was Charlotte thinking he intended to take advantage of her in such a way.

“Alright.” He was surprised when she agreed after only a brief moment of contemplation, her eyes mischievous once more. “But I get to choose the place. I hope your tastes don’t run too expensive.”

It was the second time she’d slipped a jibe into their conversation - an insinuation that he was a man surrounded by luxury in his high castle.

How little she knew. “My tastes are varied - but they matter little. I’m supposed to be trusting your judgement, aren’t I?”

Her smile only widened. “I’d like nothing better.”

She was a sharp-tongued little thing - which he wouldn’t mind if it didn’t give him such an insistent urge to taste that smart mouth of hers. If this was going to work, Vlad could be on nothing less than his best behavior. It didn’t matter how drawn he was to Charlotte Gardner and her uniqueness - he was, and always would be, a professional - first and foremost.

And he had never failed to rise to a challenge.

 

 

Chapter 5 - Give and Take

 

Charlotte was on her fifth dress in the past hour, and she was trying to convince herself that, ultimately, it wouldn’t matter what she looked like. She could wear a burlap sack to this damn dinner and it wouldn’t make any difference at all.

Vladimir Kensley wasn’t looking at her after all. She was just an asset to the company, and now he was hell bent on working with her so they could find some common ground where her design was concerned. For God’s sake, he had all but admitted that he still didn’t accept her design, and they had already started work on the damned building.

But, oddly, she wasn’t as angry as she thought she’d be. It seemed Charlotte had exhausted all of her anger wondering why the man couldn’t possibly understand that his father had chosen a slightly unconventional design for his new building.

But now Charlotte thought she was beginning to get a bit of perspective.

She didn’t think she’d ever seen a man make a more awkward apology than Vladimir Kensley - almost as if he’d never actually attempted to make one. Charlotte suspected that, perhaps, he hadn’t. After all, the man was in a position of immense power. It wouldn’t be strange if he barely apologized for anything.

Indeed, if that was the case, she should be flattered that he saw fit to apologize to her. Even if he didn’t know what he was apologizing about.

Even Charlotte found herself suddenly unsure. What she had previously believed to be disdain she now wondered about. Kensley seemed a bit...off when it came to interacting with people - or maybe it was just her. Despite that, he had gone out of his way to ask her to dinner - he wanted to make amends between them, and he seemed honor bound to understand the way she

thought.

It was easier said than done for most. Charlotte only knew of a handful of people who had successfully pulled it off, and she didn’t think Vladimir Kensley would be added to their ranks anytime soon.

And yet, here she was, getting all dolled up for God knew what reason. She was, she soon realized, acting as if this were some sort of date when what she was participating in could very well be the anti-date.

Well, if Vladimir Kensley expected her to give him a crash course in abstract geography over the course of a single meal, he was sorely mistaken. She would, of course, be as pleasant as she could stand to be, but she hardly thought a single meal was adequate time for the man to understand the way she ticked.

So why the hell was she concerned over what dress to wear?

Charlotte tossed her sixth attempt onto the bed and stared down at them all, stark naked. She had chosen her favorite sushi place, so the atmosphere was pretty casual. With that knowledge, she had been prepared to simply throw on a dress and a pair of flats, but when it actually came to the throwing on, she found herself sorely lacking decisiveness.

There was a black number, which she thought would be her safest bet, and then there was her favorite blue sundress, which she felt confident in but wasn’t quite sure was appropriate for a dinner occasion with a man who was supposed to be her boss. Two of the dresses she’d chosen were flat out too uncomfortable, and she was disgusted with the amount of cleavage the last dress showed.

Suddenly, it seemed like she didn’t have anything suitable to wear, which made her want to toss her entire wardrobe in the garbage. With a sigh, she collapsed face first onto the coverlet, cursing her entire existence. This wouldn’t be so damned complicated if the man wasn’t attractive. If Jackson Kensley had only come himself, she probably wouldn’t even be having this issue. She’d be consulting with the elder man at the job site, he wouldn’t be questioning her architecture style and she could just write this off as another job.

But it was already way beyond that

This had transcended work and turned into some convoluted craziness that kept her awake at night. Or rather, woke her up.

To some very interesting dreams.

Mind you, Charlotte was no stranger to erotic dreams. She’d had them once or twice before and merely written them off to infatuation. Almost as soon as she got to know the objects of said dreams, any carnal sexual attraction she had faded. They were never up to snuff. How could they be? These were her dreams they were talking about.

But, with Vladimir Kensley, she would never have that option. She would never sleep with the man - never even touch him - so that meant her dreams were free to rage entirely unfettered.

And what dreams they were?

Completely unbidden, memories began to rise to the forefront of her mind. Any attempts Charlotte made to try and think of something else were immediately drowned out. All she could see was Vladimir’s mouth roving her body hungrily, the way he bit and sucked at her neck - down her spine to hold her in place as he parted her thighs to slide into her...filling her completely…

Jesus Christ...At least it helped that she knew her dreams were just that. There was, in her mind, no way a man so prudish he couldn’t even accept something against the grain would be able to dominate her in bed. Vladimir Kensley probably expected every woman he slept with to just lie there passively and take what he gave them.

If he was, indeed, giving them anything.

Another groan escaped her. Now she was just being malicious. She had no idea what kind of women Vladimir liked, and it was unfair of her to try and demean him simply because she was pissed that he’d invaded her subconscious.

And she was pissed.

Reaching out, Charlotte grabbed the first garment that came in contact with her fingertips and decided that she didn’t care which one it was - that was what she was going to wear.  When she saw it was the lowest cut of the clothing she’d brought out, she cursed lowly. She would simply have to wear a sweater over it - she wasn’t going to obsess over this anymore.

It was just one dinner. What could possibly happen during one dinner?

 

Charlotte showed up for the affair fifteen minutes early - it was a side effect of leaving the apartment early so she didn’t have to deal with Lila’s inquiries as to where she was going. She was sure her friend would pry all of the details out of her later anyway, so she felt no guilt in giving her the slip.

She thought that the fifteen minutes would give her plenty of time to show up and find a good table, but she found, to her dismay, that nearly all of them were full by the time she arrived. Charlotte supposed that it wasn’t her favorite sushi place for nothing, but still found herself disappointed at the prospect of waiting for a table with Mr. High and Mighty - at least, that was, until she found that she wouldn’t have to wait at all.

“Charlotte, someone’s waiting for you.” She was about to put her name in with Miyuki, the receptionist, when the smaller woman made a revelation that caused a double take.

“Excuse me?” She checked her watch quickly. It was still ten to eight. No way the man was that anal.

“Dark-haired, good looking guy over there with a bit of an accent.” Miyuki gestured with a small smile. “He said you’d be in around eight or so.”

Disbelieving, Charlotte looked over to find the man sitting in a booth in the far corner, bent over a stack of paperwork in front of him. She could have guessed he was the workaholic type.

After the shock wore off, she allowed herself a moment to simply stare at him. For once, he wasn’t wearing one of his suits. Instead, he wore a pair of dark slacks and an equally dark sweater that only served to enhance a body she swore couldn’t belong to a man who sat behind his desk all day. Instead of being swept back from his brow, as it usually was, his dark hair hung about his shoulders - he could have just gotten out of the shower.

Though that certainly wasn’t a train of thought she should be entertaining.

“How long has he been here?” She finally managed, hoping she didn’t sound as nervous as she let on.

“About half an hour. Asked if we minded his doing work while he waited for the second member of his party. Very polite.”

Of course. Polite was Vladimir Kensley’s middle name. “Thanks, Miyuki.” With that, Charlotte steeled herself, tugging her sweater tighter about her despite the spring warmth. She suddenly wished she’d chosen a more conservative dress - but that didn’t keep her feet from carrying her right over to her boss’ table to stand beside it. She cleared her throat and Kensley stopped writing immediately to look up at her in surprise.

“You’re early.”

Charlotte stared him down. “Says the man who was here half an hour ago!”

Vladimir straightened to arch a brow that said very clearly that he could be wherever he damn well pleased, when he pleased. “A water main broke in the office and I had to finish a good deal of work in my hotel room. I hope you’ll pardon the casual attire - I didn’t feel like pressing a suit.”

“You press your own suits?”

In response, Vladimir merely gestured to the empty seat before him and Charlotte felt her cheeks burning. If he’d been rude in inferring that her work wasn’t right for his company, she wasn’t exactly being cordial assuming that he was a spoiled rich kid.

Even if he was. “I must say,” he’d gone back to writing now, and Charlotte was surprised to see that he was working on something he could have just as easily input into a computer with a scanner, “I’m glad I let you choose the restaurant. I know nothing about LA.”

“Well,” she tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand and not the oddly elegant way in which he wrote - or that he was writing in Russian. Fucking Russian, “The best way to get to know LA is to have a native show you around.”

“Are you offering?” He inquired, his eyes never leaving the page in front of him.

“I’m...sure you’re busy with other things. But if either of us has time between all our projects, I suppose it might be good to show you the city.” She’d barely been sitting for five minutes and already the man had her confused. Hadn’t he brought her here to talk business? And was he going to talk to her at all, or was he just going to do work the entire time?

The prospect made her feel oddly relieved - at least until the man finally set his stack of documents aside to fix her with his intense blue gaze. “So, tell me Charlotte, have you be coming to this place long?”

As many times as she had encouraged the man to call her by her Christian name, the young woman now realized that it was a mistake. The title sounded far too intimate from him, and atop that, every time he said it, her eyes were drawn to his mouth.

His gorgeous mouth.

“At least a decade,” she finally managed, “All through architecture school. But, I have to ask, Mr. Kensley, what on earth does that have to do with the building we’re working on?”

Vladimir sighed, folding large hands on the table in front of him. “Charlotte, I’m going to be frank with you.” As if he knew how to be anything else - that much was obvious. “You and I are fundamentally different people. We work in very dissimilar ways.”

“How could you tell?” The dry comment left her before she could stop it, but thankfully, Kensley chose to ignore it.

“I had hoped that by getting to know one another, we might understand each other more. After all, this project is of incredible import to both of our careers. Am I wrong?”

For a split second, Charlotte found her ire rising. She had been so defensive about her career for so long that she thought, perhaps, that Vladimir Kensley was threatening her.

Until she realized exactly what he’d said. The building was important to both their careers. Certainly, this project would serve as a foundation for the firm that she opened as an architect, but how much did he have riding on this? His father had already made all of the important decisions, hadn’t he? Wasn’t the younger Kensley here to just supervise and tag along for the ride?

“How is this going to affect your career?” Good lord, now she was almost as bad at blurting out whatever was on her mind as he seemed to be. She hadn’t planned to leave her filter at home with her sensibilities.

Kensley merely chuckled lowly before fixing her with an indulgent, small smile. “You don’t think very much of me, do you, Charlotte?”

The young woman couldn’t ever remember turning more red - and she was sure it clashed horribly with her hair. “That is...I mean...I don’t-”

“What if I were to tell you that I’m poised to become the CEO of Kensley Enterprises in the next year, and this project is a final test of sorts for me? To see if I well and truly have what it takes to fill my father’s shoes?”

Well, that was quite a bit more than she had expected. Charlotte shut her mouth, staring at the table for a moment. When she spoke again, she chose her words more carefully. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have much to worry about. You’ve been at the head of the company for the past decade, haven’t you? Jackson’s the only one with more power than you.”

“Yes, but do you think that means I’m ready?” She could see him arching a brow out of the corner of her eye. “What do you know about me, Charlotte? Other than I press my own suits?”

Ok, she deserved that one. “Not...not a lot,” She admitted grudgingly, hardly daring to look up when the waiter brought them their food and sake menus.

“And I know little of you. On that one thing, we’re in perfect agreement. Now,” he picked up the menu and perused it for a moment before his eyes flicked back to hers, “In order for this venture to go smoothly for both of us, we’re going to have to see eye to eye. For that, I’d say that a little getting to know one another is in order.”

It was an ironclad argument - and Charlotte found she couldn't even think of the slightest protest. “So, Charlotte...tell me why you like this sushi place so much.”

The young woman hesitated a moment before she replied in utter truthfulness. “Well, I chose this place at random to celebrate my getting into my architecture program. They were so nice to me that I’ve been coming ever since. Plus, the food is amazing.”

“And what’s your favorite type of sake?” For a moment, she thought he might not have heard her, but the young woman was startled to find that the waiter had returned to the table and was waiting to take their order.

“The Snow Maiden,” she answered, once she recovered. “It’s...really sweet. You might not like it.”

But Vladimir didn’t miss a beat. “Two bottles of the snow maiden please. And the Omakase for two.”

Blinking in confusion, Charlotte merely watched the waiter compliment them on their choice before starting away.  “What’s an Omakase?”

“It’s a set menu that the sushi chef choses,” Kensley replied instantly. “My brother Toshiro insists that it’s the only way to eat sushi.”

Toshiro. That was a decidedly Japanese name. “Your brother is Japanese.” She inferred. “As in: Born in Japan.”

“That’s typically what ‘Japanese’ means, yes Charlotte.” Now he was smiling at her and she squirmed slightly in her seat.

“And you’re Russian.”

He nodded. “I suppose the accent gave me away. I’ve never really been able to get rid of it.”

“Probably a good thing.” The words were out before Charlotte could stop herself and she soon found her cheeks burning again as Vladimir stared at her curiously.

“Why good?”

“Well...it’s something that makes you stand out, isn’t it? Makes you memorable.” And sexy as hell.

“I suppose I never thought of it that way.” His blue eyes lit slightly in something that looked oddly like pleasure. “Though I would hope to be judged more on my efficiency than on my accent alone.”

Of course he would. This man was about as methodical as a root equation - enough to make her wonder if he was part computer. “Well...if your checking and double checking is any indication,” she finally found herself murmuring somewhat grudgingly, “I’m sure you’re very efficient.”

“Checking and double-checking?”

“My designs,” Charlotte quickly cleared up his confusion, her voice slightly cool. “You were definitely very thorough about making sure they fit your company needs.”

“According to my father, they do.” He answered, not one hint of enmity in his voice. “I hope to come to the same conclusion that he has, with time.”

Time. It would take Vladimir Kensley several lifetimes to retrieve the stick up his ass. “You know,” Charlotte began wryly, pouring them both sake from the bottle the waiter brought. “Getting to know someone isn’t methodical and formulaic. It’s organic. If you think there’s some magical question that I can answer to make you instantly understand the way I think, you’re sadly mistaken.”

Vladimir simply took a sip of his sake before making a low sound of approval at the taste; a sound that, Charlotte was embarrassed to say, went straight to the core of her, heating her where she had no right to be heated. “I Think, Miss Gardner, you’ll find the power of inquiry can unlock almost anything.”

Goddamn him. In a perfect world, she would have hated a man like this. But trying to hate Vladimir Kensley was just like trying to keep water in her cupped hands. No matter what she did, any dislike eventually trickled away, leaving only blatant curiosity - with a simmering undertone of physical hunger.

 

The next week was one of the most hectic of Charlotte’s life. Between the hours she spent at the job site and the time she spent at her desk at home, going over her designs, she barely had time to think about her dinner with Vladimir.

And she supposed that was a good thing.

Whenever she did have a spare moment to contemplate, she had no idea what she was supposed to think of Vladimir or his grand plan to form a singular analysis of her using some sort of verbal questionnaire.

It was, without a doubt, one of the strangest things she’d ever heard of.

But that didn’t mean she hadn’t enjoyed the dinner, in a strange way. After all, for every question that Vladimir asked her, she got to fire one right back at him - which meant she now knew a great deal more about him than she had upon meeting him. First and foremost, however, she had discovered that the Omakase he’d told her about was indeed the way to go. Even after eating at her sushi spot for a decade, she had no idea that it existed - and yet ordering it had resulted in some of the best sushi she’d ever had.

That, she didn’t mind thanking Vladimir for - but with everything else, she was still on the fence. Each day that she worked with him at the job site was one where she traipsed around in a hardhat, consulting with engineers and construction managers while he watched, wordlessly, taking notes in a small black book that he carried everywhere with him.

He rarely talked to anyone on the site, and if he did, it was simply to ask them their opinion on the current building based on those they had worked on in the past - and that was always interesting to hear. To their merit, they tried to be as supportive as they could, but it was clear that they had never been a part of something quite as unique as Charlotte’s designs.

It took a full three days before she managed to catch Vladimir in the act. The entire jobsite was bustling as they hollowed out the ground for the foundations of the gigantic structure. While any number of men in hard hats on the site kept telling her not to climb in and out of the pit - that it was dangerous - Charlotte only rolled her eyes. Of course they would say that - all the while doing it themselves.

She had been on plenty of job sites in her time, and she was pretty sure burly, self-assured men injured themselves quicker than she did. One day, after slipping past a front end-loader that was on its way down to deepen the pit, she caught Vladimir at the end of the property, speaking to the head engineer.

“...and how do you find the building design, based on those you’ve worked with before?”

When she caught the tail end of his question, the young woman smirked. He was still looking for validation. But now, strangely, it didn’t piss her off as much as it amused her. Of course her designs were unique - these engineers had probably never seen anything like them. But that didn’t mean they were any less fit for the company’s purposes.

“Well,” Charles Brown seemed at a loss as he scratched at the thick beard that covered his chin. “It is unconventional, I’ll give it that. But I must admit I’m interested to start on the building. Girl with a mind like that...she’s gotta have some pretty interesting insight on the construction.”

Well, he was a damn sight more complimentary than Vladimir had been the first time he’d seen the plans - almost restored her faith in the male populace.

Almost.

“You’re so sweet, Charlie.” Her statement startled both men, and Charles turned around with a nervous smile, obviously less than thrilled to be caught in the middle of an interrogation.

“Charlotte! I thought you were still down in the pit.”

“I was.” The young woman dusted off the t-shirt and jeans she was wearing. “Why? Were you going to tell me to be safe? I think I’m ok.”

“Just watch your footing.” He seemed happy to have a reason to change the subject, but Charlotte wasn’t going to let him get away that easy.

“What are you boys talking about? Still looking for me to show my worth?”

Charlie’s cheeks colored and he immediately stammered, searching for an answer. Vladimir, however, had no such reservations. He met her gaze steadily, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement.  “You know very well this has nothing to do with your worth, Charlotte. I’m just speaking to those better versed on the subject than I am - getting a variety of different opinions.”

“And how’s that going for you?” Crossing her arms over her chest, she arched a brow in inquiry.

“It might go better if you weren’t stalking me.” The statement was enough to make her cheeks color slightly. She hadn’t been stalking him, per say, but she had certainly been watching him. Why wouldn’t she? It wasn’t every day that someone met a CEO so interested in a building’s construction that he left the office several hours a day to oversee things?

He certainly wasn’t the passive overlord she might have expected - and that perplexed the hell out of her.

“I’m not stalking you,” she finally rebutted, feeling Charles inquiring gaze on her. “I’m just trying to make sure I keep my job.”

“No one has said anything about firing you.” Indeed, Vladimir looked surprised at the very notion. “My father is intent that your design should be the one we use - you’re not going anywhere. Besides...you’re far too interesting to send away.”

He couldn’t have shocked Charlotte more if he’d kissed her full on the mouth.

Interesting. He’d called her interesting. Coming from Vladimir, that was practically a compliment.

Before she could reply, however, he turned from her to begin across the jobsite, intent on interrogating someone else.

And leaving a speechless Charlotte in his wake.

“He’s nothing like his father, is he?”

When Charlie spoke, Charlotte snapped out of her reverie to look up at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Vladimir.” Charles repeated, staring after the man with a curious expression. “Nothing at all like Jackson.”

It hadn’t occurred to Charlotte that everyone else on the jobsite was probably rather experienced in working with Jackson himself. She was the only novel person on this team. She supposed the discovery made her feel rather unique.

“Well,” She admitted, taking off her hard hat for a moment to run her fingers through strands of sweat damp hair, “I haven’t actually met Jackson, so I wouldn’t know.”

Charles’ expression immediately turned to one of obvious surprise. “Haven’t you?”

Charlotte shrugged. “We corresponded via e-mail. I didn’t have the time to fly to New York to meet him in person, even though I would have liked to.”

For a long moment, Charles’ look was unreadable. Charlotte found herself arching a brow when it continued long past the time she thought might have been appropriate. “What is it?”

She thought the man might snipe about someone not having time to meet Jackson fucking Kensley, but what came out of his mouth instead completely shocked her.

“I thought he and your father were close. That he’d known you since you were born.”

Charlotte may have never worked on a project of this magnitude before, but it didn’t take her long to put two and two together. “He and my father are friends, yes, but I’ve never met him.” When she spoke, her voice was slightly strained. She didn’t like what this man was insinuating.

She didn’t like it at all. “I’m sure he knows of me, but I’ve never seen the man face to face.” She cursed at how defensive she sounded.

“I see.” Though she had thought Charlie friendly enough up until this point, Charlotte now found herself rethinking that evaluation. It was obvious what he thought. “So, I suppose the connection had nothing to do with you getting the job.”

And there it was. He’d gone and said it.

Charlotte immediately felt her ire flare, and struggled against the sick anger in her gut. She might have known something like this might happen - expected it, even. But even so, it still hurt.

She opened her mouth, ready to defend herself, only to be cut off before she could even start to lay into the man.

“I’m sure you know very well, Charles, that Charlotte’s design was chosen for this project on her talent alone.” The redhead looked up in surprised to see that Vladimir had returned and was standing behind her, his expression sterner than she had ever seen it. “Jackson Kensley doesn’t choose his positions based on relationships or influence - you should know this more than anyone else. Skill matters more than anything else...and, as you yourself just finished discussing with me, Miss Gardner has it. In spades.”

Charles’ cheeks reddened and he looked from Vladimir to Charlotte and then back again. Anyone with eyes could tell that he wanted to bring Vladimir down a peg or two, but the man wasn’t stupid enough to forget that his job was on the line. Instead of saying anything, he ultimately merely nodded curtly before moving away from the two of them, his posture stiff.

For some inexplicable reason, Charlotte’s heart was pounding.

Slowly, she turned to face Vladimir. Before Charles left, she had been so angry that she didn’t notice how close Vladimir was - so close, in fact, that she could feel the warmth of his body. Now, she found that anger slowly ebbing as she gazed up at him. “I…” she swallowed thickly, “I could have handled that.”

At that particular moment, the man looked more than imposing - he looked every bit the backbone of the company he was - the master of all he surveyed. It was, Charlotte realized, easy for her to forget that the man intimidated her more because she was unsure how to feel about him. He confused her - and she didn’t like to be confused. Even without her own personal feelings in the mix Vladimir was intimidating enough.

More than intimidating even.

Was it horrible that his firm frown only added to his sex appeal?  When he looked like that, Charlotte could imagine him the man of her fantasies...pinning her to the bed as he took advantage of every inch of her naked body with his mouth, his hands and everything he had to offer…

“You could have.” His reply was simple, but it was enough to bring her back to the present and force her to cool her very interested sex drive. “But I happened to overhear. I hope you’ll forgive me for intruding.”

Why wouldn’t her heart stop pounding? She wasn’t angry anymore. She might have thought she’d have no problem cooling off; but, then again, her emotions were always thrown off kilter when Vladimir Kensley was around.

She should thank him. There was no quicker way to nip rumors like that in the bud than a few words from the most powerful man on the job site. Charlie might be a little sore for a while, but eventually, for the sake of his job, he’d swallow his pride and they’d work together cordially again. If Vladimir hadn’t stepped in... she might have made a scene. And that wouldn’t have helped anyone.

But thanking him would be...well, it would be acknowledging that she’d needed him in the first place. And that was difficult for her- it had always been difficult.

Exhaling a long sigh, she removed her hard hat, her cheeks pink, and abruptly changed the subject. “Um...I’m pretty hungry. How about you?”

“I could eat.” One thing she could appreciate endlessly about this man was the fact that he never tried to call her on her reluctance when she wormed out of uncomfortable situations.

“Well, there’s this place nearby that has amazing tacos. If you like tacos, that is.”

It wasn’t as if she expected the man to turn up his nose. After all, he hadn’t minded her picking the location the first time they had dinner together. However, Charlotte was still surprised when Vladimir lips quirked upward into an amused smile. “I do, in fact, like tacos.” He chuckled lowly, before continuing. “Is this part of your showing me around LA?”

“If you want to call it that, sure. I’m just starving.”

But she could have eaten alone. There was no reason why she had to invite Vladimir with her - and yet she had done it anyway.

“Of course.”

As she lead the way from the job site, Charlotte found herself more perturbed than ever. Even though he didn’t approve of her design - he was practically trying to write a paper to figure out why it had been chosen, Vladimir called her interesting, and even came to her defense when someone might have offended her. If she didn’t know any better, she might think the man had actually taken a liking to her.

But that didn’t mean she had to like him, did it?

Because she was just tolerating him for this position -that was all. There was no way in hell she actually liked Vladimir Kensley.

 

**

Vladimir wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but all too soon, he and Charlotte seemed to have fallen into a routine.

While it wasn’t strange for him to leave the job site around lunch hour to go to upscale restaurants or even the bistro in the hotel where he was staying - at least, it hadn’t been until the day Charlotte invited him to her taco restaurant.

Which had turned out to be a taco truck and had, indeed, served some of the best food he’d ever had.

Charlotte had laughed while he tried to decide on what toppings he wanted while she herself ordered everything and enjoyed it with great gusto. Unlike other women he’d eaten with, the redhead had no reservations about enjoying her food. But then again, she also had no concerns with trying to take small bites in between flirtatious smiles.

Charlotte didn’t flirt - but that was, of course, because there was nothing romantic between them. It was all business.

And the more Vladimir kept telling himself that, the less inclined he was to do something idiotic to change the rules of the game.

He had learned just enough about her during their first dinner to soften his opinion about her avant-garde, brash way of thinking. He had to admit, a large part of him had worried that Charlotte might believe herself the particular type of artist that was above everyone else. That she might try to lord her power over the jobsite and every person that worked on it.

He couldn’t have been more mistaken.

Over sushi and sake, he had questioned her a about her background - where she had gone to school and how long it had taken her to get her degree. At no time during that questioning had she said anything that might lead him to believe that she was full of herself. Confident, yes, but certainly not arrogant.

It was enough to make him relax somewhat - but Vlad knew it would take a hell of a lot more before he could understand what made those outlandish designs of hers spring from such a nimble and intelligent mind.

The lunches helped.

After the first one, they had fallen into a daily routine. Around noon, Charlotte would always mention - within earshot, no less - that she was starving. That was his signal to ask where she was going to eat. It was a different place every day, and Vladimir allowed himself to continue following her because it meant seeing more of the city - learning where everything was and the way the metropolis ticked.

But he wasn’t complaining about an extra hour or so every day with Charlotte Gardner.

There was something about her...several somethings, in fact. Principal among those things was, of course, his unfailing attraction towards her. She was nothing like any woman he’d ever been interested in before, but somehow, that only seemed to bolster his interest in her. Every time he caught sight of her flaming column of red hair out of the corner of his eye, every muscle in his body tightened with something horribly like anticipation.

He wanted her to talk to him. He all but longed for her daily professions of hunger so they could escape the noise and dust of the busy job site and have some time to themselves.

For business, of course.

Though he meant to get to know her to work better with her, Vladimir found the small things about Charlotte intrigued him just as much as revelations about her past or her work ethic. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when the strands went a little too helter skelter. The way she tugged her lower lip between her teeth as she marked notes down on the blueprints she carried around the jobsite with her. The way that she wore baggy jeans and t-shirts far better than anyone else on the jobsite - to the point of distraction, in fact.

Embarrassingly, Vlad found that he had to leave the site two or three times a day to make sure it wasn’t obvious how easily she affected him physically.

Then, of course, there was the way she talked to him - the way she grinned and laughed unabashedly, and spoke unreservedly about almost everything. She didn’t seem to have the filter that everyone seemed so intent that he should acquire - and perhaps that was another reason why he was so drawn to her.

“That’s not how you eat it.”

One day, she watched him try and fail to eat something called a pupusa for about five minutes before she intervened, visibly hiding a smile. “Just pick it up with your fingers and chomp it, don’t be shy.” She tossed him a handful of napkins. “You can use those.”

Vladimir was used to years and years of those who worked for him being deferential - almost docile. The only ones in the Manhattan office who weren’t affected by his station were his brothers, and, oftentimes, he found himself wondering if he was really that intimidating. At least, when he wasn’t angry or upset about something. The answer always seemed to be a resounding yes.

At least until he spent time with Charlotte. Little he said or did seemed to cow her, and she certainly wasn’t intimidated by his mere presence.

Quite the contrary, in fact.

“So, one doesn’t use a fork?”

In answer to his question, Charlotte merely lifted her own pupusa to her mouth with slender fingertips, her gaze never leaving his. When she took a large bite, her eyes drifted shut and a sound of utter bliss slipped past her lips. Vladimir felt his body responding without his leave and bit back a groan as he shifted slightly to hide it. He set his own plastic ware aside to imitate her, and at the taste of the cheese and pork filling on his tongue, a surprised sound of pleasure escaped him. “This is delicious.”

“Isn’t it though? All the better when you go for it bare handed.” Charlotte laughed at his expression. “You look like you’re about to witness the second coming. Are you alright?”

“I am.” She didn’t mind that he was her boss- and she seemed to have gotten over the fact that, perhaps, he didn’t completely understand her designs. For now, she was merely a woman amused with him.

And he found he liked it.

“Have you never had street food before?” She sucked at the tip of one finger hungrily before she took another bite.” And I’m not trying to imply you’re spoiled again. I’m just asking.”

He smirked. At least she’d learned her lesson in that arena then. “In the past decade or so, I can’t recall. I liked to spent every minute that I could in my office.”

“Because you’re a workaholic.” Charlotte finished for him, her smile mischievous. “I’ve heard this story before.”

“I like,” I returned emphasizing each word for clarity, “To ensure that everything is running smoothly.”

“Workaholic and control freak. The perfect combination.”

Vlad merely sighed, taking another bite of his delectable pupusa. “If we’re going with labels here, I suppose I could call you the crazy artist. Every time I look at those plans...I feel like they get a little more untenable.”

Charlotte only laughed softly. “I think it’s pretty much established that we have very different ways of thinking, you and I.”

“I certainly won’t argue with you there.” He took a sip of a cinnamon flavored, milk-based beverage she told him was called horchata and let out a breath of satisfaction. Apparently, street food wasn’t as overrated as he thought.

“But we come from different places too, Vladimir. You’re a Russian import with a crazy high IQ and a father who’s a household name. I’m...well, I’m me. I was lucky enough to be raised by a man who didn’t try to fit me into a mold.”

“And here we are,” He finished for her, trying his best not to stare at the way the loose-t-shirt she wore clung to the swell of her breasts. “Working together for a common cause.”

That was the easiest way for him to see it. He certainly wasn’t going to tell her that his curiosity about her bordered-on fascination, and that he was bound and determined to discover what, exactly, it was, that so obsessed him.

That would, after all, be far too intimate for a working relationship.

They had lunch together almost every day, barring the few that he absolutely had to stay in the office for meetings or work. Sometimes she showed him to restaurants and sometimes to street stalls - more than once they crossed half the city to get to a place she promised him would be life altering.

And it always was.

Though Vladimir would never classify himself as a foodie, Charlotte was rapidly showing him what it was like to explore food that transcended cultures. LA was a veritable melting pot of people from all over the world, and any food one could possibly conceive of was available there. There were a few times where he managed to convince her to join in on his lunch plans. He took her to the bistro in his hotel, and a few restaurants that made her embarrassed to step through the door in her t-shirt and jeans. Of course, the venues were more than willing to accommodate them based on his reputation alone - but part of him enjoyed watching her squirm as he urged her into places lined with golden chandeliers and pristine tables covered in cloths made of pure silk.

The food there, she confided in him, was good, but nothing could beat hot street food from people that knew how to do it right.

And, after a fashion, he was inclined to agree with her.

But that didn’t mean he stopped pushing his luck.

It took them close to two weeks to lay the foundations for the building, and then another two after that to ensure that everything was organized properly to begin with the next steps. During that time, they didn’t need to be at the job site, but that didn’t stop Charlotte from stopping in every day, just to take in the view.

Vladimir might not have seen her on those days, had he gone straight into the office, but he always managed to make an excuse to stop by the site - and there she was, traipsing around, looking at everything and anything, even though construction had barely started. In some ways, he couldn’t help but wonder if she liked control just as much as he did - if she needed to know what was going on to make sure she remained in the loop.

But if he took into account how very different they were, that seemed a very far-fetched notion indeed.

It wasn’t something they had ever discussed. As far as Charlotte was concerned, he was a workaholic - though one might argue that she was just the same. She told him that, when she was a student, she could spend as many as twelve hours a day working on a project and not tire of it.

And somehow, he didn’t think she’d changed since graduating.

Despite his detours to the job site - to check on how things were going just as much as to make sure she was alright, he told himself - Vladimir ended up in the office for at least six hours out of every day. It was the part of his LA stay that remained routine, even though he was far from his Manhattan office.

The paperwork was comforting to him. Though Manhattan was undoubtedly where he belonged, he could speak to clients and oversee deals just as easily from LA as he could from New York City and that was enough for him. When he was in full work mode, it was harder for him to concentrate on Charlotte - and that was a welcome reprieve as well.

Over the course of his first few weeks in LA, any number of people called him to check on his progress. His mother, of course, was first and foremost. She called each and every week without fail, to see how he was adjusting, and Vlad was almost embarrassed by the concern in her voice. He might feel a bit like a fish out of water, but he was still a grown man - and more than used to taking care of himself.

It made him feel better when Shiro called to tell him that their mother seemed to up her protective factor in his absence. That it wasn’t just he who was receiving the brunt of her concern - it was all of them, including their father.

As for Jackson himself, after the first conversation Vlad had with him about Charlotte’s plans, he didn’t call again for three weeks - and when he did, he sounded just as confident as ever.

“How is LA treating you, my boy?” Vlad took the call around six in the evening, during a lull in his work period. He had been irked to be disturbed before the secretary told him it was his father on the line. Then he couldn’t pick up the phone fast enough.

“It’s hot.” It was the first thing that came to Vladimir’s mind, and Jackson roared with laughter.

“I thought you might enjoy the change in climate.” He could hear the smile in his father’s voice. “It’s spring here and we could still get snow any day. You might take the opportunity to go to the beach and catch some sun.”

Vlad made an uncomfortable sound in the back of his throat. His father had to know better. He would do no such thing. The few times in his life he had gone to the beach, he had burned rather than tanned - and then he had realized that his skin was probably too fair to do anything else but burn. He had always been the type that preferred vacations to cold weather locales - something his oldest brother Alistair liked to tease him about to this day. “I think not.”

“Of course, of course.” Jackson chuckled. “In all seriousness though: How is the project coming along?”

“The groundbreaking went smoothly.” Vlad had reported to his father so many times over the years that it was almost second nature. “And the foundations have been laid. Charlotte and Charles are in talks about how to proceed with the next steps.”

“I imagine Charlie is having a bit of difficulty with the designs - more than you perhaps.”

Though his father was three thousand miles away, Vladimir felt his face heat. “I’m not having difficulties, father.”

“Of course. You simply called me before because you wanted to hear my voice.”

Goddamn it. “I was merely making sure that this was absolutely what you wanted, father. This building...it will certainly be the most unique we’ve ever commissioned.”

“That’s the point, my boy.” Whereas Vlad was tentative, Jackson had no such reservations. “New image, new blood - new way of thinking. We can’t innovate if we stay the same.”

“That, I understand.” Vlad returned carefully. “I merely assumed that the process would be...well...gradual.” Meaning that Charlotte’s ideas were so off the beaten path that he had hoped there might have been a subtler test drive first.

“This is as gradual as it gets, my boy. Someone has to implement things, and I figured it might as well be you.”

“Me?” Vlad returned incredulously. “But I haven’t...You…”

“You’re overseeing the project. Certainly, I’ll step in when it’s far enough along, but for now, you’re holding the reigns, son. Which means that all of this change is in your good name.” The reality of this implication hit Vladimir like a ton loader. For all these weeks, he had acted almost as if he were taking orders from his father...but those working for him wouldn’t have seen it that way - and especially not with all the time he’d been spending with Charlotte. “Speaking of, how are things going with Miss Gardner?”

And just like that, Vlad was rendered utterly speechless. He might have lied - might have provided a simple good or well, just to get his father to move on to another subject. Instead, he found the words stuck in his throat.

He had never been a good liar.

What on earth was he supposed to say? That, despite their initial meeting, they were getting along? That he was going out of his way to leave the office and speak to her. That they were dangerously close to becoming friends? He was sure these were all things that his father might like to hear - but for Vlad, they were far too dangerous. If Jackson Kensley caught so much as a whiff of interest from one of his sons where a woman was concerned, he wouldn’t relent until he knew the full nature of the scenario.

And in this scenario, despite his best intentions, Vladimir wanted far more than to simply be friends with Charlotte Gardner.

He wanted her.

He was long past the point of trying to deny it. Every time she opened her smart mouth, he wanted to kiss her into silence - to yank her against him and feel the full length of her body pressing into his. He wondered what it would be like to have her beneath him - if she would still stare up at him with that mischievous smile of hers as he slid deep inside her, or would he finally have found the one thing that took her breath away…

“Vlad? You still there?”

“I’m here.” He forced his mind back to the conversation at hand, slightly alarmed at how violently his body reacted to the prospect of taking Charlotte as his lover. It was the last thing on earth he should ever consider, and yet he wanted her with such wild abandon that, sometimes, he wondered if he wouldn’t catch himself doing something completely and utterly idiotic. “Charlotte and I work well together. I think we’re slowly coming to understand one another.”

“Wonderful.” Jackson’s reply was enthusiastic, and Vlad relaxed slightly. It looked as if he had dodged a bullet. “You know, I always wondered how that girl would turn out. She was something of a hellion as a little one, if her father relayed the stories right.”

Vlad found his eyes widening slightly. Though Charlotte had given him a perfunctory rundown of her childhood - and he knew that her father and his were friendly - he’d never heard his father speak of her growing up. “She never wanted to fit into the mold,” Jackson continued, oblivious to the rapt attention his son paid the conversation. “When her mother died...it was as if she was determined to prove to everyone just how alive she was...Trevor always had his hands full. But I have to admit...she’s gone and impressed us both.” He exhaled a long breath. “I know she may not be the easiest to work with, Vlad, but Charlotte’s a tough nut to crack, I hear. She’ll gain your respect, no matter how much she bowls you over at first. So just tough it out.”

There was no better word for what he was doing. “Toughing it out” was literally the name of the game right now. Between the way his head spun whenever he looked at her designs and the way his body betrayed him when Charlotte was around, Vlad was literally on edge twenty-four-seven. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a decent night’s sleep - to the point where his ruminations broke into his working hours.

“Things are going well, father.” It was the best answer he could come up with. “Everything’s on schedule.”

“You are as efficient as always, my boy.” He could hear the smile in his father’s voice, and Vlad found his lips twitching in reply. “Just don’t forget to have a little fun while you’re out there.”

He hung up before Vladimir could reply, leaving the dark-haired man staring at the phone with a perturbed expression. Fun? How on earth could he be thinking about fun when he was slated to take over the company in six months’ time? There would be plenty of time for fun after. For now, he simply had to work on keeping his sanity intact.

His lunches with Charlotte were as close to fun as he was going to get for a while.

And they, Vlad realized, were quite enough as they were.

 

He stayed late in the office that night, determined to catch up where he’d fallen behind. He didn’t even break for dinner, even long after the sun sank below the horizon.

Though he knew Ethan oversaw accounting, he found himself looking over the numbers for the new building. When Charlotte laid her plans down in front of him all those weeks ago, one of his primary concerns had been the cost. He couldn’t imagine something as flagrantly flamboyant as what she provided would be within their budget. But, according to Ethan, not only did the building fit, it came in at well below what the cost of such a project might be.

Vladimir checked the figures again and again, his frown deepening all the time. Certainly, there was no way these were accurate. It was the first time he had ever doubted Ethan’s work, and he found himself penning an e-mail to his brother with his concerns. He was surprised when the younger man replied almost immediately - before he reminded himself that the east coast was three hours behind LA.

Hi Vlad,

Somehow, I knew this would come up. It is my delight to tell you not to get your panties

in a bunch. Yes, the design is unconventional - and the building is undeniably bigger

than any we’re ever commissioned before - but the city of Los Angeles took all these

figures into account before they approved the building ordinance. LA has recently been

on a clean building initiative, wherein they give buildings that are gentler on the

environment precedence over blueprints that aren’t as environmentally friendly. I’ve

taken the liberty of providing a list of some of the major materials that Gardner calls

for in her designs, their costs, and the costs of some of their less ecologically sound

counterparts. I know you’re not an architecture buff, but surely you can use that big brain of yours and do the math.

Cheers,

Ethan

P.S → This matchmaker is ruining me for other women. Save me from myself.

Vlad read the email twice, ignoring the postscript - every woman ruined Ethan for every other woman - before opening the attachment his brother added.

It took him a good hour to read through it, and during that hour, he forgot about everything else on his to-do list. He forgot how tired he was and he forgot how nonsensical Charlotte’s design had seemed before because this...this made sense.

Despite the building’s size and the protracted construction time, the materials Charlotte called for were both dirt-cheap and green, as well as being stronger than their usual counterparts in several places. Though he knew the project would be hooked into solar power, the figures clicked when he saw how much cheaper the panels would ultimately be when compared to conventional methods. The many gardens that dotted the grounds would be sewn with plants that weren’t only for aesthetic appeal - they were good for the environment, repelled mosquitoes and termites, and served as beds for compost piles - all of which would save the company millions over the first five years.

Ethan was right - he wasn’t an architecture buff, and so he couldn’t use his limited knowledge of the art to help him understand Charlotte’s designs.

But numbers always spoke for themselves - and these numbers he could more than appreciate.

It appeared they had finally found a common language - he could thank Ethan for that.

It was around eleven thirty that night when a soft tap came against his office door and Vladimir straightened in surprise. He assumed that he would be the only one left in the building this late, but when he looked up, he was surprised to see a familiar pair of honey colored eyes peering in through the small window in his office door.

“Come in.” The words left him before he could even contemplate them, and then Charlotte was bustling into the room, her arms full of blueprints. She wasn’t, he noticed immediately, even remotely dressed for work. A pair of what he assumed to be yoga pants clung to her slender legs and the ripe curve of her behind. Her hair was shoved back from her face into a messy ponytail that spilled down her back, and she wore a black hoodie that read: I’m an architect. To save time, let’s assume I’m never wrong.

“I’m sorry to burst in so late, but I wanted to make sure that you saw these before I give them to the boys on site tomorrow.” She attempted to organize the plans in her arms but gave up after a moment, merely setting them aside in a nearby armchair before picking the first one from the top of the pile. “That way you don’t have anything to say about me sneaking in any last-minute changes behind your back.”

It took Vladimir a moment to recover from the unexpected sight of her - especially dressed as she was. Before Charlotte, he believed there was nothing more alluring than a woman in an evening gown - but this woman was challenging his standards of beauty. Standing before him in her sports garb, looking as if she hadn’t slept in the past twenty-four hours, she was the absolute most decadent thing he’d ever seen. Her cheeks were flushed from her journey to his office in the cool morning air, and her eyes, though tired, were bright with excitement.

It was all too easy for him to pretend that enthusiasm was for him alone.

“Changes?” Instead of commenting on how much he’d like to sweep everything off his desk and have her on it, Vladimir instead asked the question he knew she’d expect.

“Just little ones. Can I move these?” She indicated the stack of unfinished paperwork on his desk, and Vlad found himself nodding before he could really consider it. When Charlotte moved them aside, a number of forms slid to the floor - meaning he would have to reorder them later. Normally, such an act might have caused him a slight conniption.

But, just then, Vlad found he cared little.

Charlotte unrolled one set of blueprints before him on his desk, revealing a simulation of the first floor/ lobby area. “I’ve been looking at the foundations to make sure that everything is even, that the weight distributions remain the same...and I’ve just made a few little cosmetic fixes - you can see here, and here,” she indicated with a slender finger. “I’ve widened the main entryway to make sure traffic doesn’t get held up there. And I’ve added a few private offices in the back...I know that you weren’t too crazy about all that open space.” She emphasized the words with a small smile before showing them to him. “Nothing big...but I just wanted to ok them with you and make sure that everyone is on the same page before we actually start work on the first floor proper.”

For a long time, there was silence between them. Leaning over his desk, Vlad perused the plans, nothing the changes carefully. As Charlotte stated, they weren’t any huge alterations to the plans in general. They were little. So little, in fact, that she probably could have shown them to the crew without asking his leave first.

But she had come to him.

It was oddly touching.

Six weeks ago, Vlad didn’t think Charlotte would have bothered. In fact, it had never occurred to him until that moment how close they might have come to a power play. If he hadn’t spoken to Lucas...hadn’t forced himself to confront his unease...well, they might be in a very different situation indeed. Yet now, here they were - he would have to be blind not to see that Charlotte was compromising her plans for the first floor to give him a little of what he wanted - to make him feel more in control.

Running a hand through his dark hair, he looked up at her, the corners of his mouth turning upward in appreciation. “They look wonderful. Thank you, Charlotte.”

Almost instantly, a wild change came over her face. She had been gazing at him anxiously - almost as anxiously, he realized, as the first time he had gone over her plans with her. And this time, the outcome was very different.

Her next actions caught him completely off guard. Throwing herself across the desk, Charlotte wrapped her arms around him tightly in a surprisingly intimate embrace. All at once, all of her warmth, her curves, her scent - he was completely assaulted by the essence of Charlotte Gardner.  She squeezed him tightly - though far from tight enough to make him uncomfortable - but Vladimir still found himself struggling for breath.

She had never been so close. He had always been careful to make sure she never got this close, because having her this close was dangerous. The silky softness of her cheek pressed against his rougher one - he hadn’t shaved in at least two days - and Vlad’s body immediately entered into a vicious battle with his rational mind.

It was a hug. Just a hug. A rather enthusiastic one, but it wasn’t license for him to do any of the things swirling around his head just now. Vlad found that he couldn’t even hug her back. In fact, his hands were curled so tightly about the edge of the table that he would swear he heard the wood splintering.

He endured a good five seconds of what could only be described as the most heavenly torture he had ever gone through before Charlotte finally realized that he wasn’t as enthusiastic about the gesture as she was. She pulled back almost immediately, her face a deep red. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean...I was just….” She scrambled for words, her hands twisting uncomfortably before her. “I mean...thanks.”

And now he felt like a fool. His sitting stiff as a board had obviously embarrassed her - even if he had only done so to keep from doing something wildly inappropriate. But now, Vlad wasn’t sure which was worse, watching her flounder for words when the awkwardness between them was his fault or resisting the urge to see if that full mouth of hers tasted as sweet as he imagined.

He stood from his desk, making a low sound of irritation in the back of his throat.  This was ridiculous. At this point, he was faced with one of two choices. Vladimir was tired - exhausted, in fact, of this whole charade. And right now, he didn’t feel like keeping it up any more.

So fuck it.

Before she could continue making apologies, he rounded his desk to take her wrist and jerk her against him. He barely registered the young woman’s shocked expression a moment before his mouth descended onto hers.

And then he forgot everything else.

He thought she might struggle. Might pull back and slap the ever-loving hell out of him before merely storming out of his office.

But Charlotte did none of that. Instead, she instantaneously melted against him with a soft moan that might have been worth all the discomfort he had endured over the past month. Vlad’s arms closed around her like a vice to pull her flush against him and he groaned as his tongue slipped between her lips.

He could never have imagined this. Not the way her fingers curled into his shoulders or the way her tongue darted out immediately to slide against his. She tasted like coffee and wine - like everything forbidden in the world - and he wanted all of her. One hand raised to sift through those unkempt, copper curls that had so tempted him, freeing them from their ponytail so they spilled down her back. Vlad thought they might be tangled and wild, but they were the softest thing he had ever touched. He found his fingers tangling in her hair greedily - tight enough that he knew he must be hurting her - but Charlotte didn’t complain. On the contrary, she merely mewled - almost like a kitten, standing on her toes to be closer to him.

Which was a mistake, on her part.

Once she gave an inch, Vlad took a mile. He couldn’t help it. What was left of his rational mind had fled the moment she made that sound...that sweet, needy little sound. He nipped hungrily at her lower lip a moment before his mouth slanted demandingly against hers. Where they might have been dueling for dominance of the kiss before, now, there was no question that he was in control - every flick of his tongue and teasing bite of his teeth making her tremble in his arms.

Vlad reached out briefly to sweep her carefully drawn plans from his desk before breaking their kiss briefly to lift Charlotte by her hips and set her on the edge. If she was going to say anything, her words were cut off the moment his mouth covered hers once more. He tugged her to the very edge of the desk - until one of her legs wrapped obligingly about his hips and his almost painful erection pressed against the scalding center of her.

Vladimir - he of few expletives - cursed intensely against her mouth, tugging her lower lip between his teeth sharply as he rubbed against her unabashedly.

He would never have thought it would be like this. Vlad knew he was far beyond the age that he could attest to his impulses ruling him. He was no untried teenager - but somehow, Charlotte tempted him beyond reason. He was intoxicated with the taste of her - and was rapidly wondering how much longer he could take her body sliding temptingly against his even with all the layers of clothes that remained between them. He wanted nothing more than to strip her of the tight yoga pants she wore and bury himself inside her until he didn’t know where he stopped and she began.

He was hungry for her - that was the only explanation. Hungrier had he had ever been for food, thirstier than he had ever been for even water...It was as if she triggered something in him that he couldn’t reign in. An animal that needed to be fed or the consequences would be disastrous.

He tore his mouth from hers to nip and suck over the length of her throat, tasting the salty tang of her sweat along with an alluring flavor that was simply her. When he tugged her sweatshirt down roughly to bare one shoulder, she made a soft sound that might have been protest - but then he was biting her there - marking her there, and the sound turned to a gasp.

After all his reservations - all the time that he’d held himself in check - she would be his. He needed her like he needed to draw his next breath and -

The loud jangling of the phone cut suddenly into what had only been silence and heavy breathing. The first time, it startled him. The second ring somehow managed to jog him back to his senses, and, for the first time, Vladimir realized the compromising position that he found himself in. Charlotte sat on the edge of the desk, one of her slender legs wrapped around his, her head back and neck pockmarked with his attentions, large eyes glazed over with unmistakable pleasure. One of his hands was tangled in her hair, the other around her waist, holding her to him almost possessively as he drank his fill of her.

Fuck.

Fuck.

The phone rang again, and though Vlad had been jogged from his desirous haze, that didn’t stop him from wanting to go right back to what he had just been doing - from wanting to finish what they had started.

But that, he knew, would be suicide. For both of them.

He forced himself to release her, to take a step back and smooth his hair where her fingers had gripped at it desperately. He needed a moment away from her, or else he’d lose it again. “I’d better answer that.” His voice was low and husky, and he turned from her to answer the phone with surprising crispness, considering what he’d just been doing. “Vladimir Kensley.”

“Vlad, it’s Shiro.” His brother’s voice came across the line warmly. “Sorry to call you so late, but I just wanted to warn you, Dad has some Russian business on the horizon, so be on the lookout for that. I’m in Prague, and it reached me through the grapevine.”

“Ah.” His brain was still effectively scrambled, even if he sounded clandestine. “I’ll make a note of it.”

“Right. Make sure everything there is on lockdown before you go. Don’t want to lose any time on the project.”

“Of course not.” Vlad returned, with more force this time. “I would never.”

“I’m teasing, Vlad.” Shiro’s slightly accented tones held a wry edge. “See you in Russia.”

Just before he hung up, however, a female voice edged in from the background - an unfamiliar female voice. “Toshiro? Did you tell him?”

Who the hell was that? Toshiro usually travelled alone. He hadn’t hired anyone knew as far as Vlad knew. Before he could ask his brother who was there with him, Shiro hung up, leaving Vlad staring at the phone curiously.

Within a few seconds, however, he remembered that he had bigger fish to fry. When he turned around, he found that Charlotte was still perched precariously on the edge of his desk. She had tugged her clothes back into place and was eying him uncertainly.  “That was your brother,” she finally managed, an arousing tinge of breathlessness still on the edge of her voice. “The Japanese one.”

“Yes.” He managed, replacing the phone on the cradle before rounding the desk once more to stand before her. Vlad thought that a few minutes away from her would have brought him round, but he realized he was just going to have to accept that as long as Charlotte was within a twenty-foot radius, he was going to have to contend with his starving libido. “Charlotte…” How the hell was he supposed to salvage this? The quickest and dirtiest way would be to apologize to her. To call the entire thing a mistake.

Perhaps his youngest brother was rubbing off on him, but Lucas wasn’t quite ready to make a faux pas that gigantic. “Look...I didn’t mean to…”

“Kiss me.” She finished for him blandly, her expression falling somewhat. “You didn’t mean to kiss me. And you’re sorry.”

“Hell no.” The words left him with more intensity than he had intended, and the young woman’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “I certainly meant to kiss you.” He decided that honesty was probably the best policy at this point.

Even though what they were doing was idiotic and reckless. Even though he was the world’s foremost opponent of relationships in the workplace and this went against everything he had been taught. He’d spent a large portion of his life relying on logic - being the one with all the answers.

But he’d be damned if he had one now.

“Charlotte, this isn’t what I planned. I’m trying my best to be civil when it’s all I can do to keep my baser impulses at bay.”

“Baser...impulses.” The younger woman repeated, her kiss-swollen lips moving lingeringly over the words. “You mean you want to fuck me.”

The words went straight to his erection - which had just begun to think about waning. Of course, those plans were cancelled the moment Charlotte let fly with her less than clandestine suggestion. He exhaled an unsteady breath. “You have a filthy mouth, you know that?” The comment hissed out from between clenched teeth, and Charlotte only grinned.

“No, I’m honest. The question is: Am I right?”

Goddamn it. He gave an inch, she took a mile. She was more like him than he might have believed.

“Even if I do,” He returned carefully, “This is hardly the place or time...and our working relationship isn’t of a nature that I would consider throwing away just because I want…” He trailed off, watching her watch him with eyes just as darkly desirous as they had been moments after he kissed her. She wanted him to admit it. She wanted to hear him say the words, the little minx.

So he indulged her. “Just because I want to fuck you.”

A visible shudder passed through her and Vlad’s fists clenched by his sides. She was going to be the death of him. She really was.  “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to, Charlotte.” He added, his voice taking on a stern edge.

The redhead’s expression sobered as she stared up at him, her hazel eyes genuinely confused.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because,” he rebuffed immediately, “We’re adults. We’re colleagues and we’re supposed to be working together. Whatever might be between us, it would be immature to forget that.”

Now he sounded more like himself. His voice was still low and throaty, and he still wanted her like the fucking dickens, but somehow, he had managed to gain an edge.

Charlotte merely continued to look up at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Just when Vlad thought he might have to do something horrible - like ask her to leave his office before they ended up right back where they started, she slid from the edge of his desk.

“You’re right.” She might have surprised him more only if she had sprouted wings and flown away. Thankfully, she wasn’t facing him, so she didn’t see his shocked expression at her almost casual statement.  “I should go.”

This woman confused him more and more with each passing moment. Literally two minutes ago, she had started with all this business of fucking and now she was about to walk away from him - which was, Vlad reminded himself, what he’d wanted all along. Wasn’t it?

Bending over, Charlotte afforded him a generous view of her behind as she picked up the documents she had dropped from his desk and stacked them neatly before replacing them. Her blueprints got the same treatment - if a little more care - before joining them. “Take a look at the rest of the plans I brought, and if you have any questions, we can discuss it tomorrow. Over lunch.”

A lunch he would spend the entirety of remembering how she moaned when he pressed his jutting erection against her.

“Right. Tomorrow.” He hoped his voice didn’t betray his wariness. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you tomorrow...Vladimir.”  She called him by his given name so seldom that the sound alone was more than enough to arouse him. But after what had just happened in his office? Vlad knew, the moment the door shut behind her, that the only way he

as going to sleep that night at all was after a little alone time with his dominant hand.

 

Chapter 6 - A New Project

 

“He did what now?”

Charlotte still couldn’t believe it herself. She was out with Lila and Benny for drinks - the first lull in work she’d had since they’d begun to work on the first floor of the Kensley center, and the young woman was recalling what had happened when she took it upon herself to drop off some late-night blueprints. Charlotte was still in shock a week later.

She could still feel the possessive grip of his hands on her waist as he devoured her mouth, the masterful way he shoved between her legs like he belonged there…

It had surprised the hell out of her.

Not that she hadn’t thought that Vladimir was sexual. She hadn’t met a man yet who was asexual, and she hadn’t counted Vladimir among their numbers. It was just that she would never have thought...never had hoped that he’d be interested in her.

Well, that was a lie.

She had hoped. Hoped without any foundation whatsoever. Dreamed of the man touching her in ways he had more than fulfilled that day in his office. Vladimir Kensley, whatever measure she’d made of him, didn’t stop to worry with analytics and what was most efficient when he was absorbed in his task.

And he’d certainly been absorbed in her.

More than she would ever have imagined.

“Lottie. Lottie.” She was jerked from the memory and back to the present to find Lila grinning knowingly at her. “That good, huh?”

Benny, however, looked slightly confused. “Wait, wait. Hold on a second. This is the same Vladimir Kensley we’re talking about, right? Stick-up-the ass Vladimir Kensley? Over analytical Vladimir Kensley who was trying to get you fired?”

“He wasn’t trying to get me fired,” Charlotte corrected him, somewhat embarrassed. She knew it might have been easy to believe such a thing from the way she carried on the first two weeks she was employed, but things were different now. “He was trying to make sure my designs were in the best interests of the company.”

“And if they weren’t, he was going to get you fired.” Benny rebutted dryly, making Charlotte’s cheeks flush.

“Well, probably,” she agreed sullenly, “But not maliciously. This guys is just...obsessed with the wellbeing of his company.”

“He’s not so obsessed that it kept him from trying to do the dirty in his office when push came to shove.” Lila took a sip of her martini. “You say he just came at you? Out of nowhere.”

“That’s not what I said,” Charlotte groaned. “I just took him the blueprints, and when he told me they looked wonderful… I mean…. Jesus, the man has never paid me a real compliment so I was kind of enthusiastic. I hugged him. And then...after the hug…”

“He attacked you and sucked your face off.” Lila was having entirely too much fun with this - that much was evident by her smirk and the way she amended certain events Charlotte told her about.

“He didn’t attack me…”

“My guess…” Ben mused, taking a careful sip of his own beer, “Is that he’s liked you for a while, and that little stunt triggered something.”

For a while? How long was a while!? Charlotte was pretty sure that, when they met, Vladimir couldn’t stand her. In the past few weeks they had just come to a kind of agreement in their lunches together. It was their time to talk about the project, for a bit of playful banter, and a medium through which they could get to know one another.

Never, once, during that time, had she thought that Vladimir might be looking at her with anything other than careful tolerance. Friendly interest, at the most, but nothing that would make him handle her the way he did.

The way she longed for him to.

Charlotte honestly didn’t think she’d ever had a more erotic experience in her thirty years. Sure, she’d been laid. She’d even been laid in some very exotic places - but still, the sex was sex. What Vlad had done to her...it had triggered something carnal. Something she had only, until that encounter, felt when she woke up from a particularly vivid sexual dream.

Only this time, it hadn’t been a dream. Vladimir had really been touching her, really kissing her...and Charlotte had almost lost her mind. Despite his tentativeness with everything else, the man had no hesitancy when it came to his physical needs. It was funny, up until a week ago, Charlotte had spent a good chunk of time wondering what kind of woman Vladimir Kensley liked. He seemed the type to be drawn to high class socialites - prim, pretty little daughters of rich parents who aimed to marry well and produce upper crust brats who would repeat the same process all over again.

She had laughed at the very notion. While Charlotte knew she wanted kids one day, she would make sure that they worked just as hard as she did to get what they wanted. The work was part of the experience. The last thing Charlotte wanted was to be a mother to children who didn’t know the value of hard work. That would be doing her father a disservice - at least, that was the way she saw things.

But she was hardly thinking of having kids just now, and she certainly wasn’t thinking of having them with Vladimir Kensley. She merely thought it was funny that she had been so wrong about the way his interests ran. Or maybe she was right and she was the exception to the rule. She was available, so she was what he went after.

But, somehow, Charlotte didn’t think that was it. Vladimir had touched her as if he’d been wanting to do it for half a lifetime - and once he started, she wasn’t sure he’d stop. She hadn’t wanted him to stop. She would have been quite content if he’d fucked her right there on the desk. She’d even tried to goad him into it.

Which hadn’t worked. Quite the contrary in fact. He had all but turned her own ploys against her and she retreated with her tail between her legs.

Wanting more.

“So now what?” Lila asked her, signaling to the waiter for another martini. This place had one of the best happy hour specials in the city, and they were taking full advantage of it. Honestly, Charlotte probably wouldn’t have spilled so much if she wasn’t three drinks in, but with a little buzz, it was good to finally get all this off her chest. “He’s admitted he wants to do you, you know you want to do him, but it probably isn’t a good idea for either of you.”

“Definitely not a good idea,” Charlotte amended, asking for another martini herself. “It would fuck up literally everything.”

“Including you.”

“Lila, for the love of God, grow up.” Benny elbowed her at the comment and Lila elbowed him right back, emboldened by the alcohol.

“What? I’m just looking out for her.”

“I can look out for myself,” Charlotte piped up in her own defense.

Lila merely sighed. “What did you have to eat today?” It was a good question. She hadn’t had the opportunity to meet Vladimir for lunch - their lunches since their little midnight office interlude had been a little awkward anyway, like trying to pretend a bomb hadn’t detonated - so she had worked right through it.

Which meant she was currently drinking on an empty stomach. Sheepishly, she eyed her friend and Lila merely made a knowing sound. “Right. Take care of yourself.”

“Well, let’s get some wings then!” Benny gestured to the waitress who was passing by with a tray of cocktails.

It would be good if she got something into her stomach, but just then, wings were the furthest thing from Charlotte’s mind. What she wanted was to be in Vladimir Kensley’s arms again - kissing him without a care in the world. Ready and willing to see just how much of a control freak he was.

God help her.

 

She worked through the next weekend. Charlotte meant to take a few hours off to see a movie with Lila, but, after starting the Kensley building, she had a sudden influx of inquiries from around LA for designs. Though she had been a rising star before, her popularity had fairly exploded overnight. Of course, she barely had the time to tackle Vladimir’s project with all the demands he was making of her, but Charlotte wasn’t lax enough to ignore her full inbox. She did the best she could to start a few mock-ups, make sure people maintained interest.

The Kensley building might be the beginning, but it certainly wasn’t the end. When she finished here, she would need to keep a steady line of work up if she wanted to open her own firm. She would need to find people that shared the same liberal ideas she did where architecture was concerned - though that hardly seemed to be a problem anymore.

If she could get Vladimir Kensley to come around, everything else should be cake, right? And he was halfway there -or so she liked to think.

There was one e-mail, however, that caught her eye. It was from an oil and fuel subsidiary in Russia that was looking to renovate an office building in St. Petersburg. It was evident from the pictures they sent her that the structure had good bones, and she found herself inexplicably excited. It was one of few international requests she’d gotten, and she was just aching to go abroad - as much to stretch her wings as to see other cities’ architecture first hand.

Of course, she knew she couldn’t just leave in the middle of the project that was her big break. But that didn’t stop her from taking a Saturday afternoon at her drawing table to start some designs. While Charlotte had intended the endeavor to be a simple exercise, she ended up whiling away the afternoon and most of the evening - and before she knew it, she had the bare bones of a complete set of plans.

She couldn’t not send them off.

It wasn’t even a given that she would get a reply. Charlotte knew that she was probably only one of many they’d sent the invitation to, and she’d be lucky if they even responded at all.

But they did.

Shocking the hell out of her, the company replied less than three hours after she’d submitted her rough sketches, and when she read their response, Charlotte almost fell out of her chair.

They wanted her. They wanted her to come to Russia and work on the remodeling of their building.

What the hell kind of dream was she living in? First, she somehow managed to get the Kensley project over several much more qualified and lauded architects in the same city, and then some company in Russia all but streamlined her to the front of the crowd?

Honestly, she expected to wake up at any moment.

But, luckily, a very hard, very painful pinch asserted to her that this was not, in fact, a dream. She was very much awake.

Which meant that if she wanted any chance of tackling this project at all, she was going to have to see how it meshed with the building schedule of Vladimir’s project.

There was no way in hell he would let her go - kiss or not. It was against his code of ethics. If he was taking his time to be at the jobsite almost every day, it was almost certain that he wasn’t about to let her skive off on another project. It was almost enough to make Charlotte wish they were sleeping together. Then, she might have been able to use some of her feminine charm.

After about ten minutes of something bordering on panic, she forced herself to take a seat at her drawing table and really think. There had to be a way for her to handle this. Major architects worked on more than one project at a time almost constantly. She wasn’t quite big leagues yet, but who said that she couldn’t do the same?

All she needed was Vladimir’s approval.

Before she could even begin to come up with any far-fetched plans, her phone buzzed from just beside her, making her jump. It was close to ten in the evening. Who on earth would be calling her at this hour? Everyone was in bed already - she should be in bed.

But, instead, she was staring at her phone -and nearly dropping it when she realized that the one calling her was none other than Vladimir Kensley herself.

For a moment, the panic returned. Why would he be calling her? The only other time he’d ever called her had been to ask her where she was when she’d woken up late one morning. She didn’t think Kensley was the type to courtesy call - even if he had admitted to wanting to fuck her.

Tentatively, she answered. “Vladimir?”

“Charlotte.” His reply was crisp - just like he was - with just a hint of that ungodly sexy accent. Charlotte did her best not to remember what he’d sounded like when she wrapped her legs around him...as if it were all he could do to keep himself from eating her alive… “Sorry to contact you so late, but I wanted to talk to you about Russia.”

The young woman’s eyes widened in shock. He wanted to talk to her about Russia? Exactly what did he want to talk about? Had he somehow found out that she was doing some extra designing on the side? Was she in trouble?

“What about Russia?” She tried sounding as innocent as she could.

“They want us to leave in the next two weeks to take a look at the building. They wouldn’t require you to be there for the entire build, of course - they know how important our work is here in LA-”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Charlotte stopped him, her head spinning in confusion. What in the world was he talking about? They? Did that mean that the company in Russia had already informed him that they wanted her for the project and he approved? That was better than anything she could have hoped for.  “What project are you talking about? I’m a little lost.”

When he next spoke, Vladimir sounded somewhat surprised. “Dansk hasn’t yet told you they’ve chosen your design?”

Dansk was the name of the company that had just contacted her! “Well, yeah, they have; but when did they tell you?”

To her surprise a low, amused chuckle came through the receiver. It was enough to send a surge of heat rushing through her belly as her toes curled. “Charlotte, Dansk is a subsidiary of Kensley Enterprises. It appears my father is quite fond of your work.”

For a long moment, Charlotte could only gape. Jackson Kensley was the one who had OK’ed her design for Dansk? She knew that he liked her designs, but two for two...when she wasn’t even finished with the first one? Now she had to wonder…

“I... suppose I certainly can’t complain,” she managed, resolving to talk to her father about this entire scenario. Though she was always grateful for work - especially work from a company as renown as Kensley enterprises, she had to wonder if he wasn’t talking her up to Jackson - trying to make her seem larger than life.

It didn’t sound like him. Though Trevor Gardner was more than happy to brag about his daughter, he never did it unprovoked. He liked to let Charlotte speak for herself under most circumstances.  But it was hard for the redhead to think of any scenario where Jackson Kensley might have pinpointed her for two such important projects, one right after the other.

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Vladimir’s crisp reply brought her back to the matter and hand - and that matter would be that, apparently, she was going to be traveling to Russia with him.  She was going to Russia with Vladimir Kensley.

Charlotte found herself muffling the cry of unparalleled delight that rose in her throat. She could only imagine what a plethora of architectural delights St. Petersburg would be - how much inspiration she could draw for her own work. And then there was the project itself. She’d never been the head of a remodel as extensive as the one for Dansk, and they were basically giving her free reign.

If this was a dream, she prayed she wouldn’t wake up. “In any event, I called you to talk about our travel arrangements.” Vladimir’s statement brought to bear another, glaringly important aspect of this trip. It was clear that they were meant to travel together - and Charlotte was going to have to contend with that fact.

“What about them?” She inquired tentatively. She imagined they might take the same plane, or perhaps the company was going to comp her for travel entirely. But Vladimir’s explanation turned out to be neither of those things - and practically blew the top of her head off.

“We’ll be taking the Kensley jet to St. Petersburg next Wednesday. We’re expected to stay in St. Petersburg for about three weeks, so you’ll want to make sure he has everything to make sure the framing goes smoothly in your absence.”

Three weeks. Three weeks!?

Also: a private jet? What the almighty hell!?

“Three whole weeks?” She found herself exclaiming in surprise. “I can’t be away from the project for a month! What if they need me?”

“If there’s an emergency,” Vlad provided almost casually, “We can fly you back to LA. But considering the foundations are done and Charles has literally hundreds of pages of detail on the frame, I think your time would be better served in St. Petersburg - if only for a little while.”

“And...and you?” Charlotte grasped vainly for any other protests that might save her from what promised to be a very dangerous undertaking. “Why do you have to go if Jackson’s overseeing the project?”

“He’s not.” Vladimir returned - he had an answer for everything. “The project actually falls under Toshiro’s jurisdiction, but he doesn’t speak Russian. I do. And I have intimate ties with the country.”

Of course he did. He’d been born there, for Christ sake. How could she imagine he wouldn’t take the opportunity to go to Russia if one presented itself? Or that the company would so much as hesitate for a single second to send him there?

But those, Charlotte knew, weren’t her real problems. The more pressing issue lie with the heavy air of sexual tension that pervaded every time they were together. Ever since that kiss - if it could even be called that; Vladimir had all but dry-fucked her against the edge of his desk - she could hardly think about anything else when she was with him. Oh, they pretended everything was normal. They carried on with their lunches and made small talk about the project, the weather, and everything in between - but it was obvious what each of them was really thinking about. There were times Charlotte caught him looking at her out of the corner of her eye - and the hunger in his deep blue gaze was enough to make every muscle in her body clench in obscene desire.

But they were, as Vladimir had so poignantly reminded her, adults. Adults who happened to be working together in close quarters, and, as such, would maintain a platonic working relationship, regardless of the heated tension between them.

It helped, of course, that when they met they were almost always in public places. At a street stall or a restaurant for lunch, or else on the job site. When they were surrounded by people, it was easier for her to pretend that she didn’t want to climb the man like a fucking tree.

But she presumed they would be the only ones traveling to Russia in that jet - meaning they would be alone, and all that kept her from giving into her screaming libido was her sensibilities.

And she didn’t know how much she trusted them. “Are you there, Charlotte?” She realized, in a split second, that he was talking to her, and she had missed what he said completely.

“I’m here, sorry.” She recovered quickly. “What did you say?”

“I said pack for cold weather.”

Charlotte arched a brow. “But it’s spring.”

“In LA, it’s perpetually spring,” Vladimir returned dryly. “I’ll e-mail you the details. Until next Wednesday, Charlotte.” With those last words, he hung up the phone, leaving the young woman staring at it, utterly flummoxed.

When they weren’t in the same room, Vladimir was all too adept at pretending he hadn’t all but mauled her in his office. He was just as formal and impersonal as he’d been when they first met - and it was almost enough for her to let her guard down. After all, she too, could pretend, Charlotte reminded herself. She had spent the first few weeks of their acquaintance pretending she wasn’t insanely attracted to the man - should a single kiss really change all of that?

She set her phone back down on her drawing table with a frown. She knew damned well it had - but like hell if she would let Vladimir know it. It might very well kill her, but she wouldn’t touch him on this trip. Just as he’d suggested, she would do the adult thing, and move beyond her impulses. If he could do it, then she certainly could. She wouldn’t let herself be outdone by a man that thought everything boiled down to hard analyses and predictability.

He might even predict that the sexual strain between them would undo her - he could be counting on it. The thought was outlandish, she knew, but no more outlandish than the man kissing her in the first place, and Charlotte planned to prepare for everything to the very best ability.

Dress warm, he said? She’d dress in a fucking furry muumuu every single day. He wouldn’t catch a glimpse of even the tiniest inch of bare skin if she could get away with it.

Certainly, she was excited to be going to Russia, but she was going to pull a Kensley on this one: the job came first. She was going there to work, and she was going to act, at least, that Vlad accompanying her was just convenience.

That, after all, was a lot more likely than him having some crazy plan to get into her pants. He didn’t seem like the type. In fact, she knew he wasn’t.

But it wouldn’t hurt to be on her guard, just in case.

 

Though, when she hung up with Vladimir, Charlotte thought a week was a fairly adequate amount of time to prepare herself for international travel, she was surprised at how quickly the time zipped by. Of course, a large portion of that time was taken up by work.

All at once, Charlotte couldn’t imagine how she might have once feared she wouldn’t have enough to live on. By that same token, she was very quickly learning why architects didn’t usually work on more than one project at a time.

Where she usually didn’t get more than a few hours of sleep on any given night, she now found herself all but run ragged. She woke every morning exhausted to hurry to the job site and make sure that Charlie was adequately preparing for her absence.

Since Vladimir had shut down his questionable comments about her, the man had been nothing but polite. Perhaps even stiffly so, but Charlotte preferred that to assuming that she was some spoiled little brat. However, he was putting her through her paces. He had reacted with genuine shock when it was revealed that both she and Vladimir were leaving the country, and now he scrambled to make sure he could manage the job site efficiently while they were gone. This, of course, meant that he wanted every detail, every single minute piece of paper she had on the framing, and Charlotte struggled to provide.

While she was in the process of organizing reams of notes on the LA building, she was also racing against the clock where her newest project was concerned. They had approved her sketches, but Charlotte knew she would be expected to present detail blueprints by the time they reached Russia. This meant that, whenever she wasn’t at the job site, she was pouring over her drawing table, churning out ideas as fast as they could pop into her head.

Lila popped her head in on her numerous times to make sure she didn’t forget to eat - but it was no use trying to get her to sleep. Charlotte slept so little that she considered it wasted time. There were short periods where she dozed, fitfully, against her desk. In her not quite dreams, Vladimir was there. Only instead of trying to analyze her every move, he was pulling her into his arms and kissing her like he had never needed anyone so badly. He was inside her, whispering her name roughly as he brought her more pleasure than she might have thought existed and doing a whole myriad of things that she shouldn’t have been dreaming about at all.

But when had Charlotte Gardner ever been able to control the depths of her dreams?

She worked feverishly as the window of time she had continued to shrink. There were four days, then two, then one...then less than twelve hours. When she fell asleep at her desk this time, even her insomnia didn’t keep her from rousing.

Charlotte fell into a slumber so deep it was mercifully dreamless as her body forced her to recharge. Lila looked in on her around eleven in the evening and paused for only long enough to drape a blanket over her friend. She was surprised Lottie had been able to keep going for as long as she had. With the workload on her shoulders, a crash was inevitable. Better now than when she couldn’t afford one.

She tiptoed from the room, leaving Charlotte as comfortable as she was going to get - and the redhead slept - long, deep and blissful.

 

**

Though Vlad knew that Charlotte wasn’t known for keeping in contact as well as she should, it worried him when she hadn’t called him the next morning. By the time ten o’clock rolled around -and their flight was set to take off in an hour and a half - he found himself slightly irked. He didn’t like to be late - even if the plane couldn’t really leave without them.

They had a schedule to keep in Russia - Vladimir was so wound up about it that he found none of the usual anticipation of a trip back to his mother country within him.

At first, he chalked it up to irritation - to stress, perhaps.

But after a moment of careful reflection, he realized that there was something else in the mix here. He excelled under stress, and he wasn’t the type of man who lost his temper quickly or easily.

Charlotte was the reason he was so bent out of shape.

He was worried about her.

That alone was unsettling enough - though Vladimir had slept with his fair share of women, even contemplated relationships with them, he couldn’t ever recall worrying about a woman so much that it affected his temperament.

But he would have to be blind to ignore how tired she seemed. She insisted to him - almost constantly, really - that she was a night owl. That she didn’t need more than a few hours of sleep every night to keep herself going. Vladimir didn’t know how much sleep she was getting as their trip to Russia loomed large before them, but he was willing to bet it was precious little. When he saw her on the job site, dark circles sagged beneath her eyes and she’d lost the usual pep in her step.

However, that didn’t mean that she had lost her drive. Charlotte still worked like a madman. When Charles called hourly meetings with her on the job site to look over blueprints, she indulged him. When she needed to explain things to the construction workers with his help, she did. She even went out of her way to continue to take him to new and innovating places for lunch, even if it seemed she sometimes forgot the food on her plate.

It was obvious that she was exhausted - and that thought weighed on him.

She was trying to build a firm -trying to make her way up in the world. This he knew. The question was: did she have to run herself half ragged to do it?

Ten thirty rolled around, and she still hadn’t called. By this time, he was almost fidgeting with impatience.

And Vladimir Kensley did not fidget.

He called her twice in the space of five minutes and she didn’t pick up. At this point, a little pinprick of anxiety began to work its way between her shoulder blades. God forbid she had passed out somewhere, overworked, and someone had taken advantage of her. Or she had gotten mugged the previous night on her way home.

Charlotte didn’t occur to him as the type of women to be a damsel in distress - at least, no distress that wasn’t her own making - but the scenarios weren’t impossible. And once they were planted in his head, his stomach twisted uncomfortably.

So he switched his tactics. From his hotel room, Vladimir called the office and spoke to the secretary, asking her for Charlotte’s address. Once he had it in hand, he called a car to take him to her apartment complex - a mere twenty minutes away.

It was absolutely no time at all - or, at least, it shouldn’t have been. Instead, Vladimir found every moment creeping along at a snail’s pace as he reminded himself how unlike her this was. She had only been late to work one morning, and she had answered the phone the moment he’d called her. This...he didn’t like this.

When he finally reached her apartment block, he all but yanked the door open, taking the steps two at a time. Vladimir rang the doorbell, hearing the tinny ding of the bell as it echoed through the apartment.

But no one came to answer it. He rang it again, giving it barely a moment before he knocked brusquely - loudly - on the door. “Charlotte!” He barked, anxiety adding an edge to his voice. “Open the door!”

Another ridiculously long moment passed before finally, finally he registered the sounds of someone moving around beyond the door. There came the dull snap of the lock being turned back a moment before an unfamiliar face appeared in the doorway.

An unfamiliar male face.

For the briefest moment, Vladimir was struck dumb. He thought he must have the wrong apartment, but a cursory glance at the number told him that he was, indeed, in the right place.

Which led him to draw other, worse conclusions.

The man stood a head shorter than him, and it was clear that he’d gotten up from bed to answer the door - though whose bed, Vlad didn’t want to think about. He ran a hand through his thick, dark brown waves before staring up at Vladimir blearily. “Looking for Lottie?”

In that instant, Vladimir was struck by a wild, completely unwelcome sensation: black, hot discomfort twisted up inside him as he imagined the man before him sharing a bed with Charlotte - whom he felt comfortable enough with to call by a nickname. It shouldn’t have mattered to him - it wasn’t supposed to - but he had just kissed her two short weeks ago.

There were times when he imagined he could still taste her on her lips; and despite the stoic exterior he struggled to keep in place, he certainly hadn’t forgotten it. Or stopped wanting a repeat performance any time she was within a ten-foot radius of him.

That was, perhaps, why the sight of this man sent something startlingly like rage coursing through him. It was the first time in his life Vlad had to fight to keep his temper under control. There was a large part of him - more than half, perhaps, that wanted to choke the life out of this skinny man. Who wanted to trod over his unconscious body and find where Charlotte lie beyond to claim her for his own.

Luckily, before that rash impulse could be betrayed in any fatal way, another head poked from the doorframe. A blonde, female head that looked first at the man, then up at Vladimir’s impeccable, suit-clad form in sleepy surprise. The only thing she wore was an oversized t-shirt, and it was clear that he’d woken her too. “Fuck.” She blinked, her eyes widening and her posture straightening somewhat as realization lit in her eyes. “Shit. Charlotte. Charlotte’s still asleep. Fuck.”

This, he pieced together quickly, could be none other than the roommate Charlotte had told him about - Lila. Her mouth was almost as foul as the redhead’s, and he wondered which of them had taught the other. “Babe,” Lila elbowed the man beside her in the ribs so he winced. “Make him some coffee or something. I have to get Charlotte up.”

Vlad heard every word she said, but his mind lingered gratefully - almost ecstatically - on the first.

Babe.

The stranger was her lover, not Charlotte’s - and the wave of warm relief that washed over him was almost enough to make him smile outright.

Almost.

After all, he’d come all this way - worried first about her, and then about who was sharing her bed, and now he came to find, after all that worrying, that she had just overslept? He opened his mouth to say something, only to have Lila beat him to the punch with a sheepish smile. “I am so sorry, Mr. Kensley. I was supposed to be waking her up...I know you guys have a flight to catch. But she hasn’t slept in days and she finally knocked out, so I-”

“Days?” Vladimir interrupted her sharply, taken aback. “Did you say days?”

Lila winced at the bite in his tone. “Well, she usually doesn’t sleep much, but she’s been trying to prepare for the trip and make sure everything on the site runs smoothly...don’t blame her. Really. I’ll have her up in a minute.”

But, by that point, all Vladimir’s irritation had bled away.

So he had been right to worry. She hadn’t really been sleeping at all. As exhausted as she looked, she must have felt even more tired...especially if she was still sleeping on a morning this important.

Lila, he noticed, was anxious to take all the blame onto herself. He had to wonder, for a moment, what stories Charlotte told her roommate to make her so skittish around him; but the thought passed quickly. He was much more concerned with the matter at hand: Charlotte, and how she’d so obviously overworked herself.

She needed rest. And its seemed almost petty, really, to wake her for something as trivial as a trip across town to the airport when they were going to be taking a private plane.

He exhaled a long breath, straightening his tie. “Lila, I presume?”

At his inquiry, the blonde girl flushed slightly. “Yeah, sorry.” She stuck her hand out and he shook it automatically. “We’re not usually early risers - not like Lottie, at least. This is my boyfriend, Benjamin.” Vlad shook Benjamin’s hand too, even though only moments before he had been on the cusp of disemboweling him. “Do you want to come in for some coffee or something while I wake her?”

Vlad took only a moment to consider. Though she might be sleeping now, Charlotte never neglected her work when it needed to be done. She was a character - a brash, impulsive, totally uncontainable force of nature who he still couldn’t even begin to understand, but he respected the hell out of her. At least, that was the only emotion he dared to put at the forefront of his mind at that particular moment.  She deserved this little reprieve after a hard week. “Is she packed already?” He finally inquired contemplatively.

“Oh, she’s been packed for the whole week. She’s over the moon.” Lila provided, her expression fond. In that moment, Vlad found himself slightly envious of her. It was obvious that she understood the way Charlotte ticked - knew it intimately, even. What must it be like to be like her, or his brother Lucas, and understand people so damn effortlessly?

“Blueprints and everything she’ll need for the trip?”

“Yep,” Lila confirmed, jerking a thumb backwards towards the dim interior of the apartment. “Bags are in the living room.”

“Alright then. You bring those out. Leave Charlotte to me.”

It was a bold statement - and Vlad realized, the moment he said it, that he was about to cross several boundaries that he’d set for himself. He tried to argue for function over anything else: Charlotte needed rest, he didn’t want to wake her, and it didn’t look like Benjamin could lift half as much as he himself. He moved past the shorter man and into the surprisingly tidy living space. “Where is she?”

Lila appeared for a moment as if she might protest, but then she merely raised a hand to point down a single hallway. “Study. Last door on the left.”

Vladimir went, making his way quietly down the corridor until he found himself before the closed door. It opened smoothly - soundlessly; and though he had expected to find a sleeping Charlotte inside, the sight of her momentarily stole his breath.

She was slumped over a large drawing table in the far corner of the room, breathing softly, a thick blanket draped over her. It looked as if she had still been working when she’d fallen asleep, as a charcoal pencil was clutched loosely in her hands. Her bright auburn curls spilled over her shoulder in a single braid coming half undone.

The usually brash and outspoken woman looked surprisingly vulnerable like this, her full lips slightly parted, lashes vivid on her freckled cheeks. All the fanfare and frantic speed had fled from her and here, now, she was just a sleeping woman. An exhausted woman who had been doing her job right up until the moment her body had given out on her.

Vlad found himself loathe to move her, but there was nothing to be had for it. They were already late, and the most he could grant her was a few more hours of sleep.

Soundlessly - almost tentatively - he moved across the room. When he tugged Charlotte’s wheeled chair ever so slightly back from the desk, she didn’t stir. Lila was right - she was, for lack of better words, completely knocked out. Beneath the blanket, he noticed that, thankfully, she was fully dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He had still yet to meet a woman that could make the casual garb look as good as she did. In a smooth movement, he bent slightly to haul her, bridal style, into his arms, blanket and all. He was surprised by how little she weighed - but then again, she hadn’t been eating much lately either.

When she woke, he was going to have to have a stern conversation with her about how she’d been pushing herself. It was all well and good to stay on a schedule, but she was going to make herself ill.

And he certainly couldn’t have that.

Vladimir told himself that it was out of pure necessity for her talents that he needed her healthy, but the way his body had begun to react to her nearness was quite contradictory to that line of thought. She smelled so damned good...and the moment he picked her up, she shifted slightly in his arms with a soft, sleepy sound that had him swallowing thickly as her body pressed up against his.

It was best he get her to the car quickly - before he did something he’d regret. 

Shifting her higher against his chest, Vladimir carried her from the study. When he entered the living room, both Benjamin and Lila were clutching what he presumed to be Charlotte’s bags. At the sight of him carrying her in his arms, Lila’s eyes widened slightly. She opened her mouth as if she might be about to say something, and then shut it just as quickly. “Um...where should we take her bags?” Those were the words she eventually settled on, but Vlad wasn’t idiotic enough to ignore there was something left unsaid.

And it probably had to do with the fact that he was carrying his sleeping colleague down to the car rather than waking her and marching her on her own two feet like any normal superior would do.

He was unmistakably soft in places he shouldn’t be where Charlotte Gardner was concerned, and if anyone would be able to tell, it would certainly be her best friend and roommate. But he wasn’t about to stop and have a discussion about it now. There was, he insisted firmly to himself, nothing to discuss. Charlotte needed sleep and he was making sure she got it. That was all.

“There’s a car outside - downstairs at the curb. Just load the bags in the trunk there.”

Lila led the way, Benjamin following in her wake with - to his merit - only a single glance back in Vladimir’s direction. The dark-haired man followed them outside to the gleaming Mercedes at the curb where they loaded the bags. With infinitely more care, Vladimir settled his cargo in the back seat of the car. It was strange - he had thought that maybe the jarring of the staircase - or even being moved - would be enough to wake her. But Charlotte slept on.

When Vlad straightened, it was to the sight of both Benjamin and Lila standing on the curb, peering over in his direction. When he caught them looking, Benjamin quickly transferred his gaze elsewhere, but Lila merely stared at him, uncowed.

“Take good care of her.” Those five words were all he needed to hear to know what would happen if he didn’t. They were, Vlad knew, words designed for a boyfriend. A lover that was spiriting her away to lands unknown. He was her boss, and they were merely working on a few projects together.

Nonetheless, he nodded solemnly. “Of course.”

With that, he slid into the car before things could get any more awkward between them. Inside a minute, the driver was off towards the airport, leaving the still drowsy and bewildered couple standing on the curb. Vlad wondered, absently, if Charlotte had told Lila about the incident between them in his office...or rather, how she had told her. If what Lucas told him about women was any indication, there was no chance she hadn’t told her.

But now was hardly the time to be contemplating all that.

Vlad knew he could hardly afford to get himself worked up when he would be with Charlotte in Russia for the next few weeks. It was a boon, really, that they would be meeting up with Toshiro there. His brother’s presence would remind him that he was only really in Russia for work, and Charlotte happened to be a necessary evil.

Though...it was certainly strange for his father to be enamored of a single architect. He usually liked to work with architecture firms - picking two or three individuals from the same company and then consulting with both them and their superiors to construct the building. Not only was his choosing Charlotte a huge departure from the usual building style he preferred, but the process he took in construction as well.

Leaning back against the plush leather seat, Vladimir eyed the woman still sleeping against the opposite window. What was it about her that so caught his father’s eye? And moreover, whatever it was, was it contagious? Because his judgement was certainly compromised where Charlotte was concerned.

He knew that he was going to have to be on his best behavior for the next three weeks - the question was: Would he last that long? They would be in separate hotel rooms, they probably wouldn’t be eating together like they had been...but they would still be working together. Would that be enough? Somehow, Vladimir was inclined to believe that whenever Charlotte was in the same city as him, he wouldn’t be able to forget how she tasted…. the intoxicating way she had arched against him - as if she wanted him inside her just as desperately as he wanted to be inside of her…

Vlad realized, with a start, that his hand was resting heavily on Charlotte’s thigh.

For at least a full minute, he stared at it, simultaneously shocked and alarmed.

He wasn’t even aware that he had shifted at all. Of course, now he could feel the soft smoothness of Charlotte’s leg beneath the leggings she wore, and Vladimir found himself loathe to pull away. It would be quite easy, he knew, to become addicted to touching Charlotte - but doing it while she slept was nothing short of reprehensible.

With no small amount of effort, he withdrew his hand, swallowing thickly.

In that moment, it was clear to him: Shiro or not, this trip was going to be a special brand of torture.

 

Thankfully, Charlotte slept all the way to the airport. She even slept through his lifting her from the car once more to carry her through the airport - to a bevy of strange looks, but, mercifully, no reporters - and to the waiting jet. She only began to stir once the engines started to hum and they were halfway on their way to takeoff.

Vlad was sitting across from her, trying not to be aware of her with every spare cell in his body that wasn’t needed for brain power as he stolidly read the same line in his paper over and over again.

But the moment she shifted with a drowsy sound and her eyes began to open, he knew it. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her sit up slowly, staring blearily around at her surroundings. Her eyes widened as they took in the mahogany and cream interior of the private plane - from the leather sofa she was strapped into to the four or five more seats and the bar, along with the long hallway that led off towards a small bedroom in the rear and an even smaller washroom. He estimated that it took her about fifteen seconds to process that they were on a plane, and then another fifteen for her to realize what that must mean.

Her expression became briefly panicked as she searched for him, only to find him seated across from her. Then, her eyes narrowed. She worked her way out from under the blanket - her blanket- glaring pointedly until it was obvious that she wanted a reaction from him. Vlad gave it - as carefully as he could, lowering his paper to give her a mild once over. “Good morning.”

Charlotte looked as if she were trying to reign in her temper and Vlad was caught between how lovely she looked with her cheeks flushed in irritation and how much he’d liked to avoid an upset just now. “Did you take me from my house?”

“You were exhausted,” he returned neutrally, her irate tone rolling off him like water. “Lila told me you haven’t slept in days. I wanted to make sure you were thoroughly rested before we started the new project.”

“What about my stuff?” She countered almost immediately. “My blueprints. My pencils, my supplies, my clothes-”

“Your roommate was helpful enough to point them out to me.” He cut her off smoothly. “Everything’s been packed. I even made sure to grab the drawing you fell asleep on. It’s in my case, just there.” He indicated with a nod of his head at the leather briefcase leaning against the sofa she sat on.

He watched with no small amount of satisfaction as the anger drained from her face almost instantly to be replaced with slight embarrassment. “Oh.” He seemed to have taken the wind completely from her sails and watched as she suddenly turned her gaze from him, looking everywhere but in his direction sleepily as she tried to regain her steam. “This thing is huge.” She muttered under her breath, sweeping a few messy strands of red hair from her brow as the plane began to taxi towards the runway.

“We could have flown commercial, but this was a bit short notice,” he provided, folding his paper as he gave up on his charade and looked her directly in the eye with a teasing smirk. “So enjoy the luxury while it lasts.”

Charlotte merely rolled her eyes. “I’m going back to sleep. Wake me when we get there.” He almost asked her not to - but that, he knew, would be selfish. It wouldn’t be right to keep her awake just because he was anxious about his hands wandering while she was asleep.

Vladimir told himself that, as soon as they were airborne, he’d take her to the bedroom and that would be that. He wouldn’t even have to look at her for the rest of the flight, and he could finally relax.

He seemed to be lying to himself more and more lately - and he had to wonder: Was it Charlotte Gardner who brought out this new trait in him, or had it been there all along, and was just choosing now to rear its ugly head? He watched her settle on the sofa, wrapped in her blanket, and Vladimir wondered if he had ever been so jealous of an inanimate object in his entire life.