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.