Chapter Four
“What are you doing here?”
Kazankov turned away from his staff and gave Lily Bennett his best no one here is holding a grudge smile. “Waiting.”
From the way she grimaced, he figured his smirk didn’t fool her at all.
She stalked closer, her briefcase banging against her thigh, her heels clicking against the gleaming polished marble that was a signature of the historic Tyson Hotel lobby.
It might be a new day, but her mouthwatering body was encased in another somber dark blouse and gray pencil skirt that had his fingers itching to sneak beneath.
He’d thought mourning wear was his new kink, but apparently professional business attire worked just as well.
Damn woman grew more tempting every time he saw her.
Not that it mattered.
Today was all about teaching Lily Bennett a lesson.
“Why are you waiting here?” Her fabulous mouth was pinched into a tight line.
He pointed toward the discrete, gold lobby sign. “Because it’s eleven, and this is where I was told to come for my interview with Tyson.”
Dexter Tyson was one of the more influential board member of Winslow Industries.
His rival’s gaze narrowed. “Interestingly enough, I was told to come to this exact spot for my scheduled interview at eleven.”
“Yes. I know.” Alexi might be a bastard, but he wasn’t a liar. “Tyson’s scheduler said as much when I let him know I had some sudden free time thanks to a recent glitch with one of my potential acquisitions. An odd date change…know anything about it?”
There was a stab of satisfaction as her face paled. Had she really thought he wouldn’t retaliate?
“When I explained you and I went way back,” and threatened to expose the scheduler’s little side business of stealing hotel supplies and reselling them at a tidy profit, “he agreed it would make a great surprise for us to share your meeting time.” He spread his arms wide. “Nice, huh?”
“The opposite of nice.” His adversary spoke through gritted teeth. “And if you think I’m going to just let you snap up Tyson’s support, you’re even dumber than that idiot nodding and smirking behind you.”
He cast a quick look over his shoulder. Sure enough. Eaton did look a bit like a smug idiot. Until he realized Lily Bennett was talking about him. Then his CFO’s smile disappeared fast.
Fighting a sudden impulse to grin himself, Alexi turned back around and got down to business. “He’s smarter than he looks. Me, too. If you were wise, you’d get out now.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
Unwelcome lust reared its head, raked its nails across his skin, and clawed at his chest and back. Just the way he wanted this woman touching him.
He shook his head to expel the image. “You should be.”
“Yesterday, you intruded where you didn’t belong. I returned the favor. We’re even.”
“Mishka, I don’t do even.” He stepped closer. “I don’t do ties. I don’t give out medals for participating. I’m in this to win.”
She tipped her chin, her mouth mere inches from his. “So am I—and don’t call me ‘little mouse.’”
Interesting. “You know Russian?”
“I recently started studying up. Know your enemy and all that wise advice.”
“Impressive, but too little, too late. I’ve asked to address your board this Friday and the head, Don Pierson, agreed. That’s not a good sign.” He couldn’t believe his own ears. It almost sounded as if he were trying to break it to her gently.
He’d used those same coaxing tones with another too-stubborn-for-her-own-good woman once upon a time. One who hadn’t listened to a word he said, either.
“I wouldn’t order new office furniture yet.” Lily Bennett’s hold on the handle of her briefcase had gone knuckle-white. “I was informed about your presentation, which is why I’ve asked to speak to the board as well. And it’s going to be amazing.”
“I would expect no less.”
“Really?” Cynicism dripped from every syllable.
“Really.”
“What about the whole nails and spa thing?”
“I’m a quick study. Able to admit a mistake when I make one.”
“What are you up to?” Her eyes narrowed. “Is this some sort of trick negotiating tactic?”
“I’m an asshole, yes, but I’m the brutally truthful kind. I’m willing to admit you’re turning out to be a far more impressive adversary than I initially imagined.”
“I…” She swallowed hard, that kitten tongue darting out to lick those lips, and for the first time, he saw a flash of vulnerability in her gorgeous eyes.
It made his chest go tight.
Because in that small, revealing gesture it became clear that the always cool, classy, and poised Ms. Bennett was far less confident than she appeared. Worse, it mattered to her what others thought. A very dangerous weakness to have in their line of work.
So why the hell was he thinking of ways to toughen her up rather than exploiting it?
“I appreciate you saying that.” She cleared her throat, her gaze flickering away.
Ah, shit. The urge to haul her close and murmur God knows what in her ear until that vulnerable look went away surged through his blood with painful intensity.
“This thing between us is going to be a problem.” The words came out sharper than intended.
Her spine snapped straight, that soft look disappearing fast. “There is no thing between us.”
“Well, here you are.” Without warning, the man they’d come to see emerged from a nearby heavy wood door labeled Private. As wide and large as his hometown state, the very bald, cowboy boots–wearing man was dressed in a navy suit and red tie. He bustled forward and stuck out a beefy hand. “Kazankov.”
“Tyson.”
His adversary looked awfully tiny sandwiched between them waiting for her turn to be greeted.
Time stretched.
“Good to see you as well, Ms. Bennett.” Tyson’s tone was notably cooler.
Alexi throat-punched the annoying twinge of protectiveness that surged from nowhere.
“I apologize for the scheduling mishap.” Tyson’s jowls surged downward. “Damn awkward. My scheduler doesn’t usually make such mistakes.”
“These things happen.” Laying on the graciousness, Alexi ignored the glare from his rival.
“I suggest we slice the meeting time in half,” proposed their target. “Ms. Bennett, I know you’ve little actual experience in hotel management, so I’ve arranged for a tour of our facilities while you wait. There’s a nice spa on the grounds. Might be of particular interest. Gives good massages, I hear.”
Could a guy get more patronizing? Alexi slid a sidelong glance at his rival.
“I’ll take a look.” Her face was impressively blank.
For some reason, it annoyed the hell out of him.
“Kazankov,” Tyson drew his attention, “just give me a minute to finish up a call and I’m all yours.” He started toward his office. “I don’t pretend to sanction your recent actions toward the company, but I’m willing to hear you out.”
For Alexi, keeping the smirk from his face became a full-time job.
He waited until Tyson marched away. “Spa should be nice.”
“Screw you.”
“Well, there you are.” A booming voice even louder than Tyson’s emerged from the elevator.
Did these people get off on making people jump?
He swiveled around in time to see an overly tan, blond-haired figure headed straight for Lily, his hand outstretched. Unlike Tyson, this man’s expression was the epitome of friendly. “Sorry, I wasn’t here to greet you earlier. I’m Rick Johnson, head of guest relations.” He clasped his other massive paw over hers as if afraid she’d get away.
Alexi’s struggle to keep the smirk from his face got a whole lot easier.
“Just give me a second to grab a map and folder with all the boring statistics and intel,” continued Mr. Tan and Charming. “Since it’s just you and me on the tour, we can skip the boring stuff and get right to the fun.”
“Looking forward to it.” Stepping in front of his rival, Alexi held out his hand. “I’ll be taking the tour as well.”
Rick’s orange-tinted forehead wrinkled in confusion. “But I thought…”
“You thought wrong.”
He and Morales had done their homework on not just Tyson, but his whole staff.
While the head of guest relations was, sadly, not involved in anything illegal, Rick took his job seriously enough to be attempting to plow through the entire NYC female population, guests and employees alike.
The guy was a dog. A smooth-talking, continually humping, overly tan dog.
But today he was about to be leashed.
“I’m not sure what’s going on.” His rival’s eyes flashed as she scrambled to figure out his new angle—which, frankly, he’d like to know himself.
Behind him, he could hear Eaton muttering.
“You seem to have gotten confused,” she continued. “I’m taking the tour first. You’re meeting with Tyson.”
“That isn’t going to work for me.”
Her eyes went wide before narrowing to small slits. “What in God’s green…” Slapping a tight, painful smile on her face, she seized hold of his arm. “Could I speak to you privately for a moment, Mr. Kazankov?”
“Sure thing.” His gaze locked with Rick’s. “In the meantime,” errand boy, “let your boss know I’ll reschedule our meeting at his convenience. Eaton, maybe you could help with that?”
Rick still looked confused. Eaton like he’d had a lobotomy.
Alexi turned and headed toward a semiprivate alcove near the hotel’s revolving glass doors, Lily Bennett tight on his heels.
Not ideal for a chat, but he wouldn’t know where the best places for a private moment were until after the tour—and he planned to be right there with Rick and Lily Bennett as they explored every single cozy, secluded spot.
“I have no idea what you think you’re doing,” she hissed the second she’d squeezed herself into the small space, that fake smile still slapped on her face, “but this is insane. You’re going to make Tyson so pissed he’ll refuse to vote for either of us.”
“Rick is a dirtbag.” He flicked a piece of lint from his shirt. “His specialty is widows. It’s not my business how you go about securing your support. Everybody’s got their style. I’m just trying to help you avoid making a lonely hearts mistake.”
She reared back as if he’d slapped her. “Help me?” Her voice rose once again. That fake smile nowhere to be seen. “I don’t need your help, bless your heart.” She stepped closer. “You’re not the only one who does their research. I know all about Rick and his inclinations.”
“You know?” Anger surged. “And what? You think fucking the help is going to get you in good with Tyson? Think again.”
The minute the words were out of Alexi’s mouth he knew they weren’t really for her—and that he really was an asshole.
When searching for her next fix, Anastasia had slept with whomever, wherever, whenever.
But Lily Bennett wasn’t Anastasia.
This wasn’t ten years ago.
And he really should be way over that shit by now.
He opened his mouth to apologize—when she surprised him.
“Listen up, Mr. Arrogant Neanderthal Ass.” She stepped close, her minty breath whispering across his neck, a wild look in her eyes. “I don’t need any extra advantage to beat you, and I am getting damn sick of hearing you suggest I have any interest in exchanging sex for favors.” Her cheeks were flushed, her full red lips inches from his own, her drawl stronger than he’d ever heard. “When I have sex, it’s for the pure, raw pleasure of it. It’s not for business. It’s for the moans. And the gasps. And the hot, sweaty, raunchy thrill of archin’ my back while some guy plays with my tits and I scream and writhe as he drives inside me deep and hard.”
All sound receded. All blood, too.
Holy shit. Man down…man down—and dick up.
Up and hard and straining at that seam of his pants to get to her.
He was pretty sure his world had just shifted on its axis.
“Good to know what you like.” He barely got the words out, his voice rougher than he’d ever heard, raw, red-hot lust a chokehold around his throat.
By the triumphant look on her face, he could tell she was pleased with his reaction. Probably thought she’d shocked him. Probably thought she’d won this round. That the battlefield was hers to claim.
But he’d always liked this particular game.
He leaned in, his gaze locked on that incredible mouth. “But tell me, Lily, when he’s deep inside does he rock nice and slow?” Her eyes widened as he brought his mouth to her ear, letting his breath rasp against the delicate shell. “Does he take his time? Does he wait until you’re breathless and begging, your legs spread wide, your clit throbbing for his touch?”
A fine shudder wracked her body and he knew he had her.
Trouble was, he was caught as well.
He shifted closer. “When you swear you can’t take it anymore, that you need it hard and fast, does he flip you over? Does he take you from behind, his fingers working that tight bundle of nerves over and over as he thrusts deep and you scream and shudder and beg? Because that’s what I like. Because that’s what I’ll do when it’s you and me.”
“It…” She swallowed hard and then glared up at him. “It won’t ever be you and me.”
“I used to think that, too.”
Their gazes fused.
But it wasn’t anger in her heavy-lidded stare. It was dark, unwelcome need. It was the promise of a battleground scorched with back-clawing, raw, on-all-fours sex and a fight for dominance that could end with only one victor.
The ruthless bastard in him threw back his head and roared.
He was all in. “Lily—”
Out of nowhere, a flash exploded.