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It's a necessary precaution, I tell myself. Nothing more.
But as I set up the computer on the antique desk I've had moved into Sydney's room, I can't shake the feeling that I'm trying to convince myself of something. That there's more to this situation—to my interest in Sydney—than mere practicality. More to it than just protecting the family, protecting my brother, from harm.
I'm still mulling over these unsettling thoughts when a soft knock sounds at the study door. "Come in," I call out, straightening to my full height.
Sydney enters, looking like she stepped out of the pages of a high-fashion magazine in one of the dresses I selected for her. The emerald green silk clings to her curves in a way that makes my mouth go dry. Her fiery hair cascades over one shoulder in loose waves, and I'm struck by the urge to bury my hands in those silken tresses.
"Good morning, Mr. Petrov," she says, her voice soft but steady. "I hope I'm not interrupting?"
"Avros," I correct her automatically. "And no, you're not interrupting. I was just about to send for you."
Sydney nods, taking a hesitant step into the room. Her eyes dart around, taking in every detail with obvious curiosity. When her gaze lands on the laptop, her brow furrows slightly.
"Is that...?" she trails off, uncertainty coloring her tone.
"Your new work computer," I confirm, gesturing for her to come closer. "Come, I'll show you how to use it."
As Sydney approaches, I'm acutely aware of her presence. The subtle floral scent of her perfume teases my senses, making it difficult to focus on the task at hand. I find myself standing closer than strictly necessary as I walk her through the computer's features, my chest nearly brushing her back.
"This all seems very... advanced," Sydney comments, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. "I'm not sure I'm qualified?—"
"Nonsense," I interrupt, placing a hand on her shoulder. She tenses slightly at the contact, but doesn't pull away. "You're more than capable,krasotka. I wouldn't have chosen you otherwise."
Sydney turns her head, meeting my gaze. This close, I can see the flecks of gold in her green eyes, the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. My thumb traces small circles on her shoulder of its own accord, the heat of her skin addictive.
"Why did you choose me?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “You could’ve just bought me off with money, instead of hiring me to be your assistant. There must be dozens of more qualified candidates."
"I told you," I murmur, leaning in closer. "I like your spirit. Your intelligence. Your... adaptability. I want to keep you close to me, and this is the best way to do that.”
Sydney's breath hitches, her lips parting slightly. For a moment, I'm tempted to close the distance between us, to claim that pretty mouth with my own. To hell with resisting when I crave her so deeply.
But then reality reasserts itself. I step back, dropping my hand from her shoulder. "Now," I say, my voice rough with suppressed lust, "let's begin your training."
The next few hours pass in a blur of explanations and demonstrations. Sydney proves to be a quick study, absorbing information at an impressive rate. I find myself impressed by her sharp mind, the insightful questions she asks.
"So, this encrypted messaging system," Sydney says, her brow furrowed in concentration, "it's for communicating with your associates?"
I nod, leaning over her shoulder to point at the screen. "Exactly. Every message is coded and self-destructs after reading. It's essential for sensitive information."
She turns her head slightly, those green eyes meeting mine. "What kind of sensitive information?"
I can't help but smirk. "The kind you don't need to worry about,krasotka. At least not yet."
As we work, I can't help but notice the little things about her. The way she bites her lower lip when concentrating on a particularly complex task. The delicate curve of her neck as she bends over the keyboard, a stray curl falling forward to brushher collarbone. The flash of leg revealed by the slit in her dress when she crosses and uncrosses her legs, a tantalizing glimpse of smooth skin that makes my mouth go dry.
"What about this folder?" Sydney asks, gesturing to an icon on the desktop. "It's locked."
I place my hand over hers on the mouse, guiding it away. "That's not for you. Some secrets are best left undiscovered."
She shivers at my touch, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "I understand," she whispers, but I can see the curiosity burning in her eyes.
It's maddening, this constant awareness of her. I've never been so distracted by a woman before. Never felt this overwhelming urge to possess, to claim. Every accidental brush of her arm against mine, every soft intake of breath, it all sets my nerves on fire.
"Avros?" Sydney's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Did you hear me?"
I blink, realizing I've been staring. "My apologies. What were you saying?"
She gives me a quizzical look. "I was asking about the schedule for tomorrow. There's a meeting marked 'M. situation'. What does that mean?"
