Page 2 of Savage Little Lies

When it stops and begins ringing again, Dmitri finally lifts his eyes to mine.

My heart jolts to a stop at the look on his face, like it’s my fault the call is going unanswered.

When he continues to study me through narrowed eyes, I can’t tell if he’s intrigued or annoyed with me.

A long, tense moment later, he straightens up and adjusts the sleeve of his black suit jacket that’s as dark as his short, perfectly combed hair. He’s tall enough and broad enough to block most of the sunlight streaming in through the window behind him.

“You’re competing with a dozen other qualified candidates,” Dmitri tells me as he flips his still vibrating phone over. “Why should I hire you?”

“You won’t find anyone who will do this job better than me.”

His eyebrow arches. “You’re very arrogant,” he remarks. “However, I also know that you have an MBA from Boston and are overqualified to be my personal assistant,” he adds, taking the sting out of his insult. “You could work anywhere, so why apply here?”

“I’m new in town. I’ve been in Vegas for a few months but haven’t found any work,” I answer smoothly. “And while I have office experience, it was only an un-paid internship while I was in graduate school.”

“Tell me, what exactly do you know about me?”

This question is definitely a trap.

“I know you’re the CEO of Ivanov Holdings,” I say. “Your company has various interests in real estate, hospitality, import-export. You relocated from New York to expand into the Southwest.”

All true. All public. All safe.

“And personally?”

I keep my expression neutral. “That you value discretion.”

“Discretion,” he repeats. “That’s an interesting word to choose.”

I say nothing.

Dmitri slowly walks around his desk toward me. My eyes trail his every move. He has a commanding presence that can fill an entire room, impossible to ignore.

I turn to face him, watching as his eyes sweep up my figure. They linger for longer than is appropriate at the top of my open blouse, peeking out from under my suit jacket.

He continues to gaze at my body intently, like he’s imagining what I look like without any clothes on and doesn’t care if I know it.

Of course, he’s a pervert on top of everything else. Maybe I should’ve worn a revealing dress instead of business attire to ensure he hires me.

I keep my gaze on his, refusing to blink, to give him a reaction. You can’t look away from men like this. They smell fear.

My father’s voice hums in the back of my head.

Don’t look small. Don’t look scared. And for the love of God, don’t look guilty, yeah?

As I hold strong, it’s impossible not to notice how blue Dmitri’s eyes are. They aren’t icy or pale, but a deep blue like being in the depths of the ocean. I’m certain someone could very well drown in them.

Dmitri continues to stare down at me, as if waiting for me to speak first or flinch. He finally breaks the silence when I don’t do either of those things.

“I handle a large workload running multiple businesses, so I need someone clever, as well as meticulous. You’ll be expected to keep up with my schedule, be available when I need you, and complete all your tasks on time. Your job is to make my life easier. Four assistants in four weeks failed to accomplish that simple requirement.”

Four. Wow. That statistic alone is warning enough.

“I’m certain that I can make your life much easier, Mr. Ivanov,” I assure him, lying through my teeth.

If he hires me, I’m going to make his life absolute hell before he realizes that I’m the one behind it.

As if hearing my thoughts, he takes a step, eliminating the distance between us, not touching me but close enough that I can smell the mint of his toothpaste on his breath. He lords his height over me like a threat before he lowers his voice and says, “I know why you’re really here, Miss Reynolds.”