Page 26 of The Pakhan’s Hidden Heir

“Forgive me,” Ingrid murmurs, rushing in to place dessert plates on the table.

It breaks the tension and I turn to watch the smile on Raina’s face.

After such a heavy moment, she’s taken me by surprise at how lovely she recovers.

So beautiful.

“She’s wonderful,” Raina says, still smiling as Ingrid walks out silently. “It’s like she reads my mind when I’m not even thinking I need something and poof! She’s there. You should tell her more often.” Raina eyes the strawberry pie with a pile of whipped topping on it and pushes her half-eaten meal aside.

“She knows her worth to me.” I reach for my wine to sip, still entranced with that laugh. God I’m helplessly drawn to this woman, and I know full well how dangerous it is. “I’m not in the habit of saying such things aloud.”

“No, I don’t imagine you are.” Raina tilts her head, studying me now the way I’ve been studying her all evening. Her entire posture and body language shift. “You had a wife. Ingrid mentioned it, only barely. She said you lost her?”

It’s the one topic I never want to talk about, and she has managed in under two weeks to zero in on it. “I did. It was a long time ago, and it isn’t a thing I discuss.” My hard edges are showing, but she softens them, still smiling as she continues.

“I think it’s wonderful that you found love, and I’m so sorry for your loss. It must’ve been difficult.”

“While I accept your condolences, and appreciate that you have compassion, I would rather not speak of it.” Bringing Agnya up in this space feels like a violation. Besides, she is the reason I have made it my cardinal rule that love is weakness. I almost lost everything when I lost her. I won’t do that again.

“Fair enough,” she says quietly, then I notice a flash in her eyes, something subtle but definitely playful. “Can I ask you something?”

I appreciate she’s changing the subject, so I allow her the floor, nodding as I push my own dinner plate back and finish my wine.

“You can ask me whatever you like.”

“Then I’ll ask this.” Her gaze drags over me slowly, like she’s deciding in her head what she really wants to say. “Do you interview every woman that closely, or was that just for me?”

“Only the ones I intend to keep.” I’m not sure why she’d ask that? I’m creating an heir and I asked her questions to prove her value. But the mischievous smile on her face is almost flirtatious.

“Careful, Mr. Dravenko.” She lifts her wine and watches me over the rim. “I might start to think you like me.”

The tug I feel, like someone hooks into my chest and pulls me toward her, is intense. It sends a surge of arousal to my core and I feel myself swelling. What is she doing? She’s never been so bold with me.

“Do you think I dislike you?” This banter is moving into dangerous territory for me, forcing me to assess what I actually might feel other than arousal.

I’ve been able to compartmentalize and shut that down for the most part, though it leaks in at times when I’m not vigilant.

But right now there is no restraint.

I see her lean forward and lick her lips, and I crave what she might say next.

“Oh I think you like me very much. Very very much.” Raina dips her finger into her dessert, spreading the whip cream with her finger before sucking it clean.

Watching what she’s doing, being inviting like this, has my heart racing. She’s offering herself to me in a very bold way.

She has no clue what she’s doing.

“I think if you’re not careful, you’re going to be dessert instead of this pie…” The twitch in my pants is only getting worse. I’m rock hard, ready to pounce on her.

“Why not have both,” she mewls, smearing a line of whip cream down her neck, into the deep V of her dress’s collar where it perches on top of the fleshy globe of her cleavage.

I watch her finger trace that creamy line down her skin, the white swirl disappearing into the soft valley between her breasts, and heat surges through me at the bold invitation.

She’s never pushed like this before, and the daring gleam in her eyes has me out of my chair and pulling her up from her seat.

I lift her onto the edge of the table, where I lean over her possessively, letting a low growl rumble up from my chest.

It causes a nervous titter as she smooths my tie then tugs it, pulling my lips closer to hers.