“Wow,” she said to Emilio as she jogged to take in the view on the other side of the large living room. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hotel room this nice in my whole life.”
“You say that and you have not even seen the bedroom yet,” a male voice said behind her.
She gasped and skidded to a stop before turning around to find Emilio had disappeared. And a very smug Alexei Rustanov had taken his place.
His eyes scanned over her. “You are already in violation of our agreement,” he said, frowning. “You are still clothed and I do not see a bow in your hair.”
Chapter Nine
ALEXEI still didn’t quite know what he was doing on South Padre Island. When he had invited Eva to his offices in New York, it had been with the full intention of telling her to her face that he would be moving the Drummond headquarters to Dallas. Revenge being a dish best served cold and all that. In his original plan, this meeting would have finally rid him of his obsession with her, and it would serve as a final testament to the fact that he had turned out better than she could have ever expected back when she dumped him with a note attached to his refrigerator door.
But then she had shown up in that sexy black dress. She obviously believed she still had some kind of sexual power over him and could talk him out of moving the Drummond Oil headquarters just by wielding it. And from the moment he saw her standing in the outer office, laughing with Emilio, he had hated her for this belief—mostly because it was absolutely true.
Despite his original plan and his desire to be rid of her once and for all, he’d found himself inviting her back into his bed. Maybe it was because he had been so obsessed with his plan for revenge that he hadn’t slept with Caroline, or anyone else for that matter, in six months. Or maybe it was because the entire time she’d been in his office, he’d had to fight the urge to spring across his desk and take her, not caring who saw. Or maybe it was simply because she had turned those mocking brown eyes on him and asked him what he wanted.
For whatever reason, he’d made this deal with her, despite the fact that it wasn’t good for business and it definitely didn’t bode well for his mental well-being, which had steadily eroded in the six months since he first saw Eva again at Nathan Sinclair’s wedding. Because of the deal he’d made with her, he’d also have to keep the Drummond Oil headquarters opened. Which meant he had just spent millions of dollars for the privilege of paying her father’s salary until he was able to sell the company off to the highest bidder.
He’d had to rearrange his entire calendar in order to get these two weeks off, not to mention clearing out the penthouse suite in the middle of the summer season. As he had flown to South Padre Island, he had cursed himself, asking himself what the hell he thought he was doing. He’d asked himself the same question again after he sent Emilio to Drummond to pick Eva up, and then several more times during the three hours he waited for her to arrive.
His only consolation had been the thought of what he would do to her as soon as she walked through the door. He’d rip her out of whatever sexy outfit she had chosen for the trip and then take her just as he’d described back in his office, so she’d know who had bought her and who was now fully in charge of her body. He’d developed a raging hard-on just thinking about fucking Eva again, of having power over her this time, of making her bend to his will.
When he heard her come in, he made his way out to the penthouse’s main room and silently dismissed Emilio while Eva’s back was turned. But then he’d been thrown off his game yet again by the look of pleasant surprise on her lovely face as she cooed over the luxurious trappings of the penthouse, the sort of which he’d long ago started taking for granted.
He was also taken aback by what she was wearing. She had chosen to make the trip in flip-flops, a bright, blue denim skirt, and a Kelly green UT Dallas T-shirt. That outfit, paired with the happy smile on her face and her hair, which she’d pulled into a large lopsided puff at the back of her head, made her look almost exactly like she had back at UTD. Exactly like the girl he’d fallen in love with.
With the same boundless energy he remembered, she jogged from one side of the room, then started toward the other, saying, “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hotel room this nice in my whole life.”
A surge of personal satisfaction swept through him, that something he owned could make her respond like this. “You say that, and you have not even seen the bedroom yet,” he joked from his position behind her, forgetting for a moment this woman was his enemy and he had brought her here fully intent on revenge.
But he remembered soon enough when she skidded to a stop and turned around to face him. The youthful light disappeared from her eyes and the smile died on her lips, as if his presence alone erased all the joy from the situation.
His own moment of good humor evaporated as well, and he once again cursed himself, this time for giving a damn what she thought in the first place. Falling back on his business instincts, he said the thing he knew would show her she held no sway over him and that he was in the power position in their little arrangement.
“You are already in violation of our agreement,” he said, his voice as cold and monotone as he could make it. “You are still clothed and I do not see a bow in your hair.”
Her gaze spiked with fury and he stepped forward more than ready to go to battle with her over this, but then she surprised him by saying, “As you wish.” She curtsied and batted her eyes prettily before asking without a trace of her Texas accent. “Where do you want me, sir?”
Before he could answer, she put a hand to her cheek and said, “Oh, my bad, you already said you wanted me spread out for you on the bed.”
She hurried past him and he found himself in the strange position of silently following behind her as she looked behind each of the doors, all the while prattling on in that simpering, sweet, accentless facsimile of her own voice. “Oh, no, that’s not a bedroom, that’s a conference room—nice touch. And that’s not the bedroom either. That’s a bathroom. I like the marble flooring. You’ve done so, so well for yourself, Mr. Rustanov. You’re so much better than me in every way.”
Finally she came to a door that led to the penthouse’s master bedroom. She smiled with false brightness and looked back at him. “Oh, here’s the bed. Wow, I think this room has more square footage than my entire two-bedroom apartment back in Dallas. It’s very reflective of your immense power and the oodles and oodles of cold, hard cash you now have. This country girl is just about bowled over.”