Page 166 of Sexting His Assistant

I didn’t ask Pavel to come, but I don’t comment on it immediately. He stands slightly behind the other two, neat as always, dark suit, quiet eyes, phone in hand.

“Car is ready,” Sergei says.

“Route?”

“Primary and two alternates. Traffic is slow near the river, but manageable.”

The elevator dings. The doors open.

Empty.

Nina is not inside.

I check my watch, then hate myself for checking it.

Sergei notices and wisely turns his head.

The next elevator descends from the upper office floors.

The doors open. Nina steps out.

For a moment, no one speaks.

She went with black instead of the green she showed me. Christ, it doesn’t make it any better though.

The dress is simple at first glance, which is exactly why it works. The neckline is simple, the fabric fits her body without looking like it is trying too hard, and the slit at one side shows enough of her leg to make my jaw tighten before I can stop it. Her hair is pulled back loosely, a few strands framing her face, and she wears small earrings that catch the light when she moves.

She looks elegant.

I almost wish I had ignored every security concern and come alone.

Then I remember the garage, and the thought dies.

Nina’s eyes find mine immediately, then flick to Dima, Sergei, Pavel, and back again. Her shoulders draw in just a little, not enough for anyone else to read, but I see it.

She’s shy.

That undoes something in me.

She can argue with me in a hallway, lie to her brother with a scarf around her neck, sit on a shelf in an office closet and still tell me I’m a workplace hazard, but now, stepping into the elevator lobby in a dress I bought and did not choose, she looks suddenly unsure.

I walk toward her before I think better of it.

“Is it okay?” she asks, voice low.

“Yes,” I say.

She looks annoyed. “That’s it?”

“You look beautiful.”

Her mouth parts slightly, and then she looks away as if the compliment is too direct.

I hold out my hand.

She glances at the men behind me.

I don’t lower it.