Page 201 of Sexting His Assistant

I shake my head. “No.”

His jaw tightens at once. “Nina.”

I say, “You said you would take me home, not escort me to my bed like a suspicious father.”

Luka says, “That’s a terrible comparison.”

I say, “Then stop behaving in ways that invite it.”

He looks up at my building, then back at me. “At least let Sergei check the hallway.”

I say, “No.”

He doesn’t answer immediately.

I know what he wants to say. He wants to remind me about Roman, the gala, Misha, everything sitting under the surface of the night. I can almost see the words arranging themselves behind his eyes.

But he stops himself. “Text me when you’re inside.”

I blink. “That’s it?”

Luka says, “Yes.”

I narrow my eyes. “Are you ill?”

Luka says, “I’m respecting your boundary.”

I say, “You sound pained.”

Luka says, “I am.”

The laugh escapes before I can stop it.

His mouth softens when he hears it, and that little change hits me harder than it should. He looks less like the man who owns rooms and more like the man who danced with me beside an empty fountain because he did not get the chance to do it properly at the gala.

I gather my purse and open the car door before I lose my nerve.

Luka gets out at the same time, because of course he does, but he stays by the driver’s side and does not come around to help me. I can tell it costs him.

I step onto the pavement and smooth my dress down.

The night air feels colder now.

I look across the roof of the car at him. “Goodnight, Luka.”

Luka says, “Goodnight, Nina.”

For a second, neither of us moves from where we are.

Then I lift my hand and wave at him.

It feels stupidly normal.

A woman waving goodnight after a date.

Luka stands beside his car, watching me with his hands at his sides and his tuxedo jacket open now. The streetlight catches the silver at his temples. He looks tired, watchful, and entirely too beautiful for my peace of mind.

I turn away before I do something idiotic like walk back to him.