Russian Billionaire's Virgin Assistant

A tiny sound brought me back to the present. Ruth. She had cleared her throat, reminding me that I still had my arms around her. This close, I could see the color of her eyes. I’d thought they’d looked dark when I’d first seen her from the stage, but now I realized that they were shot through with honey — just a little darker than the color of her curls. They were just as beautiful as she was, I realized, surprising myself with the thought.

I raised an eyebrow at her before slowly releasing my grip.

“Are you finished flailing around?” I asked, just to see her blush again. “Are you ready to get to work?”

“Born ready,” she said gamely, squaring her delicate shoulders. “What do you need me to do?”

“Follow me.”

I led her through the cavernous auditorium, and back down the bustling hallways of my company. The building had been designed to impress as well as to function as the hub of my operations. I had satellite locations around the world, but there was no other place for my headquarters but Silicon Valley. And even if I was all about substance, I wasn’t above style. The facility looked damn good; all sleek, modern lines and expanses of glass.

Its intended effect wasn’t lost on Ruth. She clacked right alongside me in her heels, soaking everything in with her full lips parted minutely. I wasn’t immune to the way her breasts bounced beneath her blouse at our brisk pace toward the bank of elevators. She darted a glance over at me and caught me staring at her.

“I’m sure you’ve already had the tour?” I asked, simply to have a reason to look at her openly.

“Several times,” she said with a breathless laugh. “The first time was a field trip when this place first opened its doors. It kind of had a lasting impression on me, you might say.”

I frowned. “You were here, what, then — eight years ago?”

“Yep. Eighth grade. Fell in love.” That delicious blush again, distracting me from the fact that I was nearly a decade older than her. “With it. The building, I mean. And the company, of course. The mission. My dad’s in telecommunications, too, so I guess you can say I was raised for it.”

We reached the elevator and I stabbed the button to go up. “Your father’s in telecommunications how?” I asked, even if I already knew the answer. It was the confirmation I needed, if only to ensure I didn’t put the wrong man’s daughter through the wringer.

“Software development,” she said, just like I knew she would. “But he’s retired, now. He tried to start his own company way back when, but it didn’t work out.” Goddamn right it didn’t work out. “He’s done mostly consulting work ever since. Maybe you’ve heard of him? Gerald Miracle.”

The elevator doors rolled open and the people who had been coming down to the lobby level skittered out of our way, even though I was in a much better mood than before. “Don’t know him,” I said flatly, punching the button for the executive offices and feeling like I’d won a prize.

We were the only two on our way up, and I took full advantage of having my target in my sights — and away from prying eyes. I leaned close enough for her to hold her breath, for those molten eyes to go wide. Close enough to detect her perfume: citrus sweetened with floral notes. Honeysuckle, perhaps?

“So how are you finding your first day here, Ruth Miracle?” I asked, my voice low, and hoarser than I would’ve liked. The things I could do to her in the short minutes it would take to reach the top of the building. I could have her begging for it before she could even understand what it was she wanted. It would be such a little thing to part her legs with my knee, press upward, steal her breath right from between her lips.

“Things have been … interesting,” she said a little faintly, studying my mouth as if she could read my mind. “Unexpected. I’m grateful, above all, that I even have this opportunity. Especially to be your intern. It’s just …”

“What?”

“Why me?” She lifted her eyes to meet mine. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, least of all when her tongue darted out to wet her lips in what had to be a show of nerves. I could think of a whole list of things I wanted that tongue to do for me.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” I told her, entranced by each micro movement she made in spite of her best efforts to stand her ground. The way her nostrils flared as she breathed faster, or how her long eyelashes brushed her heated cheeks. How she trembled slightly, even as she clutched her notebook to her chest. “I don’t regularly take interns under my wing. Too busy.”

“Again, I’m grateful.” Those golden eyes challenged me. “I’m just curious about what my role will be. What expectations you have of my time here.”

She would be downright shocked if she knew what I had in mind for her.

The door opened and I stepped away from her smoothly. “To have an open mind. To listen and learn. To excel at everything I ask of you.”

She trotted after me as I strode toward my office. “That’s pretty broad, Mr. — um, Max. I was thinking specific, actionable, measurable goals.”

I was on edge today. I felt coiled, barely contained, and I was sure it radiated off of me from the way people avoided me in the halls on the way to the auditorium.

Of course, I wasn’t here to be friendly. This was my company. I’d built it with my own two hands. My sweat and blood. I’d wrenched it into existence in Russia when I was barely into my twenties and exported it across the world. Fought against everything and everyone who had tried to hold me back.

“What the fuck is this?” I demand

ed as I pushed open my office door, scowling at the figure sitting at my desk. I’d been looking forward to even more alone time with Ruth, laying the foundation for my plans for her. I did have some very specific goals for her internship. Instead, my brother Alexei had his feet up on my desk.

“Is that any way to greet your own brother?” Alexei asked in Russian, his eyes shining with mischief.

I switched languages effortlessly. I was proud of my roots, and I hadn’t lost any of my native tongue after moving to the States. “This is not a good time, brother.”