Russian Billionaire's Virgin Assistant

His answer was even slower. “Do you want us to be?”

“You don’t get to do that — answer a question with a question. I asked first.”

“Are you having fun with this?”

I rolled my eyes. “Another question? Really?”

“Because I am.” He traced his finger around my hairline, down my cheek, along my jaw. It made me shiver. “I like giving you things. I even like when you complain about them, that I’m doing too much. And I like this.” He rubbed my breast through my dress. “And this.” I backed away before he could reach between my legs.

“I’m having fun, yes,” I said. “It’s just confusing sometimes. Because I really like you. Except for the times when I really hate you.”

“Such is love, Ruth Miracle.”

I gulped. “You love me?”

Maxim stopped abruptly. “Dinner’s going to get cold if we stand here running our mouths. The chef would never forgive me if you don’t like it. I had him come over from the estate to fix it.”

I wanted to press the discussion forward, but when I saw the spread laid out before us on the dining room table, I couldn’t. I realized that I was starving, that I hadn’t eaten for what felt like two days because my stomach was so upset. Every single dish looked good enough for a magazine spread, and Maxim and I tucked in immediately.

“Good to see you have an appetite,” he said, watching me gobble down what was on my plate so I could have more. “I noticed you haven’t been taking lunch.”

“Well, invite your gourmet chef for an exhibition day in the cafeteria and maybe I’d be more enthusiastic,” I joked. “Wait. Max. Don’t. The cafeteria food is great. Better than anything I’ve ever had.”

“Still,” he mused, rubbing his chin. “Maybe I’ll make a note for more variety.”

“It’s your cafeteria,” I said, half-sorry that I’d even said anything. “But it’s already good.”

“We could do a Thanksgiving meal there,” he said, brightening. “For everyone who isn’t defecting from the company for the week.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of people who have scheduled their vacation for that week,” I assured him. “You probably just don’t know about it. What do you even do for Christmas?”

“Travel, usually. To somewhere new. Sometimes wherever Lex is in the world. Sometimes somewhere I haven’t been, by myself.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“The world is a beautiful place,” he said, drinking some of his wine. I hadn’t touched mine — didn’t want to risk upsetting my stomach. “You’re only lonely if you want to be.”

I paused, thinking about what I wanted to say. “You know, if you wanted to have somewhere to go for Thanksgiving, I would love to have you come to my dad’s.” Maxim’s furrowed brow made me rush to explain. “I mean, Becca’s been coming for as long as we’ve known each other. And Lex would be welcome, I’m sure. The more the merrier, especially at Thanksgiving. There’s so much food.”

“You want me to share a meal with your father?”

“You’d probably have plenty to talk about,” I said, puzzled at the funny look that came over Maxim’s face. “It’s just a thought, though. You don’t have to.”

“I’ll think about it,” he promised. “Now, for dessert.” He passed behind me and I thought he was going to the kitchen, but instead he took my hand and lifted me out of the chair.

“Oh, really?” I asked, laughing before he kissed me. “I was thinking something more along the lines of chocolate mousse, or cheesecake.”

“You’re thinking correctly,” he assured me, leading me away from the table. “Follow me.”

The bedroom was sumptuous, filled with comfortable cushions, low seats, and a massive bed that dominated the space. The lights were low, and I noticed a tray of sweets and treats beside the bed.

“Let me guess,” I said. “This is where the orgies happen, right?”

Maxim actually laughed — a rich baritone refreshingly different from the huffs he usually made out of derision. “Isn’t it supposed to be where the magic happens?”

I didn’t have any time to answer as he kissed me, driving me back until I hit the edge of the bed and tumbled over. He took the opportunity to lift my dress, kissing his way up my thigh and stomach before pulling the fabric over my head completely.

“Careful,” I warned him as he tossed it away. “That’s my favorite.”