Russian Billionaire's Virgin Assistant

She shot me a look of pure outrage. “Of course not. But she was nervous about it, and I was nervous for her.”

It was nearly impossible to pay attention to the rest of the performance with the way Ruth was cuddled into me, or with the knowledge that I was still as h

ard as ever. I was about to lose everything, ready to say to hell with it and have her — public place or not. I wanted to fuck her against the velvet seats of this box, chapping her ass against the material, losing her screams into the performing orchestra.

But there was no chance for it — probably for the best. The lights came up as the final chord sounded among all those instruments, and we all rose to our feet, applauding like nothing had happened. Ruth glanced at me and winced before taking out a pair of tissues from her small clutch. We both had red lipstick smeared across our faces.

“This isn’t over,” I promised her, wiping at my mouth. “The next time we’re alone together, you’re mine.”

I laughed as she excused herself from the box to go to the restroom to repair the damage — all but running from me. It only made me want her more.

“You have it bad, Max,” my brother remarked over the applause as he ducked into our box, and I had no choice but to agree with him.

Ten

Ruth

It was something of a relief to have an excuse to dash out of the box I had shared with Maxim.

In fact, I ran faster than I should have to lose Max, who had boldly taken possession of my body from the very first movement of the performance. I had never experienced anything like that before — losing myself in someone. He had complete control over my body. If I was being honest, I had never managed to make myself feel that good. It was a no-brainer that no man had been able to either.

Was it horrible that the fact we were in public made it even hotter? The only thing that mortified me was how afraid I was that Alexei had noticed something.

I wasn’t running away. I just wanted some space to restore my dignity — and of course to cheer on Becca. Almost as soon as I left the bathroom, my roommate emerged from the tunnel leading backstage, jogging toward me.

“You were amazing,” I gushed, throwing my arms around Becca’s neck and squeezing her tightly. “What was all that worrying for?”

“I thought I could’ve done better,” Becca confessed. “I was just so nervous.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, not convinced at all. She had been phenomenal during her solo. I couldn’t attest for the rest of the performance. Maxim had kept me awfully occupied. “And what did the conductor say?”

Becca looked cowed. “He said I did all right.”

“Just all right?”

She laughed, hiding her face. “Okay, he said I did very well.”

“Then take the compliment,” I said, shaking her a little. She was always so self-assured until it came to her performances.

“Thanks, Ruth,” she said, elated, her face on fire. “I’m so glad you could come.”

“Listen, I have to tell you something.”

I was cut off by Becca gasping and laughing delightedly, looking behind me.

“Rebecca.” We both turned to find that Maxim and Alexei had returned, each bearing enormous bouquets of bright flowers. Those blossoms outshone any of the gifts anyone else in the lobby was receiving. The Volkovs must have sent their driver out to get them. They were truly beautiful.

Maxim took the initiative, handing Becca an armful of stems wrapped in brown paper, yellows and purples and blues spilling from the opening. “Truly, a pleasure to see your performance.” He kissed her solemnly on each cheek — and what was that? Was that jealousy that squeezed my throat? Were my hackles raised because of a quick, cursory brush of Maxim’s lips on Becca’s face? That was ridiculous — especially, as my fluttering insides reminded me, he had told me I belonged to him during the performance.

Was this some kind of game he was playing?

“An artist,” Alexei was saying, kissing Becca on her cheeks in multiple sets, over and over again, as he laid his bouquet full of white, orange, and red sprays over his brother’s arrangement. “A rising star. Pozdravlyayu, beautiful.”

Becca laughed delightedly, soaking in the attention. “These are beautiful flowers, thank you so much. I’m sorry — ‘pozdra’ … I’m not sure what that means.”

“Congratulations,” Alexei said smoothly. “In Russian.”

Becca grinned at me. “Ruth, I didn’t know that you were bringing two dates for the performance. How do you say it? Pozdravlyayu!”