Russian Billionaire's Virgin Assistant

Becca was such an instigator. She surely recognized Maxim thanks to my not-so-light obsession with him.

“They’re not my dates — they’re my guests,” I said quickly. “Sorry, I’m so rude. Didn’t even introduce you. Becca, this is Mr. Maxim Volkov, from my internship, and his brother, Alexei. Max and Lex, my roommate, Becca Aronson.”

Becca raised her auburn eyebrows at me in mock surprise. “It is so nice of both of you to come to the concert. You really shouldn’t have — these flowers are too much. And Max—”

How was it so easy for her to call him Max? I almost choked on it every time.

“I don’t know how to tell you how much we appreciate the condo,” Becca gushed. “I’m sure Ruth has already thanked you, but I just can’t get over how generous your gesture was. You know, living there actually makes me believe that I’ve made it. That I’m somebody. Our conductor told us that it’s just as important to practice our scales and our parts as it is to visualize ourselves as successful. It’s really not hard anymore when we’re living where we’re living, so thank you.”

I realized with a furnace blast of shame that I hadn’t even so much as thanked Maxim for the condo. I’d tried to refuse it — multiple times — and grudgingly accepted it when he insisted, but I’d never actually expressed any gratitude.

“I’m happy you like it,” Maxim said.

Alexei stepped closer to Becca, his Volkov blue eyes shining. “And I’m happy I got to see you play. I haven’t been so moved by a performance since I saw the Berlin Philharmonic do—”

“Wait a minute,” Becca interrupted breathlessly. “You’ve seen the Berlin Philharmonic in person? I’ve only heard and seen recordings. Tell me everything.”

“What’s bothering you?” Maxim asked me darkly, gripping my elbow a little too hard.

“I’m fine.”

“Jealous about the flowers?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I didn’t forget you, zolotse,” Maxim murmured as Alexei and Becca talked animatedly. He had a single red rose, held back from the bouquets, and he dusted it down my overexposed back, neck to hip, before letting me hold it. I inhaled its sweet fragrance on reflex, feeling the velvet petal against my lips.

“You know, you never told me what zlotse meant,” I said softly, now that Becca and Alexei were distracted with each other.

Maxim hesitated in the same way he had in the back of his car. “My gold.”

“What?”

“Zolotse means ‘my gold,’” he said, looking away from me briefly. Like he was embarrassed that he’d been caught.

“Gold, like—”

“You all should come to Spin,” Becca said, interrupting the charged moment Maxim and I had shared. “A few of us members of the orchestra agreed to meet up there after the performance.”

“I don’t know, Becca,” I said immediately. “Spin is kind of …”

“Exclusive?” Alexei asked, perking up. “Hard to get into?”

I tried to come up with the gentlest and most diplomatic explanation possible, but Becca cut me off with a loud guffaw.

“Dirty,” she corrected. “A real dive bar.”

“You might not like it,” I added, appealing to Maxim for help. The idea of having the man who nearly drowned me in luxury that I could barely comprehend, let alone keep up with, visiting the bar where I went to eat discount wings and swill what surely had to be watered down beer, was something out of a humiliating nightmare.

Maxim cut a glance at me, and I supposed I had some kind of calling to try and protect him and his brother against the baser comforts of the world.

“You know why I have always liked traveling, brother?” Alexei asked, gripping Maxim’s shoulder. “The opp

ortunity, if you stumble upon it, to study the path less taken.”

“No, no, don’t get us wrong,” I said quickly. “Just trying to warn you about what you’re about to get into.”

“Well, that settles it,” Maxim intoned. “We’re going. You’ve already decided for us.”