Cake

  “I think that’s a few miles down the road at this point. Hell, he hasn’t even kissed me yet. I can’t go getting jealous or worried or even have an opinion about it at this point. I know who he is.”

  Zoe simply looked at her. “Who do you think you’re telling this to? A magazine editor or something? That’s right out of the enlightened modern woman handbook and while I totally agree that’s a very good way to view it, you have many, many tingles and feelings for him already.”

  Wren couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. “Thank god for you, asshole.” She patted Zoe’s arm. “Regardless of whatever feels I may be having for him, or not—this is his thing. Look at him, he’s like, I don’t know, if you looked up bad boy in leather your dad would totally hate you dating but is really forbidden and does fabulous things with his tongue in the dictionary, his picture would be above it. It’s part of his allure. But it’s also…it’s only the exterior. He’s more. So I do hope at some point to breach that and give him a raised eyebrow when women shove their lady lumps at him. But that’s not now and I am not so stupid and lovestruck that I can’t understand that very essential thing.”

  Zoe sniffed and nodded. “Good. That shit would drive me nuts. I’d be knocking people out left and right.”

  “He’s the one who’d need it. If he was, you know, in a relationship with me. Which he is…in my head. So, there’s that.”

  He turned as if he’d heard them, his gaze snagging on hers. He pushed himself upright and with a distracted exit, headed her way. Zoe shoved her forward a little and scampered off.

  “You’re still here. Good. I’m done. Come.” He held a hand out and she took it. “Keep me company. We’ll walk over together. Let’s get your jacket first.”

  Kelsey hurried over with it and with one for him.

  “Thank you. Wren and I are heading to Fixe now.”

  Kelsey nodded at him. “Zoe and I will be over shortly. I just have one last thing to finish.” She kissed Wren’s cheek and moved away to where the gallery owner and Gregori’s agent stood.

  Wren found herself nearly saying she’d catch up with him and go over with her cousin and roommate. And then she shoved aside all that stupid conditioning and remembered she liked Gregori and having him alone was actually, you know, what she wanted.

  “You’re okay to leave now? There are still people here.”

  He helped her into her blazer and she pulled her hair free and ended up in a bit of a tangle with him.

  He grinned and her body lit up like a pinball machine.

  “I did my act for them.” He shrugged. “They all saw Gregori Ivanov and now I need a drink and some actual food.” He mentioned it as if he was a ticketed event. And she supposed in a way he was.

  “All right. I think I can handle that.”

  “Ask her about her exciting news,” Kelsey called out as they left.

  He took the outside, all gentlemanly and stuff. He bumped her to get her attention. “Good news?”

  “I told her to keep quiet about it until tomorrow. I’ll tell you when I next drop packages off for you. Tonight is your night.”

  He frowned. “You should tell me, of course. Good news should be shared. It’ll still be my night, so to speak. I promise. Consider it a present to me.”

  They crossed at the light and moved down the block. The mist raised in shiny beads on his jacket. The night was cold, but crisp and clean and she was utterly happy right in that moment.

  “If it’s a present, then I’ll truly hold off and tell you tomorrow.”

  “You would truly withhold your good news from me? You are not fair, Wren.”

  She laughed and he put an arm around her shoulder, which sent those butterflies in her belly into surprised flight. “So tell me.”

  Well he did ask and she was truly excited to share it with him. “This afternoon—”

  “Hi, Gregori.”

  Standing at the door of Fixe was none other than Prentiss Ivanov wearing a skirt so short that if she took a deep breath the entire street would know her as well as her gynecologist.

  “What are you doing here?” His voice had gone flat, all the rich, flirty tones he’d just been using on Wren had gone.

  Wren tried to skirt past them. Go inside, anywhere away from this scene, but Gregori kept an arm around her shoulders to hold her in place.

  “I wanted to congratulate you, of course.”

  He moved past Prentiss. “Thank you.” And tried to keep walking until Prentiss placed herself in their path.

  “Can you excuse us, honey?” Prentiss fluttered her lashes at Wren.

  “No, she can’t. We’re going inside. Good night.”

  “This is what you’re digging up now? Come on, Gregori.” She turned her attention to Wren. “You know you’re temporary, right? He’ll replace you in a week or two.”

  Wren just looked her over and a twinge of pity bloomed. Just a small one and not big enough for her to resist when Gregori kept her at his side.

  “Move aside, Prentiss. We’re done. You know it. You wanted it, you got it and you were right.”

  “At least let’s have a drink to celebrate your night.”

  “I’m about to do that.” He continued on inside, pausing at the inner door to speak to the doorman. “Be sure no one gets in if they’re not on the list.”

  Wren blew out a breath but continued on with him to where a bunch of people she had seen around Gregori’s place milled around. And felt out of place and a little nervous.

  “Let’s put our coats away.” He pulled her aside and around a corner. When they were alone in a back hallway he got very close. So close she could smell his skin. “I apologize for her. Her assumption was incorrect and vulgar.”

  Wren licked her lips. “I’m sorry, too. This should be a happy night for you. I’m sorry she tries to hurt you.” She cupped his cheek, smiling and trying to pretend she just had friendly feelings for him. “You deserve more.”

  He closed his eyes, leaning into her palm. “You’ve got a good heart.”

  “I’m only after your cookies.”

  He smiled, his eyes still closed. “You, little bird, are welcome to any and all of my cookies. I’d even share my cake with you.”

  He touched his forehead to hers and shocked her into stillness when he slid his arms around her waist, his palms splayed on her back. Skin to skin. Warmth radiated out from where he held her and she arched into him.

  His eyes opened slowly, a little blurred and she lost her breath as he dipped down to take her mouth in a kiss.

  Not a sweet touch like he’d done at the gallery. He brushed his lips over hers, settling in. Tasting. She opened up on a sigh and he growled in his throat as his tongue traced the curve of her bottom lip.

  His beard scratched against her chin, sending shivers through her. He swallowed her sounds of delight and tickled her tongue with his. His grip on her tightened when she sucked his tongue, the ridge of his cock hard against her belly.

  He tasted like…well like everything she’d imagined he’d taste like. The spice of the Turkish tobacco in the French cigarettes he smoked. A little bit of vodka. Some cinnamon, probably from the gum he’d been chewing. And something else she couldn’t define but was all his anyway.

  Heat raced through her veins. She nipped his bottom lip and he groaned again. She laved the sting with her tongue and tasted the kiss, the need between them and it was her turn to groan.

  He muttered something in Russian at the sound of his name being called back in the main room.

  “Clearly I’m going to have to get a Russian/English dictionary.”

  He opened his eyes again, kissing her one last time. “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Whyever not? Did I repulse you?”

  He laughed. “No. I’ve wanted to do that for some time now.” He helped her out of her blazer and handed the coats over to the coat check and turned back her way.

  “So? Are you with someone? Is it that?”

&
nbsp; “I’m not with anyone. It’s not what I do. You work for me. It’s best not to cross those lines.”

  “I’m not your employee. I deliver packages for a company your assistant uses. And I’m not even doing that forever, as you well know. Anyway, you crossed the line. You can’t go back now.”

  She sent him a raised brow as they headed back out to the table where his friends waited.

  Chapter Five

  He watched her, her taste still on his tongue. His body aching for more. Like a fool. He never should have given in.

  He still felt the phantom of her skin against his palms, the curves of her body against his. Sweet. Yielding and yet full of fire and independence. But not part of his world. Which was a good thing. His world would ruin her.

  “Why do you look like you just sucked on a lemon?” Kelsey handed him a plate she’d filled with actual food instead of that fluff they’d had at the gallery. “Eat.”

  “I do not.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I saw Prentiss outside. Is that it? I told her I was going to call the cops if she didn’t stop loitering. Her expression was enough to get me through at least five more grumpy moods. I question your taste sometimes, Gregori.”

  Then she followed his gaze to Wren and sniffed. “Ah. Please tell me she’s not why you have that look.”

  “You’re nosy.”

  “It’s a gift, my Russian friend. So?”

  “I’m fine. Here with my friends. Drinking and now I’m about to eat. Go away and pester someone else. How about Dray? He keeps staring at you and pretending he’s not. Go bother him.”

  Kelsey sighed. “Fine.”

  His attention shifted back to Wren. She spoke, that mouth of hers curving up into a smile. He’d had his lips on that mouth just an hour before and he itched to do it again. Even as he forced himself to stay seated and merely watch her, he craved her.

  Wanted her.

  He’d known her for the better part of a year. At first she’d been all business when she’d dropped his stuff off. But over time, he’d drawn her out. Had learned she was in art school. That she had a dry sense of humor. That she didn’t take the Gregori Ivanov mask he wore seriously. At all.

  She respected his work. It wasn’t just that she told him so. Lots of people told him so. He knew he had talent and he was proud of what he’d made of himself. But it was the way she looked at what he did. The way she understood it. They were alike in that way. That got to him.

  He was constantly surrounded by people, but quite often was alone. She didn’t add to that. She pushed that aside and got into his head. She ate his cookies and drank his tea and asked him questions that let him know she listened to him and cared about him as a friend.

  That was rare.

  He looked around the room at the people gathered. Some were his friends. People who’d been around through the good times and the bad. People who’d have his back no matter how much money was in his bank account. But certainly there were others here, hangers-on. The women he’d fucked when he got the urge but he’d never expect more. Women who never spent the night. Women he took to fancy hotels. He sent them jewelry after and it had remained pleasant and civil and he knew he could have it again anytime he asked.

  Men who’d have jumped at the offer he’d made to Wren to hook them up with agents or industry people.

  He frowned, remembering he hadn’t gotten to hear her news because of Prentiss. He sighed. His ex-wife, who’d never been vibrant like Wren. A woman who had been starstruck by him and he’d gotten off on it. And then they’d ruled over their world for a while and he’d gotten off on that, too. But he didn’t want it as a lifestyle. Not every day, and she had. She’d loved the money and the trappings. Loved the way they’d gotten great tables at all the best restaurants. She’d pushed him to live in New York, hating Seattle. So he’d bought a condo, one she lived in because he’d simply walked away after the divorce.

  Ha, the divorce. He’d turned a blind eye to the other men and women. He’d enjoyed some of the women she’d been with, too. At the time it had seemed exciting, and it was, the first few times. But he needed quiet to work. He needed to relax and not have to be Gregori the artist every waking moment. It exhausted him, the mask he had to wear. But Prentiss hadn’t wanted it to be a mask. She wanted to live it full-time.

  They fought. All the time. He understood at that point that it had been part of the allure of that life for her. She liked the high drama and the makeup sex. But after a while it was just fucking with bite marks. But he didn’t want to quit. As wild as the world thought him to be, he’d taken an oath, he’d committed to her and he was loath to walk away. So when she’d filed the papers he’d been shocked. Fought her, tried to get her into counseling. But she’d been adamant. He’d given her money and the condo and come back to Seattle.

  They’d come back together a few times post-divorce and Wren had been right about who he’d been around her. He’d drunk too much, smoked too many cigarettes, done too much ecstasy. Not slept enough. Not worked enough. And then they’d fight and she’d leave and that would be that until she cruised back into town.

  But he’d put his foot down finally and realized at long last that she was not good for him. He wasn’t good for her. It was time to really be done with her. That scene outside had filled him with shame because Wren didn’t deserve that sort of thing. And it had highlighted the world of difference between the two women and what role they’d filled in his life.

  Wren didn’t want him for tickets to things, for introductions to industry people or to get into the best parties. She was his friend. Wren was something special and he’d be a fucking fool to mess that up. No matter how gorgeous she looked when she glossed up her lips and shined her hair like a glamorous starlet from the 1940s.

  She was a gloriously normal part of his life. A reminder of why he created to start with. If he fucked her it might ruin things. He needed to keep thinking with his brain and not his dick. Because he didn’t want to mess up and end up without her in his life anymore.

  “So what’s the story?” Zoe cornered Wren near the bar.

  “What story?”

  Zoe just cocked her head and waited.

  “He kissed me. Like really kissed me. I’m still tingly from it.”

  Zoe’s eyes lit. “Finally! So why is he over there and you’re over here?”

  Good question. “He made a comment that he’d been wanting to kiss me a long time but how it was a mistake because I’m an employee. I called bullshit and gave him some space. But I’m not done. Hello.”

  Her friend laughed. “So you’re all in?”

  “I don’t know if I’d go that far. But I’m not falling for some line about how that kiss was a mistake because I’m an employee. First of all, I’m not. Second? He liked that kiss and I did, too, and I’ve been waiting for him to finally make a move and it was good. We have major energy, Zo. So I’m all in as far as not letting him retreat for some silly reason. I want to see what else we can be. I don’t want him to marry me or anything. But I like him. And I know he likes me.”

  “Go you. He doesn’t stand a chance.”

  “I’m not going to force myself on him or anything. But he has these self-imposed walls he retreats behind. But I have a key. If he doesn’t want anything between us, fine, but he has to be a big boy and own it for that, not some other silly stuff.”

  Her moms had a nickname for her. The bulldog. Most of the time she was laid-back. Patient and calm. But when she really wanted something she went for it. And she didn’t stop until she had it. She turned and caught Gregori looking at her ass. She quirked up a smile and he gave her one back.

  She wanted Gregori. So he could try to retreat, but she knew where he lived.

  Chapter Six

  Wren could have taken any number of jobs to pay her bills. But being on her bike, zipping up and down the hills of downtown Seattle, weaving through traffic, it was nearly Zen. She spent her time thinking about her work instead of her job. It was p
lenty of time to simply blank out and imagine, plot, create. She had a mini recorder she used and a notepad, as well.

  It kept her body busy and the schedule was flexible enough to fit around her school and artwork so she really had few complaints. She wouldn’t do it forever, but it kept her in milk and bread and it enabled her to see Gregori Ivanov a few times every week.

  She gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror in the lobby after he buzzed her up. It had been over a week since she’d seen him and since that damned kiss. She wasn’t shiny and dressed up like she’d been then, but she wasn’t too much of a sweaty mess either.

  He opened up as she approached his door. The spit in her mouth dried up because he was sweaty. Shirtless. His hair a mess. He’d been hip deep in work, she knew given his appearance.

  “There you are.” He said this like he’d been expecting her and she’d been keeping him waiting. It made her smile.

  He stood aside and she went in. Music played loud in his studio space. The sculpture was gone and instead a canvas dominated the room.

  “I envy the way you so effortlessly move between different types of mediums.” She thrust the envelopes and small boxes she’d carried up into his arms.

  “I’m stalled.”

  He stalked into the main living area and she followed. “Stalled?”

  “I know what I want. I’m not executing it.”

  “Do you mind?” She indicated his studio and he gave an offhand wave of permission as he tore open one of the envelopes.

  Several sketches were tacked up and below them, half-done canvases. Each of them was marvelous but she knew he was a perfectionist. And she understood it. If it didn’t feel right it was hell getting it out.

  “The light. I need the right light maybe. I don’t know.” He came in, standing behind her. “I try working at different points of the day but it’s just not…” He made a movement with his hands, lost for the right words.

  “I’d tell you these are beautiful, but that’s not going to help.”

  He paused, his gaze sharpening on her. He blew out a breath then licked his lips. “News. You had news. Tell me.”