I smile, knowing exactly what she’s asking but unwilling to give her the answer she wants. Not yet. “Playing the game, little doe. The only way to win is to see it through to the end.”
She nods, understanding even as disappointment flickers across her face. “Goodnight, then.”
I watch her walk to her building, shoulders squared despite the confusion I know she must be feeling. Only when she’s safely inside do I signal the driver to continue on to my penthouse.
Alone in the backseat, I close my eyes and lean my head back. The scent of her perfume lingers, teasing me with possibilities.
Irina Petrov makes sense on paper. She’s the logical choice. The safe choice. The one my father would approve of.
But logic has never tasted as sweet as the gasp Rowan couldn’t quite suppress when I touch
