Chapter 28

Mishka

Istared at the bright deep pink dress laying on the bed. It wasn't the most daring Anton had bought for me, but it was the most eye catching. It had a subtle animal print in a darker print, that was not screaming retro 89's, as much as you would expect it to. It sounded like it should be tacky, but it wasn't. It was actually exquisite.

The cut, however, was sexier than anything I had ever worn in my entire life. Not because it was low cut or short. It was neither. It had a simple crew neck, long sleeves, and fell to my ankles.

I would be showing almost no skin at all.

But every inch of my curves.

The dress clung to me in a way that was beyond provocative. It was nearly indecent. Or I thought so. But it was completely lady like at the same time.

I reached down to touch the lace underthings that had also been selected for me. I could not imagine that they would support my curves or bottom in any significant way, but maybe that was the point. I blushed at the thought of being so on display for my boss.

For anyone, really. But especially for him. I could imagine his eyes drifting lazily over me, a sexy smile appearing on his masculine face.

There were shoes as well. Black satin heels. Much higher and far less supportive looking than my work shoes. I did remember trying them on, though. They had been far more comfortable than they looked.

I stiffed a yawn. It had been a long day. I wasn't sure how I was expected to make it through dinner.

As if magic, I smelled coffee. A soft knock on the door followed a moment later. I was freshly showered and wrapped in a plush hotel robe.

I peeked out the door. Anton stood there, looking disarmingly sexy. He was half dressed, with his shirt partially unbuttoned and his hair damp and tousled. A lock fell across his forehead, making him look boyishly handsome.

Judging from the look in his eyes, he thought I looked good, too. His nostril flared. For a minute I thought he was going to charge me like a bull. Part of me wanted him to.

My stomach did a little flip flop.

He stepped closer, not quite in the doorway. His eyes were devouring me. I glanced down, feeling like I was naked. But no. I was enveloped in the enormous robe. There was no way he could see anything underneath the robe.

But the look in his eyes…

"I thought you could use a pick me up," he said, holding out the tiny cup and saucer. I took it gratefully.

"Thank you. I am a little tired."

"We could skip dinner," he said with a wry twist of his lips. "If you like."

"What?"

"I can't imagine you would look better in that dress."

I stared at him, not sure what to say. He was staring at my mouth. He cleared his throat and stepped back.

"What do you think, Mishka? Would you rather get room service and watch a movie?"

"Won't your business associates mind if you cancel?"

"I don't care."

"It's up to you," I said. I was hungry. But I was tired.

"I'm calling it. Let's stay in. I can meet them for breakfast before our departure. Or we can see them on our way back home. Before Paris," he added.

I blinked. What else did he have planned for us? It was strange and exhilarating to let go and let someone else plan. But I felt uncertain. And too tired to think clearly.

"Should I put the dress on? Or my uniform?" I felt relieved. I could barely keep my eyes open. I sipped the cappuccino. I had no idea what to wear to eat with my boss in such an intimate setting.

"No uniform. I think we should burn it," he joked.

"I… what?"

He ignored my stammering response, clearly in problem solving mode.

"Didn't we get you something for the plane ride? Lounge wear? Or feel free to leave on the robe," he joked.

"I…"

"I've shocked you. May I come in?"

I stepped back. He brushed past me, so close that I could smell him. The warm, familiar scent of him washed over me. I nearly melted. Was I falling in love with my boss? My captor? Or was I just so tired that I wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet?

He walked to the deep closet and stepped inside. I followed him. I hadn't even looked in there. He riffled through some drawers and reached inside. He pulled out a set of olive-green velvet wide leg pants with a matching cowl neck top.

"A bit warm to sleep in perhaps, but you should have a couple of things like this for lounging."

"Oh," I said. I didn't remember trying that on. I realized he had truly furnished me with a complete wardrobe. A rich woman's wardrobe, I amended. "Thank you."

He nodded. Then walked briskly to the bed. He reached for the clothing there, then pulled his hand back as if it was burned. I looked at him and realized he was staring at the lingerie set. My cheeks turned pink. I felt naked. I was naked, under the robe, anyway.

"I'll… order for us. Unless you want something specific," his voice sounded strangled. He was still looking at the bed.

I shook my head, then realized he couldn't see me. He was lost in his thoughts. For once, I had a very good idea what those thoughts were about.

Me. In lacy underthings. On that bed.

"Yes, thank you."

He tore his eyes from the bed, and stared at me. He looked desperate, as if he was an animal trapped in a cage, frantic to get out. I swallowed and held my robe closed shut, feeling suddenly fearful. As if I was also an animal, but a smaller one.

One that he wanted to eat.

He turned abruptly and walked briskly to the door. He shut it behind him without hesitation. I sank to the bed, still holding my robe closed. It was almost ten minutes before my heart rate stabilized. I slowly got dressed, and put the discarded evening clothes away.

I steeled my nerves, and prepared to eat an intimate dinner with Anton.