Page 199 of Hate to Love You
“Absolutely not. He hates me,” I lie with a giggle. “Every time I go into work in a skirt, he yells at me.”
“Girl, if he stares at you anymore, he’ll set you on fire.”
A laugh bursts from my chest.
Glancing up to VIP, I see Oleg leaning against a corner booth. But just as I do, Roman Antonov once again, steps into my line of sight, sipping his glass and staring at me. I can practically feel the heat of his eyes on my skin.
How does he do this?
This man drives me fucking crazy.
But no matter how possessive, how impossibly overbearing, and how infuriatingly sexy he might be, tonight he’s a distraction from my work.
“Why don’t you go for, Roman?” I ask, silently smothering my demons as they riot, my heart trying to overthrow my head.
“Roman?” She gasps. “No, I couldn’t…”
“Why not?” I say sweetly, hiding behind my glass.
As much as I hate the idea of anyone getting close to Roman Antonov, I need him distracted tonight. Because even with it being switch night, I still know there isn’t a chance in hell I’ll be able to take out Oleg with Mr. Over possessive watching me like a hawk.
“Why not? Because you and him…” She trails off, her hands tapping against the stem of the wine glass.
“There is no me and him,” I lie, swallowing past the growing lump in my throat. “There can’t be.”
But yet, my heart screams a single word:
Mine.
The music pounds, the bass vibrating as bodies grind against one another on the dance floor. My shoulder bumps into a couple as they devour each other right there in front of everyone. I quickly flick my eyes away from them, feeling the heat in my cheeks, remembering the way that Roman had devoured me.
Stop it. Stay focused.
The moment midnight struck the music cranked up, and a flood of curious basic bitches, who would normally never be allowed to set foot in the VIP Lounge, practically trample each other trying to score one of its inhabitants for the night.
It takes less than ten minutes for the bouncers to start limiting how many people can be up there at the same time, simply for the weight limit allowed by the suspended glass floor.
However, I remain in my seat sipping my Rose Martini as Oleg slowly makes his way down onto the main floor.
And suddenly an idea comes to me.
“Lizzie,” I say, turning to her with a smile. “I need your help.”
“Oohh!” She says, throwing back her third drink before leaning in excitedly. “With what?”
“So… I lied. I do want Roman,” I say, trying to appear bashful. “But I don’t want him to know it. And I don’t want to approach him outright. You know, since he’s been such a dick to me at the office.”
“Okay…”
“I have a plan,” I playfully scrunch up my face. “And I want to make him a little jealous,”
“Yessss!” Lizzie giggles, clapping her hands together and biting her lip.
“So, my thought is, what if you go and talk to him, just to distract him for a little bit,” I say, biting my lip. “So, I can approach a different guy, and well…we’ll just see how Mr. CEO reacts.”
“Ooooh! Oh my God!” She squeals excitedly. “I love that!”
“Can you do that for me?” I ask, pressing my hands together in a prayer pose.