“You won’t.” She put those manicured hands on her hips. “Thank you for bringing me home against my will, Mr. Ivanov.”
“No problem. I promise to always bring you home against your will in the future too.”
Viktor opened the door.
“Goodbye.” She walked into her building.
I went in too.
Viktor and my men followed.
She headed to the elevator and checked over her shoulder. “Really?”
“I truly want to pet your cat.”
She grumbled.
“I love animals, especially cute ones.”
Viktor rushed forward to push the elevator’s button.
The doors slid open.
We got on.
I stood right next to her.
She looked up at me. “You’re not coming into my home.”
“I can't get a cup of tea?” I gazed down at her. “Didn't you grow up as a proper lady?”
Viktor pushed the button for the twentieth floor.
She rolled her eyes. “I'm only a proper lady for proper gentlemen—the sort that don’t spy on me and know I have a pet in the first place. How did your men even find that out anyway?”
I turned my view back to the front. “If you have to ask, then you’re not prepared for the answer.”
The doors closed.
The elevator rose.
“Although I was born and raised in America, I am Russian at heart. People think Russians are all about vodka. Tea is our main drink. As soon as you enter any Russian house you’ll always be offered tea, and when you finish then your cup will be refilled immediately.”
“Dimitri, I am not Russian.”
“But I am and it would please me.”
“I’m not here to please you.”
“You actually are.” I pulled out one of her memory cards out of my pocket and raised it in the air. “Do you remember this?”
She stared at it. “You’re going to give me one back, if I let you come into my condo?”
“No. I’m already coming into the condo. This is for a steaming hot cup of tea.”
“You’re serious?”
“I really like tea.”
She looked at the memory card and then back at me. “What type of tea do you like?”
“Guess.”
The elevator stopped on twentieth floor.
The doors slid open.
I left.
She walked off with me. “You don’t seem like a chamomile type of guy.”
“Exactly. My cock is too big for that. Big dick men don’t sip chamomile.”
She let out a long sigh.
“I’m just giving you helpful clues.”
“Maybe, you're an Earl Grey guy, due to your huge ego.”
“Earl Grey is correct.” He winked at me. “I love my tea black.”
We approached the door.
She pulled out her keys from her bag, unlocked it, and then she stepped aside to hold the door open for me. I entered with my men.
She did too and closed the door. “Should I make tea for your guards too or—”
“They’re not thirsty.”
She set her purse down. “You didn’t ask them.”
“It doesn’t matter. They know I wouldn’t like it.”
“Like what?”
“Your making tea for them.”
“Why not?”
“Because I get possessive when I’m dating a woman.”
She laughed. “We are not dating.”
I scanned her condo, assessing her personality from the furniture choices. Our homes were consistent reflections of ourselves. They told our story. I walked around, slowly flipping the pages of my naughty Rose.
No surprise, she had a metropolitan chic. Everything modern. Very symbolic of a posh city girl with no budget. The living room showed off gorgeous details with some mix of colors and patterns. Black and white photos hung on the walls, displaying various locations around the world.
“You took these images?”
“Yes.” She pointed to my right. “The tea is in the kitchen.”
“I’m learning about you.” I walked over to a photo of a mother elephant splashing water on to her baby elephant. “Thailand?”
She peered at it. “How did you know that?”
“The small bit of temple in the back.”
“Still, that shouldn’t have given you an automatic clue.”
I pointed to the black clay buddha statue on the table. “That too.”
“How. . .did you know that was from Thailand?”
“Buddha statues vary from country to country. Thailand typically uses stone, wood, clay, or metal cast images of the Buddha.”
An odd expression hit her face. “Um. . .so, you’re Buddhist?”
“I don’t believe in religion, but I do put my faith in spirituality. However, back to you.” I left that photo and looked at the others. “Why do you only want one child?”
“What?” Shock covered her face. “Where did you get that from?”
I gestured to the other black and white photos. “The ones with animals are of a mother and their one baby.”
“That doesn’t have to mean that I only want one kid.”
I glanced her way. “But, do you?”
She frowned. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“I think motherhood would be super difficult. Therefore, if I have one kid, then I can focus all my time and attention on him or her and hopefully not mess it up.”
“Because your parents messed it up.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I want five kids.” I headed down the hallway towards her bedroom.
“Excuse me! Where are you going?” She followed.
“I’m wondering what color is on your bed.”