He feigned offense by touching his chest. "Me? Gauche?"
"No," I said with a laugh. "Pretentious? Yes."
"Ouch!" He chuckled at my playful barb. "Since you haven't seen the upstairs, I think you should reserve your judgment on that account."
"Why? Is your bed made of pure gold?"
His eyes darkened with need. "You'll have to wait and see."
I swallowed hard at the implication. After the way he'd rocked my world in the shower, I didn't know if I'd survive a tumble between his sheets.
He held out his hand. "Dinner?"
I nodded and joined him at the door. "Does Feodor cook?"
"Not tonight," Yuri said. "I wouldn't want him to feel the stress of making everything perfect for you so I made other arrangements."
"Is he seeing someone about his hands?"
Yuri glanced at me in surprise. "You noticed?"
"Of course."
"He's going to the best man in Houston. Feodor says his hands and knees feel better but I try not to let him take on too much. This is supposed to be his retirement."
"Then you should get this place staffed, Yuri. Put him in a managerial position but make sure he's well-supported. You'll have peace of mind and he'll be happy knowing he's looking after your home."
Regret tightened his expression. "You're right. I shouldn't keep putting off the hiring of new staff. My priorities lately—"
"Are out of balance?" I interjected carefully.
Yuri stopped walking and turned to look at me. He gave a reluctant nod of his head. "Very."
Stress radiated from him in waves. I rubbed his arm. "Don't you have an assistant?"
"For the business, yes, but not personally." He made a face and slashed his hand through the air. "I don't want someone I don't know poking around in my personal and home life."
"Well, you can't do it all. A man in your position has a million things on his plate. I can only imagine how many things you've put on hold to spend the day with me." I cupped his jaw and ran my thumb over his bottom lip. "You have to find someone you can lean on, Yuri."
He gripped my hand. I trembled under the intensity of his piercing gaze. "Help me, Lena?"
I reared back with shock. "What? Me?"
"You." He ran his finger down my cheek. "It has to be you. I trust you to help me find some balance in my life."
I opened my mouth to decline the offer but then slammed my lips together. What else did I have going on right now? A whole lot of nothing. My blog had always been something I'd updated on the fly and dedicated an hour to in the morning and another two hours or so in the evening. Without a job to fill in my daytime hours, I had a lot of empty time to occupy.
"Okay," I agreed softly. "But," I held up a finger, "I do this my way. I won't have you micro-managing me and standing over my shoulder. If you give me a set of tasks to accomplish, you have to trust that I'll accomplish them efficiently and to your standards without your involvement."
"All right. I can pay—"
I put my hand over his mouth. "No."
"Yes," he replied, his answer muffled my palm.
We both smiled as he tugged my hand away from his face.
"Lena, you can't work for free. That's insulting."
"Here's the thing, Yuri. I have a pretty good feeling that if I'm hanging around your house doing this personal assistant thing, you're probably going to seduce me every chance you get—and I'm going to let you. Taking your money while we're involved would be distasteful. I won't give people a reason to talk about our private business."
He grumbled but didn't disagree with me about inviting gossip. "Let me make you a deal."
"I'm listening."
"Work with me until you find new employment. When you make the move into a new position, we'll settle up with what I owe you for the hours you've worked for me. That way you won't be my paid employee and my girlfriend at the same time."
Even though I didn't want to violate my principle of taking money from a man who was also heating up the sheets with me, I recognized that it was fair to be paid for my work. This wasn't a perfect solution but it was elegant enough for me to accept.
Glad the he understood my concerns of mixing money and pleasure, I acquiesced with a nod. "Okay. I can live with that."
"Good." He kissed my forehead. "Tonight, over dinner, we'll draw up a contract so it's entirely legit."
"On a napkin?" I asked playfully.
"Only the very best for you," he replied with a smile.
I rolled my eyes and wound my arm around his. "So where's this dinner you promised me?"
"Probably waiting for us in the dining room," he said matter-of-factly. "I hired a private chef for the evening."
"Ooh! Fancy!" I gave his arm a little pinch. "A gourmet meal sure beats my offering of cold cereal any day."
"I'm sure Feodor would be delighted to trek down into the cereal cellar to pick out a box of our very best vintage. I hear 2010 was a particularly good year for marshmallows."
"Really?" I giggled at his silliness. "A cereal cellar?"
"Well, I am pretentious after all."
"Yes. Extremely," I added with a grin. "And me? What am I?"
Yuri considered me for a moment. His lips pressed against my temple. "Perfectly perfect."
I wasn't so sure about that but I wasn't about to contradict such a lovely compliment. "Thank you. That's sweet."
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and gathered me close to his side. I kept pace with him as we made our way into a cozy dining room just off the kitchen. It was smaller than the larger formal dining he'd shown me and fully furnished unlike most of the rooms I'd seen.
A moment after we'd taken our seats, Feodor appeared with a decanter of wine. As he filled my glass, he smiled at me. "I placed your things in the guest room, Miss Cruz."
"Okay. Um—thanks."
With a nod, he left the dining room. I glanced across the table at Yuri who sipped his wine and eyed me carefully. "What is it, Lena?"
I dragged my finger along the edge of the table. "The guest room?"
"I didn't dare presume."
I understood what he meant. Whatever happened tonight, it was my choice.
And I had already made my decision.
Chapter Nine
After a delicious dinner and delectable dessert course, I found myself curled in the corner of a cushy sofa in Yuri's office. It was the only other room on the first floor that had been furnished and decorated. We'd fallen into a discussion about the European pipeline he wanted to construct. With his long legs stretched out in front of him, he sat on the opposite end of the couch. I still couldn't believe how damn sexy he made a pair of jeans look.
"So that's the problem with the pipeline in a nutshell." He wiped a hand down his face and shook his head. "Every time I think I have the project nailed down, something pops up and there's a setback."