Chapter 7 (part II)

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"Who is it? A model?" Marianna couldn't help herself from asking. Maxim took time to respond. Finally, he took his eyes off the drawing and looked at Marianna as if he had already forgotten that she was sitting there, in the middle of his penthouse, flashing her bare legs.

"It's Snow White," Maxim muttered.

"From the fairy tale?" Marianna was surprised. "I wouldn't have thought. I did not think she was this tall and skinny. Plus, the sneakers . . . You have a very interesting view on—"

"Marianna, right?" Maxim interrupted her, sitting down on the couch beside her. He took the drawing from her hands and gently put it back on the table, looking straight into Marianna's eyes.

"Yes," she nodded. Suddenly, he took her hand. That's it! It worked! He liked her! His touch made Marianna shiver and blush.

"Could you do me a favor?" he asked her in a silky voice, shifting his gaze from her eyes to her lips. Oh, he knew how to play these games. Marianna smiled victoriously.

"Of course. Anything!" Marianna nodded and licked her upper lip. She was ready.

"Anything? Wow!" he murmured playfully, and then he said something that surprised her. "I need all the materials from the press conference at the museum."

"Materials? What materials?" It was a strange request. Marianna gave Maxim a bewildered look but he kept squeezing her hand and staring at her face, shoulders, and her very revealing blouse.

"All of the materials. Videos, photos. Could you do it . . . for me?" he asked in a hoarse voice, smiling a sexy smile.

"I . . . I will try." Marianna leaned forward trying to reach his lips. She would kiss him first. She would kiss him right now because he was obviously waiting for her to do it!

"Thank you!" he said all of a sudden in a calm, non-sexy voice, and let go of her hand. Maxim got up, and the magic was gone. What the hell? What about the kiss? Why the hell did he need the materials from the exhibition? Was he going to analyze how it all went? To be honest, it didn't go well. Only . . . it was all because of him, wasn't it?

The day before yesterday, Korshun left the exhibition right in the middle of the press conference and never came back, which had infuriated all the journalists. The only records they had left from the meeting were the ones of him approaching them next to the staircase. The cameramen had missed his arrival. Normally, they would ask "the star" to enter the hall one more time but Maxim disappeared pretty much five minutes after they had gone up. And now he was sitting in his room drawing some unknown wench. Requesting all the videos. All of them! He was strange.

"But . . . why do you need them?" Marianna finally dared ask him. Maxim just smiled one of his special "devilish" smiles and shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm afraid that the camera makes me look fat. I just want to check," he said, looking at Marianna with his innocent gray eyes.

"I'll talk to the cameramen. Well then, maybe you'll agree . . ." Marianna's voice sounded very erotic, velvety and tempting, "to appear as the guest at our late-night talk show?"

"Late-night?" Maxim kept smiling. "Does this mean that the recording is tonight?"

"That's right." Marianna went for another attempt. She gracefully lifted her hands pretending to be fixing her hair. The thin fabric of her blouse stretched out and Maxim involuntarily stared at her hardened nipples piercing the fabric. Marianna had beautiful breasts.

"I can't do tonight," he shook his head playfully.

"Just give me something," Marianna kept going, still looking down and not lowering her arms.

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