Dmitri Markhoff stands as we approach the table. Wow, he’s stunning. The whole tall, dark, and handsome thing in triplicate. He takes my hand and kisses the back of it and I fight not to swoon like a moron.
His smile widens as he winks at me. Ivan growls something in Russian, so damn sexy even if it sends a flash of fear up my spine. I’m relieved it’s Dmitri he’s looking at as if he wants to tear him limb from limb. Dmitri responds in Russian, and with a gentle squeeze he drops my hand.
His eyes are on me now. “How fortunate I am for you to join us. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever meet you. I have heard much about you from Ivan and Lydia. It would seem Ivan wanted you all to himself. Now I understand why.” He pulls out a chair beside him and motions for me to sit.
Stop blushing, you idiot. He’s teasing Ivan, it was obvious. And it was working. Ivan’s hand goes around my arm like a vice and steers me into the chair beside him. A single word in Russian is bitten out at Dmitri; I don’t have to speak Russian to know it’s a bad word.
Dmitri laughs. “English. Your lovely companion is confused. My apologies, Christina, I was simply remarking how lucky Ivan is to have such an intelligent assistant, but a beautiful one as well. It is rare.”
“Thank you,” I murmur as I fight the blush rising all over again. The man is way hotter than he has a right to be. Now I can understand Lydia saying his wife was madly in love with him.
“Continue flirting with my woman and I send you home to your wife with a busted lip,” Ivan responds coldly.
My stomach drops at the same time my nipples harden at the “my woman” part. Um...what does that mean? I almost ask out loud but Ivan still looks scary. I’ll save the question for later.
“Truce, my friend. I ordered you whiskey; drink.” Dmitri pushes the glass toward Ivan. I’m jealous, I could use a drink rig
ht about now.
The waitress comes to take our order and just like that the tension disappears completely between the two men.
Over the next two hours it isn’t easy to keep up with their rapid-fire discussion about the merits and issues with the project. My pen moves across the pad so fast my wrist is beginning to hurt.
I’m relieved and disappointed as they draw the discussion to a close. Dmitri’s son, Maksim, has a doctor’s appointment he promised his wife he would be there for.
“Is everything all right?” Ivan’s concern is clear.
Dmitri nods. “He is fine. It is time to get his shots. Elise does not do well seeing the children in pain. She is as likely to end up in tears as Maksim. There is only one nurse in the practice allowed to give our children their shots—I had to prevent her from striking one nurse who did seem to stab more than simply pierce the skin.”
I wince. “Poor baby.”
“Yes, my wife is a tad emotional.”
“So all Russian men come out hard and mean?” The question slips out.
A nod. “You spend a few winters in Russia and you will develop a hard shell simply to stay alive. And while we might have come from Russia, were you not aware Ivan and I long ago lost our Russian citizenship? Many Russians are so proud of their country they would bristle with hostility to hear us referred to as Russians now. Me more than fifteen years ago. Ivan became an Englishman when you were— What was it, eight?” Ivan nods. “Political asylum seekers are often fast tracked, they used to be. Then American seven years ago.”
“I didn’t know you became an American citizen.” I look to Ivan.
He shrugs as he sips his water. “The tax rate of the United States is far lower than the United Kingdom. It was a business decision.”
Dmitri stands. “I must be going. A pleasure to meet you, Christina. I look forward to seeing you again, soon.”
He makes a move to take my hand. Ivan growls his name. Laughing, he nods at me instead as he walks away.
10
Christina
Even though Dmitri is gone, Ivan is tense, the air around him vibrating with restless energy. I don’t dare look up from my pad as I doodle, wondering why we aren’t leaving too. I chance a glance around the large room; despite the still busy state of the restaurant in the front, here where there are more than twenty tables available, it’s just us. Tim said they both preferred this restaurant due to the staff’s willingness to keep this area clear for only them as long as they needed it.
“I did not like the way you flirted with him. You were staring at him.” The words are growled at me.
I feel his eyes on me but don’t meet them—I’m too embarrassed. “He was, is...I didn’t mean to. He’s very attractive. It’s kind of hard to ignore. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
A hand grips my chin, pulling up to meet his eyes. His touch is wreaking havoc with my breathing, and my body. “You think he is attractive?” The words drop like stones.
I try to shake my head but his grip is too tight. Without thinking I grasp his wrist. It is so thick my hand barely gets halfway around it. The strength in it has me shaking. “Not like that. He isn’t—I...”