“Why don’t you say it a little louder, so the whole city can hear you?” he chided.
“Who cares if they do?”
“I want you to stay somewhere public until I come get you.”
The tone of his voice made my throat feel thick. “Ivan, you’re scaring me.”
“Good. Now, go hand one of the saleswomen your phone so I can find out where you are.”
I took a step in the front counter’s direction, but something stopped me. “I’m not ready to go home.”
“This is not about what you wan—”
“No, it never is, is it?” My voice rose. “I know about my papa’s other family. You don’t have to scare me into coming home to keep the secret anymore. For once, I’m thinking about myself.”
Silence.
“Mila—”
“Goodbye, Ivan.”
“Mila—”
I ended the call.
With a huff, I pushed a hanger on the rack aside. Receiving another call from him, I turned the phone off and dropped it into my pocket, but his ominous words still played on a reel in the back of my mind.
la vie en rose
(n.) life through rose-colored glasses
My dress was yellow and flowy with an umber crocheted bodice. It was modest except for the inch it showed of my midsection and the slit up the thigh. The heels I wore were clear and sparkly, lacing halfway up my calves to show off my best feature. I was the queen of ponytails, but I chose to leave the straightened locks down, and as usual, I applied a light amount of makeup.
I was ready an hour early and spent the rest of the time chewing my glossed lip and pacing back and forth. Nerves swam in my stomach, making me lightheaded. I should have eaten something earlier, but I had an unhealthy habit of forgetting until food was placed in front of me.
I didn’t believe Ronan thought of this as a date, but I couldn’t stop the whisper of anticipation that tightened my lungs. A very stupid, romantic part of me had hearts in her eyes. Never mind the fact I was soon to accept an archaic proposal from a man who was probably screwing some Texan oil heiress right now.
Ronan knocked on the door at eight on the dot.
He consumed the entire doorway. Dark eyes, broad shoulders, and smooth black lines. He filled out a suit better than any man I ever saw, though his presence seemed to overwhelm the seams as if they could barely contain him.
We only stared at each other for a second longer than comfortable, and when my breath began to slow beneath his penetrating silence, I forced a word past my lips.
“Privet.” Hello.
He raised a brow. “So you do know some Russian?”
A flush crept up my neck. “A little.”
I stepped out, closing the door behind me. He didn’t move back like I expected him to, and it left only a couple of inches between us. We were so close I couldn’t breathe. So close, yellow and black almost touched. So close, I could kiss him with a small rise to my toes. In four-inch heels, I stood eye level with his mouth, which put him at a solid six foot five.
“You’re kind of tall for a girl,” he mused, looking down on me.
I released a shallow breath. “Thanks.”
When he laughed softly, I sighed in my mind. My crush couldn’t be any clearer if I waved an “I LOVE YOU!” sign like a fangirl at a boy band concert.
As we walked down the hall, I told him, “You didn’t have to pay for my room.”