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Angelina leaves us and I give Olivia an expectant look. “Well?”

“Well, what?” She frowns as I point to the food in front of us. Her mouth drops open. “You expect me to serve you?”

“In many ways,malyshka, but you can start by serving dinner.”

Olivia’s jaw clenches. I fully expect her to throw something at me, perhaps a glass of wine. I’d welcome an outburst as an excuse to drag her over my knee and thrash her ass. Sadly, she doesn’t take the bait. Instead, she smiles sweetly, rises from her chair, and gives me an incredible view of her breasts as she places three slices of meat, a spoonful of potatoes, and someartichoke on my plate. Then she sits back in her seat and crosses her arms over her chest, quietly fuming as I unfurl my napkin and drape it over my lap.

“Haven’t you forgotten something?” I ask as I slice off a piece of steak.

“What? Did you want me to chew it for you?”

“Less of the attitude,” I warn her, though I actually get a buzz out of her speaking to me in that insolent tone. I point my fork at her plate. “You didn’t take any for yourself.”

“Oh.” She was so busy being pissed at me, she didn’t even realize she hadn’t given herself any food. She takes two slices of the steak and some artichoke, but leaves the potatoes.

“Don’t tell me you’re on a low-carb kick?” If anything, Olivia could stand to gain a few pounds, not that I’d ever dictate what she eats.

“No. I could never give up bread or pasta. I just don’t like potatoes.”

It’s a little thing, but I guess I learned something new about her. The tension eases as Olivia takes a bite of her steak and moans in appreciation.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” I cut off a generous piece and pop it in my mouth.

“Divine,” Olivia agrees.

As we eat, Olivia slowly relaxes and conversation flows more easily between us. It’s mainly me asking her about her food and travel preferences, safe topics, and her answering. She does occasionally show some interest in my life, so that’s something.

Though she made me wait for her, it’s been worth it. I’ve seen a less guarded version of Olivia that I like. It’s not essential for me to enjoy spending time with my bride outside of the bedroom, but I would prefer not to want to strangle my wife every second of the day. Sure, Olivia will push my buttons now and then, but, on balance, I think she’ll make a suitable wife.

As she swallows her last bite of artichoke and sets her knife and fork down on her plate, I decide the time is right to remind her of what I want. Taking the red velvet box from my jacket pocket, I slide it across the table.

“What’s this?” Olivia asks suspiciously.

“Open it and see.”

She picks up the box and opens it warily, as if she expects a bomb to go off. The five-carat Asscher cut diamond ring wasn’t the most expensive in the exclusive store I bought it from, but the moment I saw it I pictured it on Olivia’s finger. Most women would be thrilled to receive such a gift, but the expression on Olivia’s face is one of pure horror.

“What is this?” Her words come out in a breathless rush. “Piotr?”

I reach across the table and take her hand as she drops the box onto the table. “It’s your engagement ring,malyskha.”

It won’t be a long engagement. I intend to speak to Antonio tonight to arrange for the ceremony to take place in New York a week from now.

“No.” Olivia shakes her head. Snatching her hand away from mine, she flings her chair back violently as she jumps up.

“You knew this was coming,” I tell her as she stares down at me, those deep blue eyes filled with panic. “You knew I wanted you.”

“Yes, but I need…”

Not bothering to tell me she needs time or whatever bullshit she was going to come out with, Olivia whirls around and runs from the restaurant. I’ve got to admit, it’s impressive how fast she moves in those heels.

I take a roll of cash from my pocket and throw down enough money to cover the bill, plus a generous tip. Grabbing the jewelry box she discarded, I follow Olivia outside. She’s heading toward a dark blue SUV I recognize as Damiano’s. He may not have accompanied her into the restaurant, but he obviously hung around to ensure she got home safely. I should be insulted by that, but I like that Olivia’s family looks out for her.

Marching up behind the feisty brunette, I grab her arm and steer her back toward the building we just exited.

“Let go!” she screeches.

“Not a chance,malyskha.”