Page 62 of Scarlet Vows

“And ‘Oh, Ilya, look at that puppy. Isn’t he adorable?’” He chuckles and goes back to the dishes. “That puppy was a huge rottweiler with snarling teeth and a lot of bloodlust and drool.”

“He was cute. He showed me his belly for a rub.”

“Only you, Alina.”

Heat rises, Ilya’s praise making me tingle all over, making my heart thump and my blood pound.

It scares me. I know the way I look at him is changing, has changed, no matter how much I try and stop it. And it terrifies me about what it means.

I’m in a barrel, careening over an edge, and I can’t slow it. I can’t stop it from picking up more and more weight, which makes it go faster, and when it plummets off that edge…

Anxiety pools in my stomach, making me a little sick.

I drain my coffee. “There are dogs to get to, Ilya,” I mutter. “I have to go. I promised the manager, Eva, I’d be there this morning.”

“The driver’s waiting. Demyan will kill me extra hard if you don’t ride with him.”

I wave and run out of the room, pretending I’m late.

I’m such a coward.

Thing is, it’s not a complete lie, I tell myself as I grab my bag and head out.

My driver’s smoking with one of the maids, who glances at me and rushes off. I really don’t care what they do, but I guess, as I’m now lady of the house, I’m meant to care?

“Hi, Gus,” I say as he puts out his cigarette and opens the door. “To that shelter where you picked me up yesterday, please.”

He salutes.

Some days, he really doesn’t have much to do, unless Demyan or someone commandeers him, so I don’t feel bad getting him to take me to the shelter.

Maybe I should call Isla to talk to her about all this, but she already thinks I’m withdrawing. I’m not, though. And she thinks Ilya’s into me, and he’s told me emphatically that he’s not.

Did he feel something from that kiss at the wedding? Truly feel something like I did?

I drag my thoughts from that and back to the shelter.

I know what my heart wants.

For Ilya to let me get a dog.

When I arrive, I take a breath and step inside. A little girl and her mom are there, with a young dog who’s eagerly dancing around them both.

“This is my new puppy.” The little girl beams up at me as she’s handed the leash. “Her name is Petal.”

“His,” says her mother. “She’s a he.”

“His name is Petal.”

Petal wasn’t here yesterday, but I bend down for a doggy kiss from the scrappy dog. He’s cute and friendly and darts anxious looks at his new human. I’m guessing he wants to get out of the shelter and into his new forever home.

When they leave, the little girl with her dog on a leash and the mother with an armful of toys, food, puppy pads, and papers, I smile at Eva.

“You came back!”

“I said I would.”

“You did, Alina,” Eva says wryly. “You’d be shocked at the number of people who come in and say they’ll be back and never return. Don’t get me wrong, even a day of volunteering helps, but…consistency is key with the dogs. Petal was lucky. He got dumped on us this morning, and those two fell in love.”