Page 20 of The Pakhan's Arranged Bride

“Fine,” he says, reluctantly stepping away from me. “I’ll be back in two hours.”

My entire body relaxes, releasing the panic that was starting to form. Two hours is perfect.

“Run along,” I say, as sassy as ever, gesturing for him to leave.

He laughs, a low, dark laugh that teases me, making me wonder what beautiful sounds he would make if I was straddling him.

Dammit. Focus.

Benedikt leaves the lingerie shop, and I sneak close to the window so that I can watch him climb into his car parked just down the road. I need to make sure he’s really going. I glance at my watch, noting the time. When he comes back, I better be ready, or there will be too many questions for me to answer. Especially after getting caught snooping the other day.

My phone chimes in my back pocket. I pull it out, excited that it might be an update regarding Miron.

It is.

The guy I’ve hired to feed me information tells me that Miron is on his way now and should arrive at the restaurant within the next ten minutes.

My heart beats faster. The anticipation of seeing him makes me sick inside, but the anger I have towards him makes me excited. Excited to see him pay for what he did.

I hurry from the store, out onto the street, walking towards the restaurant. I want to find a good spot to wait where I have a view of the entrance.

I’ve been waiting a long time to find him.

The clock ticks, moving slower than usual as I sit at a coffee shop with my eyes glued to the restaurant door.

I keep glancing at my watch, thinking that ten minutes must have passed by now.

They have. It’s been twenty.

Did I miss him?

No, it’s not possible, I’ve been here the entire time. He just got caught up somewhere—delayed. He’ll be here. Don’t move now and miss this opportunity.

I wait.

The coffee I’ve ordered is cold in front of me, and I still haven’t taken my eyes off the restaurant.

No, something’s not right. It’s been forty-five minutes and he hasn’t arrived.

I leave the coffee shop, my coffee untouched.

Hurrying around the side of the restaurant, I check if there are any other entrances, a delivery door or some kind of back way into the place.

It’s chained up. The chains are rusted and old. I don’t think Miron would have come in this way.

Maybe I’m at the wrong restaurant.

I run around to the front and check the name. It’s the right place.

Panic and frustration surge through me and I start hurrying further down the street, then back up again, searching everywhere, hunting through the crowds, peering into windows, looking for Miron.

When I check my watch again, I only have fifteen minutes before Benedikt arrives, and I haven’t even purchased any lingerie.

“Fuck,” I mutter angrily.

Jogging back to the lingerie shop, I burst in through the doors, my heart racing from adrenaline.

I don’t have time to think about anything, so I take the baby blue set. It’s beautiful. Benedikt has good taste.