Page 10

I’m tiptoeing around Nestor every day. I can’t believe I agreed to stay with him if he paid my debts. It makes me ill to think about how I was fine with selling myself like that. Although he hasn’t made any strange or awkward demands on me, and he’s been keeping a polite distance.

I admit, my attraction to him is something I’m struggling with. He clearly feels the same way about me. There have been a number of very tense, very intimate moments, but both of us have been avoiding another situation like the kiss.

But now tonight he’s taking me to dinner. There is no way to avoid being around him if we’re out for the evening.

I’m standing in front of my closet, wrapped in a silk robe, fresh out of the shower.

My hair is already pinned up in a messy bun on top of my head, I did some light makeup, and now I’m trying to decide what to wear.

I toss another dress onto the bed, wondering what I’m supposed to make of all this. I have no idea where we’re going, or if it’s just us or if it includes other people, like business partners or something.

The more I think about it, the more nervous I get, because I literally know nothing about his life—where he likes to go, what his favorite foods are, the type of people he hangs out with. Or what he expects from me.

I toss a fourth and a fifth dress onto the bed and stare at them all, trying to decide which one might work for something fancy and something relaxed, seeing as he’s told me nothing.

Eventually, I settle on the little black number. It’s always the trusted go-to when you can’t figure anything else out.

Shrugging my robe off my shoulders, I let it fall to the floor.

I step into the black dress and wiggle the fitted style over my hips, slipping my arms into the long sleeves and then maneuvering with a bit of skill to try and grab the zipper at the back.

I hear a chuckle coming from the bedroom door and realize I’ve left it open. Spinning around in fright, embarrassed to be caught in this ridiculous position, I find myself looking right at Nestor. He’s wearing black pants, a white shirt, and black suspenders, looking fine as all hell.

The top few buttons of his shirt are undone, and I can see the top of his skull tattoo on his chest. His sleeves are half-rolled, and his toned forearms flex as he shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Can I help you with that?” he asks, already walking towards me.

“Ok,” I say, turning my back to him, relieved to be able to hide my blushing cheeks.

He first brushes his fingers down my bare skin, from the top of my neck, just below my hair line, over my spine, to the base of my back just above my ass. Then slowly he pulls the zip up. His fingers brushing against my skin all over again.

Goosebumps break out over my body, and a warm shiver of delight runs through me.

I close my eyes, trying not to focus on him, but it’s impossible. My body is desperate for more, despite my logic arguing against it.

“There you are,” he says, placing his hands on my hips and turning me to face him. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and smiles; it’s so delicious it makes my heart pulse faster, rushing blood through my veins and making my head spin.

“You look gorgeous, Lara,” he says, his voice a little deeper than before.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“I’m ready when you are. Shall I wait downstairs?”

Where else does he want to wait?

“I’m just about ready, too. I’ll choose some shoes and then we can go.”

“Excellent,” he says, walking to my bed and sitting on the edge.

Oh. He’s going to stay and watch me.

Increasingly self-conscious, I hurry to the closet and grab two pairs of high heels, carrying them to the full-length mirror on the wall.

I slip one of each shoe onto each foot and look at the effect in the mirror.

“ The one with the tassels,” he says, his eyes locked onto me, slowly tracing up my legs.

I turn to face him, so he can see better. “You think so?”

“I do, they’re really cute.” He smiles, his eyes dark as they drift over me.

The idea of him thinking I look cute has my mind racing. Or is it the way he’s looking at me?

I kick off the other shoe and replace it with the black strappy heel with a tassel around the ankle.

“Perfect,” he says, standing up. “Shall we?” he gestures towards the bedroom door. I grab my purse with my phone and a lightweight jacket and let him walk me down the stairs to the front door, and out to the car.

He’s being such a gentleman, holding his arm out so that I can lean on him as I walk down the stairs, and gently placing his hand on my back as we leave the house.

He holds the car door open for me, and I can’t help the grin that touches my lips. “Thank you,” I say politely.

I watch out of the window as we drive around the city, and I keep expecting him to turn into the main vibrant area in the middle of the city, where all the popular restaurants are. But we seem to be getting further away from it.

Eventually, we’re out in a much quieter neighborhood filled with gorgeous houses, and he pulls up a long driveway.

The security guard at the gate waves and nods when he drives through.

I bite the inside of my cheek, nervous. This is someone’s house. That means we are meeting other people. Am I dressed well enough? What kind of dinner is this?

Doing my best to calm my thoughts, I push a smile onto my face as we walk up the steps towards the front door.

It opens before we get there, and an older woman steps out onto the front steps.

“Nestor, darling,” she says, spreading her arms to hug him.

“Mom.” He smiles and holds her tight.

Mom? Are you serious? I’m meeting his mother? Of all the possibilities, this is the least expected one.

“Mom, this is Lara, my wife.”

His mother does an excellent job of hiding the surprise on her face, but her voice does quaver a bit.

“Wife? Now, why in the world wasn’t your dear mother invited to the wedding?” she teases him, stepping towards me with her arms wide. I hug her, my entire body tense with nerves.

“Hello,” I say.

“This is my mother, Leticia.”

Leticia hugs me as though we’ve known each other for years, and it helps ease my anxiety.

She takes my hand and leads me inside.

“Your sister is going to give you an earful,” Leticia says, laughing.

“Ulyana is here?” Nestor says, his brows shooting up.

“I’m here.” A gorgeous girl, roughly the same age as me, walks boldly into the room and jumps into her brother’s arms. “Hey, idiot,” she laughs, hugging him.

“But I thought you went back to university?” he asks, confused.

“Yes, I was going to, but then I thought—maybe I just need a bit more time off.”

“Ulyana, that isn’t how it works,” Nestor says sternly.

“Oh, don’t you worry. I already lectured her,” Leticia says, shaking her head at her daughter.

Unfazed by either of their concerns, she walks over to me. “I’m Ulyana.”

“I’m Lara.”

“His wife,” Leticia says.

“Are you serious?” Ulyana doesn’t bother hiding any of her shock at all. “Since when?” she blurts out.

Nestor grins sheepishly. “Come on, let’s go get a drink and not hover in the entrance hall.”

He pushes his sister, and she rolls her eyes. “But I need all the details.”

Leticia and Nestor are deep in conversation, and Ulyana has pulled me aside near the bar in the living room.

“I can’t believe he got married without telling me.

And you’re absolutely stunning. Wow. Where did you get this dress?

Perfect shoes to pair it with. What do you do?

Where did you come from? How did all of this happen?

” She shoots a string of questions at me, and I stare, dumbfounded, unable to keep you.

She starts giggling and shakes her head. “Sorry. I get a bit overenthusiastic. I’m very excited to meet you. It was just the other day I was telling my brother he needed to meet a nice girl and start a family. Do you want children?”

“I do. One day.”

“I want five children. A whole house full of them. But not for a long time. There’s so much I still want to do.

Not that having kids stops you from doing things.

I guess I need to meet a man first, before I think about children.

But good men are a lot harder to come by than you might think. ” She winks at me, making me laugh.

“Here you go,” Ulyana says, handing me a blue gin and tonic.

I get a fright when Nestor unexpectedly arrives behind me and slips his arm around my waist, pulling my back against his chest. “Is my sister giving you a hard time?” he asks with a tender edge to his voice.

“No, she’s lovely,” I laugh.

“See, I’m lovely ,” Ulyana says, pulling a face at Nestor.

“Come on, everyone, dinner is ready,” Leticia calls out after the chef comes in to inform her that dinner can be served.

Nestor slips his hand into mine and threads his fingers through mine, leading me to the dining room. I’m taken aback by how affectionate he’s being, especially in front of his family, whom I haven’t even met until now. He’s so relaxed and gentle with me, it’s like I’m with a different man.

I’ve only seen the slightest glimmers of this person. This version of him.

“Are you doing okay?” he leans close and whispers in my ear halfway through dinner. It’s the second time he’s checked in with me to ask if I’m comfortable or if I need anything.

My heart warms towards him. I even find myself leaning into him when he talks to me, and he places his hand on my leg beneath the table, sending a wild thrill of desire through me.

Why can’t he be like this all of the time?

As soon as I think the words, my mind snaps into action, lecturing me on being careful. I can’t be getting soft like this. I don’t know anything about him; he kidnapped me.

Yet still, I’m really enjoying myself.

“Can I dish up some more for you, darling?” Letica asks, standing up and offering to take my plate.

“Oh, no, thank you, that was amazing.”

“Chef Bruno makes the best lamb shanks in the world. And I should know. I’ve been to many places.” She beams at me.

“Mom loves to travel,” Nestor explains.

“I hope to travel too one day,” I smile.

“Where have you been so far?” Ulyana asks.

“Oh, nowhere yet, but I want to go to Cambodia, to see those beautiful old temples in the jungle.”

“You haven’t been anywhere ?” she gasps in horror.

“Perhaps we can go there for our honeymoon.” Nestor’s eyes shine with mischief.

I grin but look down to hide it.

“Sorry, we’re late,” a loud voice booms into the dining room, and I look up to see two other people arriving.

“You’re past late,” Leticia smiles at the older man. “But you’re lucky there is still some food left, sit down.”

“Thanks, my love,” the older man says. “Who is this?”

I glance towards Nestor, sensing tension from him.

His face is scowling as he glares at the two men.

“This is Lara, my wife. Lara, this is Sergei, and his son, Miron.” Nestor gestures coldly towards both of them.

“I’m Nestor’s stepfather,” Sergei says, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Hello.” Miron nods, looking sour. He turns towards Nestor with a nasty expression on his face. “Wife? You snuck away and got married in secret? Were you too ashamed to get married in front of us?” he says coldly.

“It was an intimate affair, by invite only,” Nestor snaps.

“Mm. I can’t imagine I would have wanted to be there.” Miron sits down, his mouth pulled into a sneer.

“You would have been the last person on earth I’d invite,” Nestor growls beneath his breath.

I look to Leticia and Sergei, but they are chatting about something else and seem oblivious to this horrible tension.

Miron stands up again, slamming his fists on the table. “I’m not good enough for you? Is that what you’re saying? Your arrogance gets worse every time I see you, brother,” he snarls.

“Brother? Not in a million years, Miron. You are no family of mine.”

“Boys,” Leticia says, her face contorted with disappointment. “Please, we’ve spoken about this—"

Nestor stands up as well, leaning on the table and glaring at Miron. “This boy can’t keep his mouth closed long enough to show respect.”

“And you can’t—"

I stand up too, sensing how quickly this is going to get out of hand. “Nestor, I’m so sorry, are you able to take me home? I’m feeling a little lightheaded,“ I say, interrupting them, reaching out to touch Nestor’s arm.

He turns towards me, at first surprised, but then realizes that I’m perfectly fine.

“Of course, are you okay?” He presses the back of his hand against my forehead. “You are a little warm.”

“Is she okay?” Leticia asks, worried.

“She’ll be fine. I’ll get her home, and she can rest. Thank you so much for dinner, Mom.” He turns to his sister. “Go to uni. Stop messing about here,” he says sternly. She sticks her tongue out at him and winks at me.

In a flash, Nestor whisks me out of the house and back to the car.

Once we’re inside, he takes a deep breath.

“Are you alright?” I ask cautiously.