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Oh my God.
He didn’t know my name. He never said his name was Sergey. He also didn’t answer a single question about his own life.
I drop down into my chair. At some point during all the excitement, our waitress must have brought out our food. Two steaming bowls of beef stew are on the table. It does look delicious, but I suddenly feel nauseous.
Kayla didn’t set me up on the best date of my life—she set me up with a drunk asshole who showed up an hour late and expected me to still be there waiting for him. He grabbed me like he owned me.
He grabbed me like Benjy used to.
He was going to haul me off to some dark corner of the restaurant until the man who didn’t have to ask me to sit down at his table stopped him. Until the man I don’t know at all protected me.
Confusion and gratitude are still swirling in my stomach when he walks back into the restaurant alone, no sign of drunken Sergey.
I can’t take my eyes off of his shoulders as he navigates tables and servers to get to me. People are staring at him, but he is looking right at me.
Now that I’ve seen what my night could have been, he’s even more handsome. Incredibly, the fact that he’s also a liar hasn’t touched the sizzle of chemistry I’ve felt between us all night. I’m still drawn to him.
Without a word, he settles back into his seat, grabs his drink, and takes a sip. His throat bobs. His finger taps absently against the condensation gathering on the side of the glass.
He’s a man in complete and utter control of himself.
Meanwhile, I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin.
Before I can stop myself, I jump out of my chair. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Not Sergey.” He looks up at me, amusement sparking in his amber eyes. “But I can see you’ve already figured that out.”
5
YAKOV
“Do you think this is funny?” Luna fixes me with her bright blue eyes.
I suppress a laugh. Sergey didn’t deserve her. What he deserved was a public beatdown, but he was so drunk that it wouldn’t have been any fun. There’s no satisfaction in fighting someone who can’t fight back. No matter how much the sloppy bastard deserved to have his head knocked in for a bit.
But Luna knows how to fight. She’s fiery.
I like it.
“Sit down.” I pull out her chair and pat the seat. “Let’s keep talking.”
She’s uncomfortable with people looking at us, but they’ve been looking all night; she just didn’t notice. No member of the Kulikov family can’t be in here without word spreading and whispers being exchanged. My father made it well known that this was his turf. It’s a small miracle no one walked over to our table and gave away my identity before Sergey stumbled in.
Luna sits down, but she crosses her arms stubbornly over her chest. “You mean, ‘Let’s keep lying.’ That’s what you’ve been doing all night.”
“I didn’t lie.”
Her mouth falls open. “You’re kidding.”
“I didn’t do that, either.”
“You told me your name was Sergey!”
“No, you thought my name was Sergey. I didn’t tell you anything.”
“But you let me believe it!” she hisses. “You let me throw myself at a complete stranger.”
I can’t stop the smile that curves across my mouth. “Were you throwing yourself at me, Luna?”
