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The song comes to an end, and I take advantage of the moment to make my escape. Dropping my hold rather abruptly, I give her a polite bow and leave her unceremoniously on the dance floor.
Rather than head back to Viktor, I head straight for the bathroom hallway to pull myself together.
9
ALINA
Ithought I was making headway with Mishka—until the song ended and he took off like a bullet from a gun. My stomach twists as an intense sense of rejection and abandonment washes through me, drowning my fleeting happiness. Fortunately, our hosts announce dinner before anyone sees how he left me hanging. I head back to my brother, trying my best to ignore the sting of Mishka’s snub once again.
I’m done trying. I don’t normally have to chase guys, and I can’t keep throwing myself at his feet. I’m just embarrassing myself at this point. Clearly, he doesn’t want me.
So, when Mishka rejoins us as we settle at the dinner table, I keep my attention on the guests around me and avoid him entirely. Putting on my best face, I chat up Captain Smirnoff and his wife, Leanna, who sit across from me. I rarely spend time with my father’s men, but tonight, I’m ready to put on my best show.
When dinner’s done, I accept the invitations of several men who ask if I’ll give them the honor of a dance. They’re perfectly delightful—and respectful, unlike the man who groped me last night. Their behavior is a jarring contrast to Mishka’s, though, and I wonder if that might not be what drives me to him. He’s the first person who doesn’t seem to want anything to do with me.
Well, I can accept that.
At least, I’m trying to.
Besides, after tonight, I probably won’t see him again for a long time because I rarely cross paths with my father’s men.
It’s a beautiful celebration with plenty of drinking and laughter—not that I touch a drop of alcohol after last night. I’m exhausted. My head is throbbing, and I’m more than ready for a quiet night in my dark room, snuggled up with my favorite pup.
Still, I can’t get Mishka out of my head.
And despite my determination to take the hint and get over him, I can’t stop my eyes from straying in his direction every now and again. He fills out that suit better than I ever could have dreamed, and the ice blue of his tie accentuates his beautiful eyes, making them look like a storm brewing over the sea.
I don’t mind the frown that seems permanently etched across his brow. It suits his surly attitude, and after spending more time with him, I find him less intimidating than on the day we met—even if he can be rather abrasive at times.
Toward others, he’s almost… gentlemanly. Like his temperament and his instincts are directly at war with each other. It’s confusing, and it makes him something of a mystery I would love to unravel.
But none of that is what I should be thinking about.
Because I need to forget about him.
So, despite how tired I am, despite the fact that I’m not in the mood to do much of anything tonight, I dance like there’s no tomorrow. I laugh extra hard. And I try my best to avoid Mishka entirely.
At the end of the night, we all trickle out of the Brooks Hunting Lodge and head toward the two black Escalades waiting to take us home.
“Viktor, join me for the ride home,” my father says, grasping my brother’s shoulder and guiding him toward the front car as he mixes up the seating arrangements at the last minute. “We have some business to discuss.”
“Sure,” Viktor agrees, swapping with one of my father’s men to join the first SUV. He gives me a friendly wink before vanishing into the dark interior of his new ride.
Stifling a groan, I try to hide my irritation as I break off to head toward the second car. The last thing I want to do is share a ride with Mishka and four of my father’s men who don’t speak to me. But it seems I have little choice. I know I wouldn’t be welcome in my father’s car if he and Viktor are talking business.
Maybe I can catch a nap to avoid the uncomfortably long ride with a man I’m trying my best to pretend doesn’t exist.
We pile into the second car, and though I’m sure he would much rather have ended up in the back seat once again, Mishka is given the spot directly next to me. As he steps into the car and closes the door, making it rock slightly, our eyes meet.
“You looked like you had fun tonight,” he says, filling the space beside me like my brother never has.
I can’t tell whether his observation is a subtle way to get me back for teasing him at the start of the night. Because he’s caught me in my own trap, throwing my words back in my face… or maybe he’s just trying to make polite conversation. I’m not sure.
“Well, I did dance plenty,” I say dryly. Which would mean I was having fun, based on what I told him while we were dancing.
But I’m not quite sure I could say I enjoyed the night.
If I’m perfectly honest, it felt closer to torture, even if everyone I spoke to was a delight.
