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“Wren,” he says in greeting. “What do you need?”
“Can I talk to you about something?”
He closes his laptop and gestures. “Take a seat.”
It feels like I’m meeting the dean of admissions at some fancy shmancy university. A very hot, very young dean. A very tall dean. A very brooding dean. I bet he’s the only man in the world who’d look sexy in a tweed blazer and elbow pads. If he had glasses and he tilted them down his nose to look at me like that, I might just sink to my?—
Concentrate!
I clear my throat. “There’s a concert coming up next week. Syrah and I bought tickets to this thing ages ago…”
He sits silently, waiting for me to continue. Goddamn him, he’s actually gonna make me ask.
Gritting my teeth, I power through. “I made a commitment to Syrah and I’ve been really looking forward to it. So… I would like to go.”
His face betrays nothing. “It’s not a good time for you to be out and about.”
“When is it going to be a good time?” I demand. “I can’t just be expected to sit here and stew until the baby’s born.”
“It might be the safest option for you.”
I take a deep breath, wondering if he was this protective of Elena, whoever she was. Or if failing to protect her is what led to his control issues now. Either way, it gives me the added boost of patience I need to get through this conversation. “Listen, I appreciate how protective you are of me and this baby—but it’s too much, Dmitri. I’m going crazy here. I need to get out. I need to dance and laugh and spend some time with my friend. I need to feel like myself again.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. When he opens his mouth, I cringe, bracing for a stern rejection. Here it comes in three, two, one…
“Okay.”
My jaw drops. “Okay? Okay, as in… I can go to the concert?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God! Thank?—”
“Hold on.” I scowl; I should have known there’d be strings attached. “You can go to the concert—but you’ll have an escort with you the entire time.”
“An… escort?” I remind myself that I came in here to make a compromise. It’s not a perfect solution, but it is a solution. “Fine. I’m okay with that. I pick Aleksandr.”
He blinks, showing an ounce of surprise for the first time since I walked in. “Aleksandr? My brother?”
“Do you not trust him?”
His eyes harden and I can only wonder what I just said to piss him off so much. By all accounts, he and his brother seem to have a good relationship. So why the hesitation?
“No. Aleksandr won’t be your escort,” he says so firmly that I know there will be no compromise here. “I will.”
28
WREN
IT’S CONCERT TIME.
I’m deliriously excited—not just because I’m getting out of the penthouse, but also because I get to spend some quality time with Syrah.
Of course, I’ll have my surly “escort” to deal with, but even the Prince of Darkness himself can’t dampen my mood.
Though he will certainly try.
My stomach has popped a little since I left the first trimester behind. Most days, I don’t mind, but tonight, I don’t want to look like a pregnant girl. I just want to let loose. I want to be free.
