Page 16 of Anton

“And for you?”

“I’m fine.” His face is blank. Cold.

Why the hell does that make me want him more? Seriously, was I dropped on my head as a child?

She taps on the screen in front of her, and when she peers back at me, there’s that look again, like she knows I’m lying about who he really is.

But there’s nothing here. He really is no one.

I shake my head, signaling for her to drop it. Her mouth presses, but I can see the smile fighting its way through.

“It’ll be right up.”

I linger near the counter, painfully aware of Anton waiting behind me while I pretend not to notice how close he is.

When Nadia returns with my drink, she flicks her eyes toward him and silently mouths, He’s so hot.

Heat rushes to my cheeks as I snatch the cup from her before she can embarrass me any further and turn toward the table. Anton follows close enough that I can feel him at my back, his hand near enough to touch me again.

But this time, he doesn’t. He pulls out my chair, and the gesture catches me off guard.

“Thank you.” I glance at him with a small smile before settling down.

By the time he takes the seat across from me, the silence between us stretches, while he studies me all over again.

My fingers trace the edge of the table as I try to fill it. “How’s your dog? Volchok?”

A muscle in his jaw pops. “He misses you. Asks about you all the time.”

I roll my eyes, shaking my head with a grin. “Nice one.”

“What?” That full mouth quirks up. “A pretty girl like you? He couldn’t help himself.”

“You think I’m pretty?” I narrow my eyes playfully.

“I didn’t say I did.”

“Right.” My lips purse. “Your dog.”

“That’s right.” Amusement warms his eyes, making it clear he’s enjoying this far too much.

“Well…maybe I can see him sometime.”

The humor instantly drains from his expression. “Doubt that.”

“Why not?”

He takes his time answering, his gaze traveling over my face. Needing a distraction, I reach for my coffee and take a drink. His hand crosses the table, and when his fingers close around my free one, the contact burns itself into my skin, making it impossible to focus on anything else. His thumb drags along my palm, and as he leans in, my skin pebbles from the rush of warmth his touch leaves behind.

“I told you I’m not looking for friends.”

My pulse stumbles, but I don’t pull away. Instead, I lift one shoulder, pretending his touch isn’t affecting me as much as it is.

“I have a feeling you’ll change your mind.”

His hold is firm around me as a sardonic laugh passes through him. “Why? You think you’re that irresistible?”

I hold his stare, refusing to back down. “That’s right, I am.”