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“Too bad, but who says you can’t have a bit of fun while you’re here? I can show you around the city, if you’d like.”

“That’s not necessary. I wouldn’t want to put you out of your way.”

“Actually, we⁠—”

“Claudia—” I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “I know Yelena’s trying to set us up. Truth is, a week ago I would have taken up your offer without hesitation.”

“But you’ve already found someone,” she said.

“Yes.”

She heaved a sigh and rocked back in her chair. “The good ones are always taken, so I’m not surprised.”

I smiled. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m not good at all. You’re actually a lucky woman that I’ve set my sights elsewhere.”

“Yuriy, Claudia!” Yelena waved us over. “Join us.”

“Of course.” Claudia stood, tugging down her top. “You don’t have to look like you’re betraying the person you love. It’s just a dance. Truly, I understand already finding your person, and besides, it’s kind of freeing not to have to flirt for the rest of the night.”

I remembered Stas’s growl.

Don’t be too polite.

I’m not jealous. I’m possessive.

But refusing would only make me seem rude. She was already standing, and she was no longer hitting on me. What harm could a dance do?

“Okay.” I rose to my feet. “Just a brief dance.”

Claudia and I moved over into the clearing a couple of feet away from my brother and his wife, her resting a hand on my shoulder. I placed mine politely at her waist—nothing suggestive, nothing inviting—but Yelena watched with wide, hopeful eyes.

We started moving. Small steps, soft music. All of it was innocent.

I hadn’t danced much in my life and was no expert at it, but I knew enough to woo women in the past. The moves came in handy. Claudia was a natural, but instead of showing me up, she allowed me to lead without criticism. If not for the man upstairs, she would have been perfect for a night or two.

“This person you’re involved with,” she said softly. “She must be a special woman.”

“A special man.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “You’re really bisexual? I thought you said that to throw me off.”

“I never make jokes about my sexuality. It’s too important to who I am.”

“And you’re sure I can’t tempt you away from this man, or maybe he’d be up to sharing you?”

A laugh echoed out of me. Stas? Share? Not likely to happen.

The hairs on the back of my neck lifted. The temperature in the room changed, just a fraction, just enough that my instincts sharpened. I turned my head toward the entrance, my laugh cutting off.

Stas.

He stood in the archway, one hand braced against the wood, jaw clenched, his eyes locked on where Claudia’s hand rested on my shoulder. His gaze slid downward—slowly, deliberately—to where my palm touched her waist.

Then back up.

Murder.

Not metaphorical.