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Chapter One
“My god,” Varushka whispered as she watched the man walk up the path.
Wearing jeans and a modern T-shirt, he looked every part the American world-traveler his Baba Nina had told her he was.
No, not a man. With a head full of tousled black hair, dark gleaming eyes, and the most handsome face she’d ever seen, she wondered if he even qualified as human. The lean muscles of his chest and biceps led her eyes downward to his strong, tattooed forearms.
The man was like a dangerous demon sent by Satan to give women impure thoughts.
He might even be the devil himself.
“He’s handsome,” Antonia mused. It was possibly the stupidest thing her cousin had ever said.
Varushka turned to her. “Handsome? He’s more than handsome. He’s . . .” The words that came to mind sounded too forbidden to say out loud. Dangerous. Wicked. Those weren’t attributes suitable for a gentleman.
Yet a full shiver crept down her spine.
“Your future husband,” her cousin finished.
“Maybe future husband.”
She snorted. “You’d be a stupid girl not to make it work. Filthy rich, and he looks like that?”
Varushka waved a dismissive hand. “Shush. You’ve given me your opinion already.” The knots in her belly twisted as he reached the door. “Now, be quiet. He’s here.”
Antonia gave her a mischievous smile. “Just remember what I said to—”
The door opened, interrupting them. Varushka backed away from the window and clasped her hands behind her back. No need for him to know what a busybody she was—though it was usually Antonia’s fault. She used to get them in trouble all the time as children with her impishness.
Konstantin could very well be her future husband and she had to work hard to impress him. Under his grandmother’s judgmental eye and with Antonia’s big mouth, it would be difficult.
Nina shuffled in just in time for Konstantin to walk through the door. “Kostya!” She grabbed his face and kissed both cheeks, greeting him like she would a small child, despite him towering over her.
He smiled, seeming to enjoy the attention, or at least tolerate it. “Baba, you look well.”
After they hugged, he turned and looked at Varushka. Dark eyes matched dark hair that swooped across his forehead. For some reason, her cheeks grew hot under his gaze.
She bit down on her lip. He looked her over as if he were assessing livestock to purchase, and for some reason that made her feel warm down below. Did he find her lacking? It was hard to imagine measuring up to American girls. She’d worn her finest dress for dinner tonight, but the plain cotton didn’t seem good enough now. It was clear he had expensive taste. Even his leather shoes looked costly. Her mother had let her borrow her best jewelry, but the dangly gold earrings and bangle bracelets didn’t make her feel any more grown up. In fact, they kept getting in the way. Decorating oneself was so impractical.
Despite the way Konstantin seemed to size her up, he smiled warmly.
Nina gestured to her. “This is Varushka!” It sounded like an announcement, and she felt as though she was expected to do a song and dance or something.
Anything would have been better than standing there, gawking like an empty-headed jackass.
He gave her a curt nod, then stuck his hands in his pockets. He seemed as uncomfortable as she felt. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said in Russian. “Baba has told me so much about you.”
She cleared her throat and found her voice. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
At least he spoke his native language. He’d moved to America when he was small, so she’d been worried he’d force her to speak English. Though she’d been practicing, she wasn’t confident yet and didn’t want to sound stupid.
Baba Nina walked to her side then fussed with Varushka’s hair, pulling it over one shoulder with her rough hands. “Isn’t she a pretty thing?”
She felt her cheeks flame bright red, which always looked bad with her red hair.
Konstantin met her gaze, pierced her with narrowed eyes. Something seemed to pass between them—a spark that shot through her, making her skin prickle. “Very.”
Could this get any more embarrassing?
“Those big blue eyes are always full of kindness, too,” Baba Nina continued, oblivious to how awkward it was for her to be listening to the sales pitch. “She’s small, but she works hard and is stronger than she looks. Very smart. She likes to laugh. You need to laugh more, Kostya, so I thought she would be good for you.”
Antonia giggled.
Varushka had forgotten she was there. Konstantin looked at her inquisitively.
“I’m sorry. How rude of me.” Varushka took Antonia’s hand, glad to change the subject. “This is my cousin, Antonia.”
“That’s a lovely name,” he said, nodding to her. “And it’s sweet of you to come here with Varushka, to keep her company.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Antonia nudged her teasingly.
Varushka fought the urge to give her cousin a pinch.
“Sorry I took so long getting here,” he said. “My flight was delayed in New York.”
“You’re forgiven. You’re in time for dinner at least.” Nina took his arm and towed him into the kitchen. “Come, girls. I cooked a chicken for the occasion.”
They sat at the table. Nina, ever the wily one, arranged it so Konstantin and Varushka sat side by side. They sipped thei
r drinks for a moment, waiting for the buzzer to signal the bread was ready.
“I hear you like to cook,” Konstantin said, leveling his dark gaze at her.
“Yes. I learned many recipes from my mama.” Varushka ducked her head.
With her gaze downcast, again she noticed the heavy black tattoos on his forearms. Together, in Cyrillic, his arms bore the saying “Good brotherhood is the best wealth.” He had brothers? Hadn’t Nina said he was an only child?
“Nothing that compares to your American food, of course.”
