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Elvira gives me tips on sights to visit. I let her talk, not telling her I probably won’t be able to visit any of the museums or ballets she recommends. Alex is still talking to the men, but he keeps a point of contact between us with his hand on my knee. The touch is both reassuring and possessive.
When Elvira stops talking to take a sip of water, Alex leans over and whispers in my ear, “Not too bored yet?”
I turn my face toward him. Like always, I’m hyper-aware of his presence. The smell of his spicy cologne and the electrifying touch of his fingers on my knee overpower my senses. It’s impossible to stare into his eyes and not drown in those vivid blue pools. His lips quirk as his eyes crinkle in the corners. He knows the effect he has on me. With a single look, he renders me defenseless. The attraction between us is as strong as the first day we met. If I weren’t so level-headed, I would say running into each other on that day was fate. But that would mean that Igor had been shot for the sole purpose of bringing Alex and me together. Ironically, it would mean that the very reason we’re here in St. Petersburg and in this horrifying situation—the fact that someone is trying to kill Alex—is what’s responsible for driving us into each other’s arms. In some way, I’d have to be grateful to Alex’s hunter. If not for him, we never would’ve met.
“Good evening,” a polished female voice says.
I look over at the guests who have arrived at our table and freeze. Dania and her father, Mikhail, stand on the opposite side. My spine goes stiff as I recall my conversation with Dania at the cocktail party in New York, when she told me she was destined to marry Alex.
Dania and Mikhail do the rounds to say their hellos. Dressed in a white gown with a flowing skirt, Dania looks like a Disney princess. Her black hair forms a stunning contrast with her blue eyes and pale skin. Her makeup is light and youthful, giving her an innocent look. Virginal, almost. Classically beautiful. She looks like perfect marriage material, and from the way the men in the room are staring at her, she’s undeniably desirable too. Is this what Lena was trying to tell me? That I haven’t dressed the part? That I have no idea what I’m up against or how to fight the subtle war for a man’s attention?
I steal a look at Alex while Mikhail shakes his hand. At least he’s not gawking at Dania like the other gentlemen.
“I’m so glad we’re at your table,” Dania says when it’s our turn to exchange a greeting. “I was looking forward to seeing you when I heard you were in St. Petersburg.”
To my dismay, she takes the empty seat next to me. Mikhail installs himself in the available spot on Alex’s right.
“How are you, Dania, darling?” Feba asks with affection. She’s speaking English, no doubt for my benefit. “It’s been ages.”
Dania waves a hand. “I’ve been traveling nonstop. You know how Papa’s business takes us around the world.”
“I hope you’ll pay us a visit now that you’re home,” Feba says.
“We should organize a lunch,” Dania says. “Women only.” She winks. “I could do with a break from the company of businessmen.”
“I didn’t know you were so involved in your father’s business,” Elvira says with a tinge of disdain. “How’s your mother?”
Dania meets Elvira’s gaze head-on. “You know how Mama is. Unfortunately, always intoxicated.” To me, she says, “In case you haven’t heard the gossip yet, my mother is an alcoholic and not seen in public much.”
That shuts Elvira up. The men are still engrossed in their conversation. Mikhail doesn’t show any signs of overhearing what has been said.
“To answer your question about my involvement in the business, Elvira,” Dania says sweetly, “as you know, I’m the only child. One day, I’ll take over.”
“More likely, your future husband will,” Elvira says.
“How about meeting up at Chekhov’s next week?” Dania asks, looking around the table. “They have a new chef and the reviews are outstanding.” She turns in her seat to face me. “Kate, you have to come. I can introduce you to some friends who’ll help you pass the time while Alex spends all those long hours at the office. Everyone knows what a workaholic he is. If you enjoy the opera and ballet, you must join me at my monthly culture club.”
“That will be marvelous,” Feba says. “I know you young people prefer the nightclubs, but if you’d care to spend a couple of evenings in an old lady’s company, I’d love to introduce you to some of my artist friends. They make for the most entertaining company.”
