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“Tell us about your visit to Deep Creek,” Joanne says.
Ricky holds up a finger. “I’m going to give the sauce a stir, but I’m listening.”
While he goes back to cooking, I tell them about the clinic and my mom’s progress, but I refrain from mentioning William for now. There’s no point in bringing him into the conversation unless their relationship, which is still in an early stage, lasts beyond the treatment center. I’ve learned my lesson with getting my hopes up too soon. My mom is a butterfly. Not many men hold her attention for long, and then there’s her illness. Like her ex-boyfriend Martin, most men bail when times get tough.
Too soon, Alex checks his watch. “I’m afraid we have to leave you. We’re about to have dinner, and we don’t want your lunch to get cold.”
More accurately, he wants to make sure we don’t stay on the call for too long. It’s one of his security rules.
“It was good to see you,” Joanne says, unfolding her leg from under her. “We’ll call you again soon.”
“I’d like that,” I say. “I want to know everything about your plans for the wedding.”
After saying our goodbyes, Alex ends the call.
He regards me solemnly for a heartbeat before saying, “I’m sorry you can’t be there for Joanne. I know you would’ve liked to help with the wedding arrangements.”
I sit with a stiff back, waiting for the real blow.
His tone is regretful. “It pains me to say this, Katyusha, but we may not be back in time for the wedding, not if they tie the knot soon.”
I turn my face to look at him. “You took me to see my mom for Christmas. I’m not asking to be there to help my best friend with her wedding preparations, but why can’t we attend her wedding?”
“If they decide to have a ceremony.”
“Hypothetically speaking then.”
He blows out a sigh. “I’m sure they’ll postpone the big day if you ask them to.”
I stare at him with parted lips. “Are you for real? I’m not going to ask Joanne and Ricky to postpone one of the most important days of their lives to accommodate me. How selfish do you think I am?”
A moment of silence passes as he studies me quietly before saying, “Suit yourself, but there will be no more traveling until the end of January.”
I jump to my feet. “The end of January? That’s more than a month away.”
He regards me with an expressionless face. “I’m aware of the timeline.”
“And when we get to the end of January, will it become the end of February?”
A muscle ticks in his temple. “It will be as long as it takes.”
I utter a laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
He gets up. “This is a difficult time for both of us. Don’t make it harder than it already is.”
Tears burn at the backs of my eyes, but I blink them away.
“If at all possible, you will be there.” He takes my hand. “There are things that need to happen first, things that will compromise our safety if I don’t deal with them first, and when I’ve taken care of them, we may have to lay low for a while.”
“That’s what you keep saying.”
Wrapping an arm around my waist, he pulls my body flush against his. I lean back, but not far enough to escape his lips. He slants them over mine in a searing kiss, sending an instant fire to my lower body.
I push on his shoulders, fighting for distance until he loosens his hold.
“Katerina,” he says, fixing me with a predatory stare.
“No, Alex.” I grip his wrist and remove his arm from around me. “This time, you don’t get to kiss yourself out of a fight.”
Not sparing him another glance, I walk out of the room, my heart aching—and not just because I might not be able to attend my best friend’s wedding.
30
Alex
I’m up early the following morning. I had trouble sleeping because my kiska is angry. She told me goodnight and let me kiss her, but the message came through clearly when she turned her back on me and went to sleep.
After blowing off some steam in the gym, I have a shower and inform Tima that I’m staying home and will be around for lunch. I instruct him to prepare something special for Katyusha, one of her favorite dishes, and then I go to my study to get some work done.
I’ve barely settled behind my desk when Igor raps on the open door.
“Enter,” I say, waving him inside.
“There’s been a development you should know about,” he says as he approaches my desk.
I give him my full attention.
He stops behind the visitor’s chair. “Stefanov has put a price on Besov’s head. Word has just been put out. The news is circulating in the bratva circles.”
“Interesting.” I rub a thumb over my lips. “What’s his reason?”
