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“Good. I’m taking Emilia and her best friend out to dinner tomorrow night. We’re celebrating her graduation. Join us then. I have a reservation at Salsa at six. We can have her sign the papers then,” Niko suggests.
I can't tell by his stoic mask if this is good or bad. The slight crack of a smile in his usually somber face tells me he’s looking forward to seeing Emilia. The truth is, he would do just about anything that woman asked of him. I doubt she knows that and it’s probably a good thing.
“I hate Salsa. It’s a damn tourist trap, not a restaurant,” I tell him, frowning.
“It is, but it’s where Emilia wants to go, and she gets what she wants.”
“One day, you will have to admit that you care for your charge.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Niko says with a grimace, making us both chuckle.
“Eventually, you may even have to admit that you don’t have a heart of ice,” I warn as I get up with the folder. Niko’s grunt of denial follows me out.
I smile, hoping Emilia manages to break through my friend’s cold exterior one day and gives him happiness.
Chapter2
Zoe
“Can you sit still?”I ask my best friend as I’m finger combing the curls I just put into Emilia’s long, dark hair. We already worked on her makeup, not that she needed a lot. A little lip gloss and mascara for her since she’s naturally pretty. She needed me to help with her hair. She’s so nervous that her hands refuse to stop shaking.
“I can’t. I’m a mess. I don’t want to do this. I’d rather spend the entire night with my annoying cousins or creepy Dante than go to dinner with Niko tonight,” Emilia whines, panic laced in her words. I know her nerves have built up all day. They’re so bad now that she can’t hide them anymore.
I smirk at her, trying to lighten the mood. “Is that why you’re making me join you?” I ask, leaning down so that we’re side by side in the reflection of her mirror. She gives me a sheepish smile.
“Yes! I need you. I never know what to say around Niko. My brain cells just die, and words refuse to come out—at least ones that make sense.
“Oh, my Lord! You better learn how to talk to the man. You’re going to be married to him in less than a year. You’ll have to be alone with him at some point, you know,” I tease her, wiggling my eyebrows. She reads the unspoken innuendo, blushing furiously as it sinks in.
“It’s not like I have a say in anything. He didn’t even ask me to marry him. My father showed me the contract one day, and it took me a year to even meet Niko after that. We have the occasional dinner and talk at business luncheons or parties, but that’s it. I have no idea why he signed the contract to marry me. I assume it’s to climb the ladder in the family. I’m so tired of the family,” Emilia says with a scowl. “Other than my father and Dante, I don’t think any of my family likes me.”
“I doubt that’s it. Niko doesn’t seem that type,” I argue. “If that was a reason he would actually get married, he’d go after someone like Alexandra. Her father has a little more power than yours, right?”
“I wish he had,” Emilia mutters as I fluff a few wayward curls. Something in her voice tells me that’s not true. I know my friend well enough to know that while the circumstances aren’t great, she feels something for him.
“Girl, you are crazy. Niko is hot as hell, and I know you think he’s sexy.”
“Scary is more like it,” Emilia grumbles.
I laugh. “Keep holding onto that. I think you know thatI knowyou’re lying. I’ve seen how you look at him, and it’s clear to anyone around you that you’re attracted to him.”
“He is hot. Everyone is attracted to him if they have a pulse—man or woman. That’s not a reason to marry someone, though.”
“People have gotten married for far less,” I add. “You don’t see how lucky you are. If someone told me that I could marry a man like Niko Petrova…” I whistle and fan myself getting a laugh out of her.
“You take my place then,” Emilia says with a pointed look.
“Come on now. With my pale skin and freckles all over, there’s no way he’d take me. My red hair is so curly the humidity makes me look like a damn poodle.”
“Stop it. You’re beautiful,” Emilia says, turning in her chair to look at me.
“C’mon, Emmie. We both know I’m not.”
“I’m serious. You’re gorgeous.”
“I can’t hold a candle to you.”
“I don’t think so. I mean, I know I look good. That isn’t all I am, though. Sometimes beauty is all others see, and the person gets lost,” Emilia says, looking at me sadly. “Niko agreed to marry me, but he doesn’t even know me. He just wants a trophy on his arm—the daughter of the great Maxwell Korslova.”
