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“I’m going to hang up and video call you.”
The line goes dead, and a moment later my phone vibrates again.
“Crap!” I dart off the bed and quickly look at my reflection in the mirror.
Ugh, my hair looks like something died in it.
I quickly tie the strands in a ponytail, then answer the call. Armani appears on my screen in all his handsomeness.
A smile spreads over his face. “That’s better.”
I walk back to my bed and sit down while I give him an awkward smile. “How are you?”
“Good, now that I get to see you.”
I know I’m inexperienced, but that sounds a lot like flirting.
Unable to think of a single thing to say, I just stare at him.
“Are you always this quiet?” he asks.
“I’m sorry. Communicating isn’t one of my strong points.”
He lets out a chuckle, and I watch as he gets comfortable on his bed. “You don’t have to apologize.”
Dear God. He looks hot.
“So, what have you been up to this week?” he asks.
As much as I want to stare at his handsome face and listen to his voice, I can’t forget that he sees me as a child.
I also have to get ready for another date with Karlin.
“You don’t have to do this, Armani.”
“What? Call you?” He tilts his head, and it feels like his eyes are trying to pierce into my soul. “Is something wrong?”
Everything.
Not wanting a war because I couldn’t deal with my own shit, I shake my head. “No. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit your best friend’s little sister.”
A frown forms on Armani’s forehead. “Turn your head to the right,” he orders, his tone no longer polite but biting.
My eyebrows draw together as I carry out his instruction.
“What’s the mark on your jaw near your ear?”
Shit.
I quickly untie my hair and let it fall over my ears. “It’s nothing. I…ahh…bumped the side of my head against a cupboard door in the kitchen the other day.” My heart is pounding in my chest. “I told you I’m clumsy.”
Armani stares at me for an intense moment before his features soften again.
Jesus, what was that? He went from polite gentleman to death incarnated in a split second.
Tell him the truth.
No. The last thing I want is to start a war between the bratva and the mafia.
“I’m sorry you got hurt.”
The words, along with the genuine compassion on his face, take a swing at my heart. Suddenly I don’t feel as alone anymore, and it makes emotion flood my chest.
So what if he thinks I’m a child? Having someone who cares about my well-being is rare, and I’m going to appreciate it for what it is.
“Thank you, Armani. It means a lot to hear that from you.”
A gentle smile tugs at his lips, making me wish I could crawl through the screen to be with him.
“You look sad.”
Damn, he’s perceptive.
“I’m just tired,” I lie. “I baked a ton of cupcakes for the local orphanage.”
And I have a date with a monster later tonight.
A stunning smile spreads over Armani’s face. “So that’s why you smell like vanilla cupcakes. I hope I’ll get to taste one soon.”
“If I ever see you in person again, I’ll bake you a dozen.”
“You make it sound like ever means never.”
I shrug. “We live in different countries. The odds of us crossing paths on the street is slim to none.”
“I’ll have to see what I can do about those odds,” he jokes.
I stare at Armani for a moment wishing with all my heart he was the one I was marrying.
“Thanks for the call,” I say, the loneliness settling heavy around me again. “I appreciate it.”
“I’m only a call away, piccola,” he murmurs. “Get some rest and watch out for the kitchen cupboards.”
“I will.”
When the call ends, I keep staring at the phone, wishing with all my heart it could magically transport me to St. Monarchs.
Or Bora Bora.
Anywhere but here.
Expecting Karlin to take me to another grimy restaurant or strip show, I wear a pair of jeans, a sweater, and comfortable boots.
The man isn’t interested in me as a woman, so there’s no use in me dressing up for him.
Thank God he isn’t interested in me. I guess I have to be thankful for every miracle coming my way. I can’t even bring myself to be offended.
Letting out a sigh, I leave the bedroom with thirty minutes to spare. There’s no way I’m giving the man the opportunity to abuse me because he decided to come early.
When I walk into the foyer, Mr. Aslanhov comes out of the kitchen with a cup of tea.
His eyes sweep over me then he frowns. “You could’ve made more effort with your clothes.”
“I’m sure Karlin doesn’t care what I wear. I told you he said the marriage will only be on paper.”
Mr. Aslanhov’s frown deepens. “That’s unacceptable. If a marriage isn’t consummated, it isn’t a marriage in my eyes. Go back to your room and change your clothes.”
