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He just smiles. “I like you, Taylor,” he says simply. “You’ve got that no-nonsenseje ne sais quoithat I’ve always appreciated in a woman.”
“Then you should hook up with Mila,” I half-joke. “That woman is the epitome of no-nonsense. Probably because of that giant stick she has up her ass.”
He snorts with laughter, which draws Mila’s attention. She’s standing across the pews, speaking to some guy in a full suit and dark shades. A member of the security detail, no doubt.
Dima irons out his grin and pretends like he wasn’t just laughing at a funeral. “Funny—she says the same thing about you.”
“I just lost my entire family in the span of a few hours. What’s her excuse?”
“Oh, she has a few tragic excuses of her own,” he says cryptically.
I want to ask about what he means, but she glances our way again and I decide to tuck that question away for later. I glance toward the other side of the church to see if I can spot her brother, but I’m pretty sure if he was here, I’d have seen him by now. Ilarion’s not the type of man who can go very long without being noticed.
“Neither one of you have to be here, you know.”
“I know. I—” He groans as his lashes flutter like he’s orgasming. “Oh, yeah…Finally hit that chocolate. Got there yet?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.” I fidget in place for a minute before I work up the courage to look at Dima again. “Can I ask you a question?”
“That’s one.”
I roll my eyes. “Can I ask you another question?”
“That’s another one.”
“Oh, for God’s sake—I’m trying to ask who you are.”
“Who am I?” he parrots.
“Yeah, like…” I wave a hand around. “In all this. Who are you to Ilarion?”
“His right hand man, of course,” he answers. “And the token eye candy, obviously. I’m sure you guessed that part, though.”
“So you’ve known him a long time?”
“Since we were nineteen.” He scrunches his face in thought. “So…nine years now. Shit. I’m old.”
I ignore his joking. The man is constitutionally incapable of being serious. “And do you believe he loves my sister?”
I’m watching close enough that I don’t miss the way he stiffens when I pose the question. From across the church, Mila is firing questioning glances our way like she can sense us wandering into dangerous territory, but Dima doesn’t notice.
“I mean, he asked her to marry him. I think love is implied.”
“You would think,” I agree dourly. “But something Mila said the other day got me thinking. She believes that her brother doesn’t do anything without a reason. She also believes that he doesn’t let emotion get in the way of his decisions.”
Dima doesn’t say anything. I think he’s starting to realize just how thin the ice beneath our feet is.
“A man like that would never marry impulsively. And an engagement after only two months… Seems out of character for him, wouldn’t you say?”
Dima shrugs. “If you believeWinnie the Pooh,love is the kind of thing that makes you do things out of character,” he says. “And Ilarion doesn’t like to be predictable.”
I shake my head. I know a runaround when I hear it. “Do you think I’m an idiot, Dima?” I ask. It’s blunt, maybe even a little rude.
But so is trying to sidestep the obvious.
He arches his brow, but there’s an amused smile underneath his surprise. “No, Taylor. Less and less so with every passing second.”
I nod. “Good. I understand why you’re willing to lie for Ilarion. I appreciate loyalty. You’re protecting your family. Just remember—that’s exactly what I’m doing for mine.”
