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I don’t understand all of the rules and rituals of Roman’s world, but I understand the concept of danger. And these men, all of them milling around the room, reek of it. If Yefim finds out our engagement has all been a complete sham, it wouldn’t just be me that would be in danger with the repercussions, but all of Roman’s family. His father back home in Russia could face retribution.
As we pass Zakhar, I shoot him a heated glare. He started all of this, after all with getting so damn grabby at the club. Thankfully, he’s not looking at me, so I’m more than comfortable shooting a few darts his way with my stare.
“Ah, Roman!” Yefim greets us as we get closer. “I was just talking about you and your beautiful fiancée!” He pushes through the small crowd around him toward me with his hands outstretched. Roman steps in front of me at the last second and offers his hand. Yefim diverts his actions easily and shakes Roman’s hand. He says something to Roman in Russian, and it strikes me how intense their stare is. Neither man seems to dare look away.
“This must be Willie. Roman, she’s beautiful.” A blonde woman steps up beside Yefim. Her beauty sweeps away my breath, I nearly miss the fact she’s called me by the wrong name.
“Billie. Her name is Billie.” Roman steps back to my side. “Billie, this is Anastasia, Mr. Kozlov’s daughter.”
Anastasia smiles brilliantly at me while grabbing me by the shoulders.
“It is so good to meet you. Forgive me for getting your name wrong.” She places a chaste kiss to my left cheek, then my right, and one more on my left. The sweet smell of her perfume envelops me.
“It’s all right,” I say, swallowing hard to coat my dry throat. Her hair is coiled in a perfect twist. Diamonds hang in a straight line from her earlobes that match the princess-cut diamond-encrusted necklace resting against her collarbone. It’s the perfect piece to draw the eye down the plunging V-neckline of her deep red sheath gown. The material hugs her as though it were made specifically for her; not a bit of her curves is overstated or underappreciated.
I run my hand over my stomach. The dress Roman bought for me is gorgeous, but compared to Anastasia, I feel like a little girl playing dress-up.
“I am so glad you both could come tonight.” She keeps her smile warm while addressing us both. Her Russian accent is evident but subtle.
“Of course.” I smile back. “Oh, have you met Mandy and Maxim?” I gesture toward Mandy standing beside me. Anastasia glances over at them, and her smile falters for a split second before she recovers.
“You work for Roman?” she asks Maxim. There is no physical greeting for him, or even acknowledgment for Mandy.
“I do.” Maxim’s voice is hard when he answers. It’s like a brick wall that he will erect around Mandy to keep her safe.
Anastasia’s smile falls into a thin line. “Nice to meet you,” she says then turns abruptly to her father. She leans into his ear and whispers something. Between the music from the band playing and Roman keeping me from stepping closer, I can’t understand any of it.
Her father nods, then she turns her smile to Roman. “I hope to see you later. Dinner will be served soon and there will be dancing later. Maybe we can have a dance?” She tilts her head slightly. Is she trying to seduce him?
My chest twists. I don’t like this. No, fuck that, I hate this. She’s a woman, a full woman. All curves and beauty and grown up. And then there’s me. I sleep with a stuffed animal, wear cotton pajamas, and watch princess movies more often than not. He should be with a woman like her, not a weirdo like me.
“I’m not sure how long we’ll be staying, but I will be sure to say goodbye before we leave,” Roman says, keeping his hand around mine, as though he’s anchoring me to him.
“I hope so. My father wanted to throw a huge party, and with that comes all the people to speak with. You’ll excuse me for now?”
“I had hoped it would be a different sort of party, but…” Yefim shrugs and lets the implication slide off into silence.
“Don’t start.” She laughs. “I’ll see you soon.” Anastasia places her hand on Roman’s arm as she walks around him and off into the crowd.
Yefim says something in Russian with a laugh, but it makes Roman stiffen. When he responds, Yefim’s laughter dies.
“I meant no insult,” Yefim says in English with a quick glance at me. “I am happy to congratulate you on your engagement.” He nods in my direction. “If you’ll excuse me, I see a nephew that I need to speak with.”
Once he’s gone, Roman turns to face me. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks, but I think he can already see into my mind.
I start to shake my head, but he grabs my chin and pushes my head back. “I wouldn’t lie to me right now,malyshka.”
“Oh, the baby didn’t like that lobster puff,” Mandy moans from behind me. “Maxim, I need to use the washroom.”
“This way.” He escorts her toward the door.
“Tell me, Billie. What is it?” Roman releases my chin.
“That’s the woman you were supposed to marry?” I point to where Anastasia is talking with a small group of women.
“My father wanted me to marry her, yes.”
I frown.
