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“You know this woman?” Zakhar keeps to Russian with his question.
“Ja,” I answer, keeping my eyes on him. If I move them, if I see his hand on her arm, I’m going to rip his arm from his body.
“Who is she?” Yefim asks.
“She says she’s his fiancée,” Zakhar says with disgust. I do move my eyes now; I check in with Billie. Guilt is written plainly in her eyes.
“Is this true?” Yefim’s dream of a marriage between our families vanishes in a heartbeat.
“She tells you she’s my fiancée and you think the best thing to do is manhandle her?” I shoot a pointed look at his hand.
As though he’s just realized he’s still gripping her, he lets go and takes a step back. Even in the dimness of the room I can see his handprint on her creamy skin.
“It’s true?” Yefim stands up from the table.
I wait until Billie brings her eyes to mine before I answer in English so she can understand my words.
“Yes. This is Billie Waters, my fiancée.”
She sweeps the room with her gaze, taking in the men sitting around the table, the man standing at the other end, obviously annoyed. Her fingers start to fidget at her side, and she swallows hard.
“Come here.” I hold out my hand for her. Without hesitation she hurries to my side, slipping her hand into mine. I wrap my fingers around hers and hold her firmly.
“Your father said nothing about you being engaged,” Yefim blusters. Obviously, my father put the idea in his head that I’d jump at the chance to marry his daughter. Funny how he left that bit of news out when we talked last.
“It’s new. I haven’t had a chance to speak with my father,” I explain.
“She’s not wearing a ring.” Zakhar points at her.
“It was too big. It’s at the jeweler being sized,” Billie says before I can respond. I squeeze her hand signaling for her to stay out of this. She doesn’t know these men; she won’t know how to navigate them if they find this entire thing insulting.
“My mother’s ring.” I settle my glare on Zakhar. “How did you come to find her?”
He turns his stare on his uncle. “I was offering to buy her a drink.”
“And that led to you putting your hands on my fiancée?” I demand.
“It’s all right, Roman.” Billie tugs on my hand. “It was a misunderstanding, that’s all.” She’s being diplomatic here.
I lean down to her ear and speak softly so only she can hear me. “Go into the next room and wait for me. I’ll only be a few minutes. Do not try to leave,malyshka.”
She searches my face, probably hoping that she’ll find some wiggle room with my demand, but there’s none. She’s really stepped into it now, and I’m not letting her get out of this. She has no idea yet, but she’s sealed her fate with her little deception.
“Maxim, take Billie into the next room and get her something to drink.” I notice the dress she’s wearing, and my jaw clenches. It’s not the most provocative, but it’s still too short and that deep neckline is too tempting. “And get her coat from the coat check downstairs. We’ll be leaving soon.”
“Oh, I don’t have a coat,” she says innocently, as though it’s totally all right for her to be out in this cold weather with no damn coat and that flimsy dress. “And Giselle is downstairs. My friend.”
“Maxim will make sure she gets home safe.” I look pointedly at Maxim.
“Right through here,” Maxim says, gesturing for her to follow him to the adjoining room.
“Go.” I release her hand, and she follows Maxim.
Once the door shuts, I turn my attention back to Zakhar. “When she turned down your advances, you put your hands on her.” I take a step in his direction. “Is that what happened?”
“Like she said, it was a misunderstanding, that’s all.” He holds my stare for a long beat before turning his eyes toward his uncle, his savior.
“He meant no harm.” Yefim moves to his nephew’s side. “If your father had told me of your engagement, it wouldn’t have happened.”
