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Konstantin comesto pick me up in a steel-gray, four door Mercedes. He tosses my small suitcase into its roomy trunk. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a button up shirt he is more casual, but no less devastating. When he turns those hot eyes my way I feel my heartbeat quicken and I remember the fire between us, his hands on me, his lips on mine, and his long, lean body pressing into myown.
He installs me in the passenger side, gets into the driver’s seat, and off wego.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Iask.
A small smile plays on his lips as the guarded eyes turn to me. “What is your definition of a surprise?”
“Everything is a mystery with you,” I say, only half-joking.
The little smile goes, and his face becomes expressionless. “What do youmean?”
“You never talk about yourself. Ever. I’ll admit mysterious men are kinda sexy, but it would be nice to know a little bit more aboutyou.”
“What would you like toknow?”
“Just give me something. Anything. Even a simple thing about your family.”
His expression stays motionless.
“You said you have siblings. How many? Where do they live? What do they do for a living?” I stop myself from going any further. I want to know everything about him, but aiming rapid fire questions at him might be a good way to send him running for cover.
He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, or react to my questions, but the temperature drops in the car. A definite chill settles in the air as he answers in a voice completely devoid of emotion. “I had two brothers. They died. Many yearsago.”
Oh God! Trust me to go and put my big foot into it. Both his brothers died? Must have been some kind of tragedy. Is that why he is so withdrawn and reserved? I knew there must be some terrible things buried deep in his past to explain the don’t-come-any-closer air he gives off. I know a little about tragedy myself. I closed off too after Octavia died. Of course, I couldn’t turn off completely, not with Janna to take careof.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to bring up something so painful.”
The light playfulness of a few minutes ago has completely disappeared, and it’s all my fault for prying. Why couldn’t I have left good enough alone? Still, can anyone blame me for wanting to know more about a man I’m fallingfor?
Suddenly he reaches out and squeezes my leg. “No need to apologize. It’s hardly your fault. It happened a very long time ago. Let’s just enjoy the weekend, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree readily.
“What else would you like to know?” heasks.
“Whatever you want to tell me,” I say cautiously.
He purses his lips, which I’ve learned is his way of swallowing a smile. “I’ve told you everything you need to know. If you feel you need more you’ll have to askme.”
I chew at my lower lip. I have a hundred questions, a thousand questions, but now I’m afraid to ask them, afraid that I could unearth more painful events from his past. I don’t want to risk stumbling into another landmine.
I go for the safe option. “How old areyou?”
“I am thirty-two.”
“Okay. Good to know. What kinds of things do you enjoy?”
“What I enjoy? I enjoy fucking you a great deal.” His deep voice purrs the words.
“Are you doing that on purpose?” I burst out, cheeks tingling. How easily he can send me sprawling into embarrassment.
He glances at me and smiles. “Doingwhat?”
“You make me … all hot and bothered. And you do it really well,” I say tartly.
He gives a low chuckle. “The feeling is mutual.”
“It is? I can’t imagine anyone making you feel hot and bothered.”
The lights are red and he turns to me, his face dead serious. “You’ll be surprised how hot and bothered you make mefeel.”
I stare at him in astonishment. For a few seconds I can’t look away from his face, then he smiles tightly and proceeds to properly answer my original question. “I enjoy good food, fine wines, books, beautiful cars, and … beautiful women.”
The last part pierces the soft place around my heart. Just how many beautiful women has he taken away for a weekend? The surge of jealousy surprises me. I’ve let this go way too fast in such a short amount oftime.
My voice is sharp and sarcastic. “Is that what you have listed on your tinder profile? Konstantin, thirty-two, enjoys fine dining, cars, and beautiful women.”
He laughs. “I don’t have a tinder account.”
“This is exactly what I mean. I know next to nothing aboutyou.”
“Why the rush, little Raven? You have the whole weekend to get to know me.” His eyes slide down to my mouth.
“Yes,” I say, breathless for no apparent reason. Sometimes, he just sucks the air out of theroom.
“We’ll arrive shortly.”
We were still in the middle of the city. “I thought we were goingaway?”
“Weare.”
Bathed in the luxurious scent of his aftershave, I lean my head back on the headrest and watch the changing view go by my window. I’m not going to ask anything else. It’s a surprise. We come to a stop outside an office block.
“Why are we stopping here?” I ask curiously.
“Come on,” he says and gets out of the car. He takes the bags out of the trunk and we go into the building. He nods to the receptionist who throws him a dazzling smile. It is not so bright by the time it reachesme.
“Do you work here or something?”
“Nope,” he says leading me to thelift.
“This is all very mysterious,” I comment.
He grins, but says nothing.
The lift rises to the very top floor, the doors whoosh open and we are on the rooftop.
