Page 38 of The Bratva's Innocent Forbidden Bride
The feel of soft fabric settling over me woke me up, and Kon stood above me in shadow, wrapped in one of the poolhouse robes. “You had goosebumps,” he said, straightening another thick cotton robe around me.
The sun was now below the level of the buildings, casting a dark, rosy glow around them. “How long was I asleep?”
“Just the right amount of time,” he said, motioning to a man in a white jacket setting up a table where the massage beds had been.
The man lit the tall candle in the middle of the table, cracked open a bottle of champagne, and lifted the lids off oftwo silver serving trays, before bowing his way out of the rooftop garden like Kon and me were royalty.
“Bratva king,” I muttered.
“It has its perks,” he admitted, holding out his hand.
I shrugged on the robe now that the air was cooler and followed him to the intimate table for two. Any minute now, there would be stars sparkling in the sky. Was he trying to be romantic?
A perfectly grilled steak, mashed potatoes loaded with butter and cheese, and a crisp, cold salad made my stomach rumble as I sat down.
“This and the sunshine are two good reasons I’d want to stay here,” I said. “These Americans know how to cook a steak.”
“Come now, we do fine in Russia,” he said mildly, digging in with a distinct lack of patriotism for his own country. “But, yeah, this is better.”
As we ate, we still kept dodging any sensitive subjects, which was getting more and more difficult. But I had to admit he was doing a good job of showing me a good time.
“It’s not over yet,” he told me after I confessed.
And sure enough, when the white-coated waiter returned with ice cream and brownies that had to have been made by an angel, a quartet of musicians filed past us to set up their instruments.
“I guessed you’d prefer classical over something loud and brash,” he said. “Was I right, or should I toss these guys over the side and get a different group?”
It shouldn’t have, but it made me laugh. “I love classical,” I said, and not only to save the musicians’ lives. I loved a good cello concerto while I worked on a difficult tapestry.
“Me too,” he said.
“No, you’re completely rock and roll.”
Kon shook his head. “What makes you say that?”
“Oh, let’s see. The chaos, the jumping from venture to venture, the—”
“Hey, now,” he said, holding up his hands. “That’s work. In my own time, I’m nothing but zen.” I laughed some more, and he stood. “Dance with me, Tati.”
For some reason, the command didn’t make me prickle. I wanted to dance with him, however wrong that might have been. This was too nice of a day to ruin, not when the stars were finally out and shining down on us.
Barefoot and wrapped in robes, we swayed to the soft music of the string quartet, and when he pulled me close to his chest, I let my cheek rest there, breathing in the scent of the pool that clung to his skin.
This was nice. I didn’t want to ruin it.
So I did anyway. “If you can afford all this so easily, why are you so angry about the missing money?” I asked.
He stiffened. “Because the money didn’t just go missing.”
“Papa didn’t take it,” I insisted, shoving away from him.
Instead of letting me go, he jerked me back. “That may be so. But I have to know for sure.”
“Or you could trust him. You know, your oldest friend?”
He shook his head, eyes dark. “I once thought I could trust the love of my life. But it wasn’t love at all. She did nothing but betray me and try to drag me down, all while I was trusting her.”
“Sofiya’s mom?” I asked, unable to make myself call that mysterious woman his wife.
