Page 53 of Broken Promises
A soft knock on the bedroom door halts my attempt to zip-up a white halter dress. There was no reason to pack a dress for freezing-cold Moscow, but I did, just in case.
What a great choice that was...
I’ve been gifted a free-access pass to my dream come true. The last thing I expected to find in the basement of Anatolij’s fourteen-century castle is a ballroom, but it’s there. Modernized like the rest of the imposing structure, and mine to use when I please. I plan on spending a couple of hours down there every morning to help the time pass quicker.
“Come in.” I stand in front of a long mirror, twisting my arm back to reach the zipper.
Julij enters the room in a white shirt, with two buttons popped at the top. It goes well with his baby-blue jacket and beige trousers. “I need to get going. My flight leaves in two hours.”
I’ve dreaded this moment since we landed. Despite feeling welcome here, unease jabs my mind at the prospect of being left here alone, without Julij. He wants to go back to Chicago, adamant that Dante needs his help, but I’m not dumb. I know the unsaid truth. Dante doesn’t want Julij here alone with me.
He crosses the room and grips my arm to twirl me around. “I’m not thrilled about leaving you here alone with Anatolij.” His fingertips brush against the skin on my lower back when he reaches for the zipper. “Don’t be naïve, Layla. You’re a guest here, and you’re safe but don’t get too close to anyone.”
He sounds like Frank and Dante. They both accused me of naivety on more than one occasion. Now, Julij joins the pack. His condescending tone drives me mad. If only he knew how hard I try to draw a line that separates Layla, who thought of herself as nothing more than Frank Harston’s daughter, from Layla, who realized thereismore.
“Don’t beat around the bush, Julij. If you want to say something, say it. What have I done wrong this time?”
He slides his calloused hands down my arms, slowly, gently, before he cuffs me half an inch above my elbows and tugs, pulling me in, my back to his chest, our eyes locked in the mirror. “Nothing, sugar. You did nothing wrong, but I am worried about you being here alone.”
He wraps one arm over my chest, eyes scrutinizing our reflection as if memorizing how we look together. It’s a pretty picture, a striking contrast of complexion, height, and hair color. Julij can’t deny his heritage. There’s not one particularly noticeable feature that betrays his heritage, but high cheekbones, a heavy brow ridge, and a pointy chin clue you into his Slavic descent. Especially when coupled with his height and slim but broad build.
“You’re beautiful, you know that sugar?” he whispers. His warm breath fans my neck, introducing a wave of goosebumps. “I remember the first time I saw you in Dubai. You wore a see-through beach dress over a yellow bikini.”
The memory brings a smile to my face despite Julij’s awful attitude at first. I remember the first day in Dubai as if it was yesterday. Maybe because I was in pain throughout the evening. We arrived early in the morning, and once the sun came out, I resigned myself to a lounger by the pool. Five hours later, I woke up from an unintentional nap... my back burned bright red by then. I considered my sunbathing time to be over at that point.
Nikolaj arrived with his family later in the afternoon, and Julij’s mother healed my sunburn with two tubs of natural yogurt. The idea seemed abstract at the time, but it worked. Two days later, I was sunbathing again, covered in SPF30.
“I’ve liked you since the moment you introduced yourself. I didn’t like feeling that way. I thought I was too young to want more than sex from a girl, but I couldn’t shake those feelings, and—”
“And you acted like an ass for two weeks,” I cut in, uncomfortable with where this conversation is heading.
The fondness in Julij’s voice and how he holds me tightly in his arms is too intimate. Too close. There’s too much awe in his eyes and in the tone of his voice. I hope the forced smile masks my embarrassment well when I wriggle out of Julij’s embrace.
His shoulders sag, but he shifts his weight from one foot to another, standing tall again. “You spend a lot of time with Anatolij, Layla. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m glad you two get along. Just don’t let him pull the wool over your eyes. I’m pretty sure he wants to sleep with you.”
“Excuse me?”
I’ve spent every evening with Anatolij, engrossed in a polite conversation. He never once paid me a compliment or looked at me suggestively. He’s hospitable and well-behaved. Nothing more. Anatolij or the fact we get along isn’t the problem. Julij’s vivid imagination and jealousy are. What I pegged for an innocent crush evolved into unwanted feelings. I pray he’ll stop acting so infatuated in front of Dante, or else our friendship, if I can still call it that, won’t last another week.
“How could you think I’d cheat on Dante?” I fume, the unspoken accusation like a slap across my face. “You’re ridiculous. Where is this even coming from? I know I’m not ugly, and you could say I’m nice sometimes, although that’d be slander, but not every guy is out to sleep with me!”
Julij squeezes the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply. “I didn’t say you’d do it. I said he’d do you if he got the chance.”
“No! No, he wouldn’t. You would. That’s why you see a rival in everyone. News flash,” I point to the ring on my finger, “I’m engaged! Neither you nor anyone other than Dante will ever touch me.”
Julij grinds his teeth, pinning me down with his freezing-blue stare. “He’s all you know. He’s the first man in your life, Layla, but he doesn’t have to be the last. You’ve no idea if he’s the one because—”
“You’re playing with fire, Julij, and you will get burned.”
“Too little too late for that.” He turns on his heel but turns back halfway to the door, reaching for my hand. His hot lips touch my forehead, and a tight embrace follows. “Stay safe, sugar. It’ll all be over soon.”
Then, he leaves, and my anger leaves too. I can’t stay mad at him for long. The heart doesn’t choose… it feels. Julij’s heart feels what it never should. Not for me.
My heart feels for Dante more than it can handle. A long list of all the reasons why I shouldn’t have let myself fall in love with him didn’t mean a thing almost from the very start. My heart knew better.
Who am I to hold Julij’s feelings against him? There’s not much he can do about them.
I finish getting ready, pull my hair up in a ponytail and leave the room. Julij’s voice echoes through the long, empty corridors as I descend the stairs. My name on his lips stops me dead in my tracks. I shouldn’t, but I hide around the corner. They stand in the hallway outside the dining room, Julij with a travel bag in hand, Anatolij with the morning paper by his side, an impassive look on his face.
