“A glass of water for me,” Mikhail said.“Clarice, you’ll have a glass of white wine?”
“Yes, please,” Clarice said.
The woman’s mouth firmed, and for fleeting seconds, she looked as if she’d tasted a sour lemon.“Of course,” she said.“I won’t be long.”
“What’s going on?”Mikhail asked Clarice in an undertone.
“Nothing,” Clarice said, flipping her hair and tugging at her dress.
Mikhail’s instincts prickled.“You were going to introduce me to your friends.”
“They’re not here yet,” she said.
Mikhail’s eyebrows rose in surprise.“You don’t know any of the people here?”
“N-no.”
Her diffident manner alerted Mikhail further.“Why are we here if these are strangers?That’s not the impression you gave me earlier.You implored me to come, dragging me away from something important.”
“What?”Clarice said, her blue eyes narrowing in more typical behavior for her.
“A family matter,” Mikhail said smoothly, not wanting to place a target on Edwina’s back.An unidentified trespasser had already tried to shoot her, and his grandfather was the only one he’d told about his marriage, apart from his two trusted friends.He was right to harbor suspicions because someone was spying on him.
“Here are your drinks,” their hostess said, a silent male server bearing a tray with two glasses.
“Thank you.”Mikhail handed the glass of wine to Clarice, who accepted it and took a healthy sip.When she’d finished, only half of the wine remained, and her right hand curled around the stem of the glass so tightly Mikhail feared she’d break it.He took his glass of water but didn’t drink any.
Mikhail studied the guests and found many watching him and Clarice with varying expressions.He glanced at his watch.Another half an hour, and he’d leave with an apologetic excuse.He’d much rather spend time with his fascinating new wife and was hungry to discover more about her.Then there was the soul-deep urge to touch her, hold her, make sweet love to her.Cover her with his scent.
His mouth twisted.Caveman, much?
Several of the guests seemed familiar, but whenever he and Clarice drifted closer to them, the men directed their wives or partners to different clusters of guests.Despite the naturalness of the mingling, Mikhail’s suspicions grew.
“Is your drink not to your liking?”Clarice asked.
“It’s fine.”Everything about this meeting shouted odd and peculiar, and Mikhail trusted his instincts.
They told him not to eat or drink here, so he intended to follow his intuition.
“You don’t want to appear rude,” Clarice muttered in a low voice.She seemed jumpy and constantly blinked.
“I’d like some fresh air,” Mikhail said.
“No.”Clarice balked, her face growing pale.
“Tell me what is going on,” Mikhail snapped, grinding his teeth instead of shaking her.
Her gaze slid from his.“Nothing.This is merely dinner with friends.”
“Which would make sense normally, but you don’t know these people.”
The sound of new arrivals had Mikhail snapping to attention.The man and woman standing with their hostess weren’t familiar, but they studied him as if he were a fascinating specimen.His phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket.
“Boss, it’s Berto.Not sure what is happening, but they’ve posted dozens of guards.We should leave.”The tension in his driver’s voice prodded Mikhail into action.
“I’ll come straightaway.”
He stuffed his phone in his pocket and turned to Clarice.“I must leave now.Would you like to come with me or stay with your friends?”
