He pressed his hand over my fingers. When his eyes touched mine, his lips lifted in a soft smile that expanded and surrounded me.
My heart fluttered around my whole chest, battering my breath.
God, this man was blindingly beautiful when he smiled, when it was a real smile instead of that sarcastic tilt of his mouth. He was smiling, glowingly and truly, right then, at me.
And he said, looking right at me, “And this year will be a nice interlude in my life.”
An interlude.
I was an interlude.
My fluttering heart crushed into a paper ball inside my chest anddropped.
I needed to remember that I was a temporary interlude.
Konstantin hung his head in his hands, his shoulders weaving back and forth. “So, that’s it? You’re married to this woman now? This—this—stranger?”
“Yes, and the official story is that we met two years ago in Verona, Italy. Lexi was backpacking through Europe during a gap year in college. We met at a museum and then ran into each other again at a violin concert in a park that night. We’ve been secretly dating ever since and are madly in love.”
“That’s specific,” I muttered. “What was my major?”
“What do you want your major to be?” he asked me.
Yeah, I went with the only thing I could think of. “Theatre?”
Konstantin snorted.
“Theatre, it is.” Nicolai swiveled back to Kostya. “And then, when John announced his party week in Las Vegas, I called her to meet me here and tie the knot because I am utterly besotted. And by that, I mean I amembarrassinglybesotted. You will stick to that story, and that will be the only story,toabsolutelyeveryone.Understand?”
“Yeah,” Konstantin said. “Sure. You married some commoner off the street?—”
Nicolai stood, sliding his hand off mine. “Kostya, that’senough.”
“—and I’m supposed to behave like everything’sperfectlyrespectable,definitelyon the up-and-up.”
“Youwilltreat her with respect, and you willstickto the official story.I mean it.”
His low tone was rich with menace.
If Nicolai had spoken to me like that, I would’ve nodded vigorously and done anything he told me to while I sweated through my clothes, and not in a good way.
Where was a table I could crawl under?
Konstantin scrubbed his face with his palms and raised his head. “Are you taking her to John’s bachelor party tonight?”
“Oh, I’m sure I don’t need to go to a bachelor party,” I piped up. “I know the cool girls are supposed to watch the strippers and pretend they’re bi for a night, but I’m just not into that. Not that there’s anything wrong with dancing on tables for money because it’s work, you know. They’re just making a living. But it seems weird to sit there while you guys are objectifying other women and just generally being gross. I’m not quite that much of a pick-me.”
I had no idea whether I was standing up for feminism or just being a prude.
Konstantin rolled his eyes and flipped one hand in the air like I was being ridiculous, but I wasn’t. I didn’t want to go to a strip club.
Nicolai rotated on the bed so that he was facing me a little more. His voice was gentle, not like he was explaining something obvious to the stupid girl. “The party is not at a strip club. It’s a reception in the private VIP area at the Omnia nightclub. Cocktail dresses or formals for women, suits for men. I assure you that everyone will remain decently clothed.”
“Oh.” Now I felt like a rube. “I suppose that’s okay. But I don’t have a cocktail dress or a formal to wear. You can go. I’ll stay here. I can find a book or something to read.”
Nicolai looked back at his brother. “Is Clementine in town yet?”
Konstantin was still rubbing his face like he was trying to get something sticky off his cheeks. “Yeah, she texted me three days ago, saying she was going clubbing here without me because I was still in Boston.”
