“I have to say, your text last night piqued my interest.” Andrés flashes a dazzling white smile at me and winks again.
Okay, I’ll admit, it sends butterflies fluttering through my stomach.
My dating history is a virtual blank slate. It’s just…never taken priority. I suppose part of it is the way I was raised: Pavel Nikitin’s perfect, poised, princess of daughter, kept in a glass cage up on a golden pedestal. Throw in a hugely overprotective tattooed giant of a big brother, not to mention all the hours ballet demands of you, and dating or sex just never had a prominent place in my life.
It’s not that I’veneverdated or had zero experience. I mean, I’m twenty-three. It’s just that my experience has been…limited.
Severely.
I’ve had all of one past relationship: Ethan, and we went on a handful of dates four years ago.
Nothing really happened. I mean, he was nice and sweet enough, and he understood that I wanted to go slow. But after a few weeks of menotsleeping with him, it just seemed to fizzle out.
Shocker.
“So.” Andrés winks at me again. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
You know the saying:If at first you don’t succeed,try, try again.
I need to try, try again.
Just because Vaughn shot me down in terrifying fashion, it doesn’t mean anything has changed for my dad in Moscow. He can’t always talk on the phone, because he’s sure both the government and a bunch of high-powered bratva families are tapping his communications, but I can tell the situation’s not good.
Roman, obviously, isn’t going to do anything about that. And now Vaughn has also made his thoughts on the subject abundantly clear.
But again, Andrés isn’t just a pretty face. He’s the heir apparent to one of the most powerful underworld families on the planet. So tonight, I’m meeting with him to plead my case.
Before I can respond, Andrés grins as he glances down, his eyes sweeping over me. “You look positively gorgeous tonight, I might add.”
Heat floods my face.
I’m not blind. I see the way men look at me. I mean, not like they look at Milena with her runway model legs, or Brooklyn with her artsy, cool-girl vibe. But guysdolook at me.
Including Andrés.
So, yes, although I’m meeting him tonight after my class to ask his family to take my father under protection, it doesn’t mean I haven’t…dressed for the male gaze, at least a little.
Instead of my usual post-dance hoodie and yoga pants, I'm in a cute pink skirt, pink flats, and a lighter white-pink mohair sweater.
What? I like pink.
A lot.
My hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, my makeup on point. I even used the extra smoky eyeshadow that Milena got me.
It’s not like I’m trying toseduceAndrés—if I even knew how. But since this is a business meeting of sorts, the goal was to look my best.
Andrés seems to have noticed.
“Thank you,” I stammer awkwardly, blushing like a goofball as I smile at him.
“Of course.” He smiles back before his brow furrows. “Would you like to talk here, or…?”
I swallow. “Maybe somewhere more private,” I venture. “It’s…sensitive.”
He nods, his brow still pinched with concern. “Of course. Come. I’m parked over here. I’ll drive us somewhere we can talk without prying ears.”
Relief floods through me. “Thank you, Andrés.”
