“Sometimes. When a day was exceptionally… brutal.” I take a big gulp of my vodka. Her sharp midnight eyes watch me, examining my tight jaw.
“I’m sure there’s a lot of those,” she offers.
“There are.”
“How do you make them go away?” Her voice is that thin rasp again.
“I… got used to them, I suppose,” I say honestly, surprising myself. “They come back sometimes in full, technicolor glory. Something will remind you and you will see it again, just as vividly as when it happened.”
“This is not cheering me up, if that was your goal,” she says gloomily, finishing her tea.
“I’ll remind you - again - that you were well on your way to saving yourself that night,Malen'kaya soroka.Will that free you from the nightmares? Maybe not. But you remember it every fucking time you wake up, yes? You got yourself out of that apartment.”
“Dmitri?”
“Hm?”
“Why do you call me Little Magpie?” she asks.
“You’re… clever,” I say slowly. “Your bright eyes, darting around, noticing everything. How you collect bits and pieces of knowledge. Those colorful little rocks on the windowsill in your bedroom. Where did you find those, anyway?”
“The terrace,” she says. “They were in that insanely elaborate ornamental stream you’ve got running around the penthouse. They were…” Ava starts laughing. “They were shiny.”
“Malen'kaya soroka,”I nod. “Come now, you need some sleep.” Settling her back in bed, I pull the thick comforter over her. I’m about to rise when I see she’s got a handful of my shirt. I don’t know if she’s aware she’s holding it. “Do you want me to sit with you until you fall asleep?”
The instant gratitude in her eyes undoes me.
“Close your eyes, love.”
And she does, her breathing evens out quickly, but her slim fingers grip my shirt for a long time.
The next day…
I'm just pulling on my tuxedo jacket when I hear a whistle behind me.
“Look atyou,”Ava says, clapping a little. “You are wearing the hell out of that tux.” When I turn around, though, it's clear the most heart stopping sight in my five thousand square foot penthouse is Ava. She's in a dark blue dress with a modest neckline, but the back sweeps down nearly her ass. Two little dimples wink just above her pert ass and I find myself wanting to run my tongue over them. The dress has a long slit up the front and she's wearing jewelry, simple diamond earrings that my mother had sent over along with a sapphire choker that hides the burns on her throat.
“You, Miss Blue, are breathtaking,” I say, taking her hand and kissing it slowly. I've noticed that when Ava blushes, she flushes bright pink, her chest, her neck, her face… and it's hot as fuck.
“Oh, you smooth talker,” she says, looking a little flustered and straightening her dress. “Am I going to look acceptable? I'm assuming everybody else at this wedding is going to be in your tax bracket?”
“Trust me. You'll outshine every woman there. I have to leave now,” I say, checking my watch. “My mother and Roman will be here soon to take you. I will come over and be as attentive to you as much as I'm allowed during this monstrosity.” She gives me a sympathetic grin. “I amdeeplysorry I agreed to be Adam’s best man."
Ava laughs. “I know, right? Such a thankless task.”
The elevator opens, Mother striding into the penthouse, carrying her own garment bag with a hairstylist and a makeup artist following her like baby ducks. “Oh,” she says, disappointed. “I was hoping we could get ready together.”
“Please don't make me take off this dress and start over again,” Ava begs, laughing. “It took me a half an hour to wrestle myself into it. I looked like a cow being swallowed by a python. If your hairstylist wants to try something new on me, though, I'm game.”
“I leave you in excellent hands,” I say, kissing her hand again and then brushing my lips over my mother's cheek, the left side, the right, then the left again as Russian custom demands. “I'll see you there. I'll be the one looking like he's praying for a hurricane or an earthquake to get us all out of this evening.”
Chapter Fifteen
In which Ava Meets The Family. They all approve.
Ava…
Once the elevator door closes, I realize Dr. Morozova has brought her own mini army. Four bodyguards spread out behind her, all of them looking like they very much wish they could sweep the apartment.
