“You don’t know my mother. I told her I was coming alone. She’s going to be hopping mad that I kept you a secret.”
“Maybe you didn’t know I would come. Perhaps I surprised you after telling you I would not be free tonight.”
“That could work. But she’s going to ask a thousand questions.”
“So we answer them.” Sacha glanced around the entrance hall, taking in the glamour, breathing the scent of inherited money. “A truth can be stretched.”
Jonah inhaled a breath that was shakier than his cool exterior.
Sacha didn’t care. He didn’t know this man—only intrigue had lured him this far—but he put his hands on Jonah Gray all the same. One hand, at least, at the base of his spine. “Do not worry. If the questions are too much, I will pretend I don’t understand.”
“Your English is flawless.”
Sacha snorted. “You are too kind. My words flow only when I’m in a good mood. My accent thickens when I’m not. I drop words and make myself sound stupid, which irritates me as it is stupid people who put me in bad moods.”
“So now I know your tells if you’re upset. Noted.”
“You think you could upset me?”
Jonah appraised Sacha with his wide, emerald gaze. “I don’t think so. You have hard edges.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. I can’t tell what you’re thinking.”
“We just met.”
“Shh.”
“Oh yes, I forget.” Sacha guided Jonah closer to him and brought his lips low enough to barely brush Jonah’s ear. “How well are we supposed to know each other? How long?”
“To bring you here?” Jonah murmured. “More than twenty minutes. And they’ll expect us to be more than friends. I have plenty of those I could’ve brought tonight.”
“You have no friends with benefits?”
“No.”
Sacha smiled to himself, though he couldn’t say why. “You promised me champagne.”
“I did. We have a gauntlet to run first, though, unless you’ve changed your mind. The fire escape is to your left.”
“I haven’t changed my mind. Where is this gauntlet?”
“Heading straight for us.”
Sacha glanced up in time to see a regal couple fast approaching them. The man was as tall as Jonah, but with sandy hair, not red. He had the same wide eyes, though, and strong jaw. And he moved the same too, with the quiet confidence that came with more privilege than most people could ever dream about.
Jonah’s mother carried the auburn hair gene. Hers was long and swept up in an elegant twist at the nape of her neck. She wore a long green dress that complimented her husband’s eyes, and pearls collared her throat. “Jonah,” she called. “There you are. You’re late.”
“I’m sorry.” Jonah winced as he leaned forwards to greet his mother with a kiss to each cheek. “We had some lift trouble at the office.”
“The office?” Jonah’s mother cast a curious glance to Sacha, clearly absorbing the possessive hand on her son’s back. “Is this…a friend from work?”
Tension rippled through Jonah.He is not a good liar, Sacha surmised. That pleased him too. And stirred him to take the heat for his cringing companion. He reached for Jonah’s mother’s hand and clasped it firmly, the way Russian women liked. “We met at work, yes. Our offices are in the same building. I am Sacha Ivanov. I am very pleased to meet you.”
Jonah’s mother glowed. “And I you. I’m Jonah’s mother, Eleanor. This is my husband, Ralph.”
Sacha shook Jonah’s father’s hand too, then stood back in the hope that he’d gifted Jonah enough time to gather himself.
