So, when the airport staff speaks to me, I jump at the chance to practice.
"Your luggage, ma'am."
"Thank you!" I say with a huge smile.
"This way, ma'am."
"Thank you!" Again, like I've just won an award.
Tessa is doing the same thing, except she is holding up her signs every time someone speaks to her.
"Do you need assistance?" She holds up her "THANK YOU" sign. The staff member looks confused but nods politely. I am dying laughing by the time we get to baggage claim. Then someone asks Ilay in English, "Do you have any other bags, sir?" And to my complete shock, he answers. In perfect, fluent, American-accented English.
"Yes, just the suitcase in the back." I blink at him. That voice. His Russian voice is all gravel and dominance, the kind that makes your spine straighten and your stomach twist. But his English voice? It is like a whole different person is speaking.
"You speak English?" I ask, still stunned.
He glances at me, amused. "We didn't need it in Russia." Then he leans closer, his voice playful. "But if you like my English voice... I can use it more. Especially in the bedroom. Just say the word, baby." I swear, my soul leaves my body. If I were in an anime, black lines would be scribbled all over my face. I just turn away, mumbling something like, "I regret asking."
Tessa, who has been eavesdropping, bursts out laughing. "Oh my God, he's smooth in English too? That's not fair." Ilay chuckles. And with that, we get into the car, headed toward the inn we are staying at.
America, here we go. By the time we get to the inn, I am already mentally checked out. The drive has been quiet, with tension thick in the air between Ilay and me. His bodyguards have peeled off earlier, heading to another location, leaving only one of them behind, who doubled as the driver, since this is the only decent place close enough to that hidden ranch in the forest.
It looks more like a forgotten cabin than an actual inn, nestled in the middle of nowhere. Cozy, but rundown.
Ilay eyes the building with pure disgust. "Is this the best one here?" he mutters, wrinkling his nose. "We're really staying in this?"
I shoot him a look. "I'm sorry, Your majesty. But yes, this is the closest option to the ranch. Believe me, I'm not thrilled either."
He sighs, rubbing his jaw. "Fine."
Tessa, naturally, is thrilled. "This is so rustic! It's like the beginning of a slasher film."
"Please stop talking," I mutter.
As we approach the entrance, a car pulls up, and a tall man with ginger hair steps out. He looks lost but weirdly adorable, clutching a suitcase.
He spots us and smiles. "Excuse me, is this the Sweet Forest Inn?"
I open my mouth, but Ilay beats me to it with a grunt. "Yes."
"Oh, thank God," the guy laughs. "Thought I was gonna get lost out here."
The way Ilay looks at him? Whew. If looks could kill, that man would have dropped dead on the gravel. But to my surprise, the stranger doesn't even flinch. He just keeps his eyes on us, talking kindly, smiling.
Then his eyes land on Tessa.
Tessa notices immediately. She crosses her arms, giving him the deadliest side-eye I have ever seen. "What?"
The guy blinks, flustered. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to---"
"Then look away," she snaps in broken English.
He clears his throat, awkwardly holding the door open. "Ladies first."
I smile back. "Thank you." Tessa walks in without acknowledging him, still giving him side-eye.
Inside, a friendly-looking woman at the counter greets us. "Welcome to Sweet Forest Inn. What kind of room would you like?"
