“It’s not funny.”
“Irina is on a plane back to Romania. I sent her away.”
“Why would you do that?”
“She’s not my type.”
“Tall, blonde and drop dead gorgeous isn’t your type?” I say sarcastically with a huff before I take another drink. “What is your type then, Dimitri, because I’dloveto know?” I find myself asking.
“Oh, about five-foot three,” he starts.
“That’s funny, because that’s how tall I am,” I mutter, amazed at the coincidence.
“And I like long, dark hair.”
I glance at him and find his blue eyes locked on mine.
“And green eyes.”
“That’s very specific,” I barely manage to squeak out.
“I didn’t have a type before I met you,” he admits.
I tear my gaze away and inhale sharply. God, this night is not going how I planned. I was supposed to lock away my feelings for Dimitri and avoid him at all costs. And now, here he is, and everything is going back to the way it was. I lose my head when I’m around him. Every time he speaks, it’s like he’s putting me under some kind of spell.
“What’s your type, Savina?” he asks.
“Uh, blond, brown eyes, short, no tattoos,” I say quickly.
“So…the complete opposite of me?” he asks with a smirk.
“Mmm-hmm,” I say with an emphatic nod.
“I call bullshit,” he says with a dark chuckle that has my core tightening.
“It’s not bullshit. That’s just my type,” I lie with a shrug.
“I think you drank too much tonight, because you’re obviously delirious,” he says crossly.
I stare at Dimitri and cock my head.Is he upset that I didn’t say he was my type?Oh my god, I think he is.That makes me giggle, and it pisses him off even further. “I’m sorry you’re just not my type,” I say before putting my hand over my mouth to cover up a laugh.
His blue eyes pin me against the bar. He’s actually upsetwith me. I’ve never seen Dimitri this…vulnerable before. He’s always so cocksure and broody.
“You know, you can just leave,” I tell him. “You don’t have to stay and babysit me.”
“Oh, yes, I do. All I need is for someone to spike your drink again,” he growls out, clearly agitated.
I’m about to ask him what he means by that, but then Finn, the bartender from earlier, chooses that moment to approach us. “Is everything okay over here, birthday girl?” he questions, giving a side-eye to Dimitri.
“Everything is great,Finn,” Dimitri says irately.
The bartender ignores him and looks at me for clarification.
“Everything is fine. This is my fiancé’s brother,” I explain to him, so that he doesn’t think I’m in any kind of trouble and try to call for help.
“Wait, you’re engaged?” Finn says with a frown, searching my hand for an obvious ring, which isn’t there, because nothing about my engagement is traditional. “Damn, okay then,” he says before turning away.
I lean over to Dimitri and whisper conspiratorially to him, “I think he was upset that I’m not single.” And then I smile widely.
