His gaze lingers on me for a beat too long, uncomfortably intense, uncomfortably warm…then he holds out his hand.
“The envelope?”
“Oh!” I shove it toward him too quickly, but then his fingers brush against mine and a sharp, hot bolt races up my arm, straight to the center of my chest, leaving me breathless.
His eyes snap to mine.
For a moment, the world narrows and everything else disappears into the background; the shop, Vanda…until it’s just him.
His fingers stay on mine longer than they need to, lightly hooked against my knuckles, holding me there like he’s waiting. For what, I don’t know.
But I feel it.
The shift.
The tension.
The same crackling energy that hit me at the memorial service, only stronger now, concentrated and undeniable.
His eyes darken not in anger, but with something else. Something hungry. Something he’s trying very, very hard to hide.
“You feel that,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper.
It isn’t a question.
My breath stutters. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lie.
Obvious lie.
His mouth twitches, not a smile, but an acknowledgment. His fingers slowly slide away from mine, dragging over my skin in a way that makes goosebumps rise along my arm.
He pockets the envelope, never breaking eye contact.
“I’ll be back,” he says quietly. “Soon.”
My heart slams painfully against my ribs. His words sound like a promise and a threat at the same time.
“For the fee?” I ask, hating the slight tremor in my voice.
His gaze drops to my lips for a fraction of a second. “Maybe.”
Heat pours through me so fast I almost sway.
Then he turns, gives Vanda one last look and leaves the shop, the bell chiming behind him like some kind of punctuation mark on my unraveling sanity.
The door closes and an echoing silence falls over the room. I press a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing.
“Vanda,” I whisper, looking down at her wide, curious eyes. “What was that?”
She nudges my calf with her nose, and I swear she looks amused. I sink behind the counter beside her, heart still pounding.
I don’t know what scares me more. That Viktor Balshov will come back sooner than expected. Or that part of me is already waiting for him.
Chapter Two
Viktor
