“I think I’ll manage.” My lips pinch into a grin. “What’s that?” I point to the round, thick, pancake-looking things he adds to my plate.
“Those are syrniki.” He keeps working as he talks. “Cottage cheese pancakes. And these…” He picks up another one, larger and thinner. “It’s a crepe, but we call it blini. You can eat it with anything, but we like it with caviar.” He glances at me. “Have you ever had it?”
He adds a small spoonful of black caviar to the corner of my plate.
“Uh…definitely not.”
“Well, now you can.” He wraps the blini for me and slides the plate closer. “Try it. Tell me what you think.”
I swear, this feels like a vacation I’ve never been on. As I pick up the crepe, Kirill watches me intently like he cares what I think, and I don’t want to disappoint him.
When the first bite hits, I groan. My God, it’s so good. Mild and rich, the caviar cutting through the warmth of the blini in a way that makes my mouth water for another bite.
“This is so amazing,” I practically moan.
A grin spreads across his face, and the tension in him eases like he’s been holding it until this exact moment. Then he finally takes his own crepe.
“I’m glad you like it. There’s a lot more. Have as much as you want.”
We keep eating in a comfortable kind of silence, and I’m relaxing more with every minute that passes. Then Kirill sets his mug down and looks at his son.
“Lev, do you remember when we talked about needing a new nanny while Papa is working?”
Lev nods while lining up his strawberries on top of his pancakes.
Kirill tips his chin toward me. “Sloane will be your nanny. Do you like that idea?”
Lev looks up at me, studying my face like he’s running some private checklist. Then he gives a firm little nod and goes right back to lining up his strawberries.
My heart flips.
“That,” Kirill says, sounding faintly amused, “was his way of saying he’s happy.” He adds eggs to his plate. “After breakfast, we’ll go shopping. We’ll take Lev with us.”
“Oh. Okay.” I hesitate. “But I just need the basics. Please don’t go crazy.”
He laughs. “I don’t even know what that means.”
As soon as we step into the large boutique, I already know everything here is going to be expensive. I probably couldn’t even afford a single sock, let alone two.
I also don’t miss theClosed for Private Eventsign hanging on the door behind us.
A chandelier glitters overhead, the white marble floors shining so brightly they look untouched. A woman approaches in a striking red suit, her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail.
“Mr. Marinov. Welcome back.”
Of course he’s been here before.
He nods, one hand resting on Lev’s shoulder, the other settling at the small of my back as he guides me farther inside.
“This is Sloane. She’s my…” His gaze catches mine and my stomach flips. “She’s a good friend, and as I already told you, she’ll be needing a full wardrobe.” His hand presses a little firmer at my back. “And I meaneverything.”
The manager claps her hands once. “Of course. We’re delighted to have you. There are pastries and coffee set up in the lounge, and we’ve already selected some pieces based on the sizes you sent ahead.”
She glances at me, taking in my leggings and tank top, and I suddenly want to hide from embarrassment. I probably look like I don’t even belong here—which, duh, I don’t.
Kirill squeezes my hip, and I swear he senses exactly where my mind just went.
“Come with me to the back.” She gestures toward a hallway. “The girls and I will help you try things on.”
