“I’m sure your brother was groomed like Hawk was. He knew he’d be the president eventually. Sometimes we don’t get to choose our timeline, ya know? Speaking of, how are you feeling about tomorrow?”
Shrugging, I said, “Can’t be any worse than today. Between us, I’m quite nervous to meet your brother.”
Penny placed her hand on my arm. “Katarina, do you know why we came?”
“Call me Katya, or Kat, whichever you prefer. Sure, so I can meet my betrothed.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow, your family is worse than mine.” She moved in front of me and looked me square in the eyes. “We all came because you’re getting married tomorrow.”
My heart jumped into my throat and heat crept up my neck. “I– please excuse me.”
She gave my arms a quick rub then a squeeze. “Of course.”
Downing my drink, I walked from the parlor, still holdingmy martini glass. Walking swiftly down the hall, I was making a beeline to the stairs to rush to my room.
“Katushka! There you are. Come here, darling.”
Stopping in my tracks, I turned and took long strides for such short legs toward my father and my soon-to-be-husband. My heels clicked over the floor as I rushed toward them.
Papa smiled, his arms wide, as the man that I assumed was Hawk stood nearby. As I got close enough, though, I tried to throw my drink in his face, but I had already drunk it all.
“Dammit!” I snapped before slamming the glass to the tile floor.
As my father’s arm went up I flinched, but the other man stopped him.
“Petrov,” he barked.
Papa jerked his arm away. “I was reaching for her arm. I’ve never laid a hand on my daughter and I am not about to start. Isn’t that right, Katya?”
Nodding, I held my breath as I willed away tears.
“My apologies,” the man said. “Just an instinct to protect ladies.”
Papa straightened his blazer. “Of course. And one of the many reasons you were chosen. But she wasn’t raised to behave in such a manner,” Papa’s booming voice said as he wagged a finger toward me.
The man grinned. “Not a night goes by at the clubhouse that someone doesn’t break a glass. I’m Hawk,” he said as he held his hand out.
My shaky hand reached out and took his. It was warm and comforting, and his hands were softer than I’d imagined a man’s hands would be who rode motorcycles.
“This seems awfully tense. How about some air?” he asked.
I looked at Papa, awaiting his command, still trying to hold back tears.
“That may be a great idea,” Papa replied. “Dinner should be served shortly, though. I’ll see you in the dining room.”
Papa walked away, and Hawk looked around. “I’m a little lost around here. You want to lead the way out?”
I walked ahead of him, my hand pulling from his and missing the warmth. Feining a cough, I wiped the stray tear that escaped.
We went to the front since it was closer.
Once outside, the chill of the air helped cool me down. “How embarrassing. But also impressive on your part,” I said.
He stuck his hand out. “Let’s try this again. I’m Hawk.”
“Katarina.” I shook his hand. “Between earlier and just now, you must think I’m beastly.”
“Hardly, that’s Tuesday afternoon behavior for the bunnies.”
