Page 12 of My Ex’s Dad

Nicer than Roman ever treated me.

“I, um, it’s been a long day,” I say, partly to be polite but mostly because I don’t want him to stop talking to me.

“I share the sentiment.”

“So it must suck that I showed up to barge in.”

He glances at me again. “I thought it was decided that you didn’t barge.”

I bite my lip. “I didn’t want that other man to fuss over me.”

“Viktor,” he says. “And he won’t fuss over you.”

I frown.

“I will.”

There’s that authority again. I jerk my face up and realize he’s smirking at me. It’s hard to get a read on him. Dominant, but not pushy or demanding. Cold, but a gentleman to care about whether I was hurt.

“You’ll fuss over me? The stranger who wrecked your car?” That’s what sticks with me most. I’ll have to pay for my car. His car. Probably something on top of that as an apology for the intrusion. And he still hasn’t acted like any of it bothers him. Maybe it’s that difference between our worlds again. The bakery’s about to go under, and my money worries never made any sense to Roman, who acted like cash grew on trees. This man probably sees it the same way, tied to the Sokolov Family like he is.

Done with bandaging my hand, he steps back and rakes his dark gaze over me again. “Come have dinner with me while we wait for reception.”

I blink at him, incredulous. Then again. “Dinner?”

He nods, crossing his arms. That command is evident again. He’s firm. But it’s not in such a manner that puts me off.

“I can’t⁠—”

My stomach growls, making a liar out of me.

His lips kick up at one corner.

I clear my throat and lower my gaze. “I’m only here long enough to get a ride back to the city.”

“Which will be long enough to enjoy dinner with me.” Without waiting for a confirmation, he leaves the bathroom, talking as he goes. “Viktor has brought some things for you to change into. I’ll see you downstairs.”

Still perched on the edge of the vanity, I wait for this to make sense.

A sexy, older man telling me to come to dinner with him after I crashed into his car.

This enigma of a person tricking me into wishing for more of those heavy looks.

I rub my finger over the bandage he put on the back of my hand.

What is going on here?

I mean to come and go. In and out. Pick up my things and get right back to the city. And now I’m expected to participate in an impromptu dinner date?

Shaking my head slowly, I stand and check for clothes in the bedroom. There are some, and even though they’re not mine, I figure it won’t hurt to borrow them for a while. I change into them and spread my wet clothes across the bathroom vanity to dry faster.

Before I go to the first floor, I check my phone and wince.

No reception. No way to contact Jenni or my parents and let them know I’m taking longer than I anticipated.

Oh, well. There’s nothing I can do about that.

Shrugging, I let my phone drop to the bed.