9. Evelyn
9
EVELYN
I ’ve been lost in thought, looking over the crowd of people at the gala and trying to remind myself of all the reasons why I can’t give in to the way Dimitri is making me feel. From the moment I saw him waiting for me downstairs at my apartment, I knew that keeping him at arm’s length was going to be far more difficult than I anticipated.
Everything about him seems designed to tempt me. His looks, his accent, the way he fires back at me every time I throw some barbed comment at him, and yet the way he seems almost impressed by me at the same time. I know he was impressed by how I handled his business associate earlier. And truthfully, I don’t know how I managed it. I just knew that if we slipped up, our deal—and therefore the future of my shop—might be in danger.
He’s a dangerous man, I know that—and yet he seems almost gentle with me at times. It’s an intriguing combination, and it makes me want to know more about him. But at the same time, I know that the less I get to know Dimitri, the better off I am.
We need to behave normally, which was why I suggested the dance, but the minute he touched my back, I realized it was a terrible idea. Just the feeling of his fingers sliding against the silk sent a wave of heat through me, desire prickling over my skin as my knees felt momentarily as if they might not hold me up.
My pulse is fluttering in my throat as I try not to think about how the warm juniper scent of his skin makes me feel, how I keep being seized by the desire to step closer to him, to find out how his firm, muscled body would feel pressed against mine. I keep trying to think about anything else, when an unfamiliar woman’s voice cuts through the air.
“Dimitri, who the fuck is this?”
I turn to see a woman dressed in a long, silvery gown with thin pearl straps and a slit up either side, her blonde hair piled artfully on her head, drop pearl earrings in her ears to match. She’s stunningly beautiful in a sharp, angular sort of way, with piercing green eyes and a delicacy to her figure that doesn’t match the steely look on her face.
“My fiance, Evelyn—” Dimitri starts to say, but the woman cuts him off, those green eyes sweeping over me in a brief and cutting appraisal.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me. I thought Colin was just trying to wind me up, but he was actually telling the truth?” Her eyes flick to my left hand, taking in the large engagement ring there. “Oh, this is disgusting . I don’t even know who she is. You broke off our agreement for some nobody ? If you wanted to slum it, Dimitri, I wouldn’t have stopped you, so long as?—”
“Enough!” Dimitri’s voice slices through the air, cutting her off. I’m speechless, everything I might have said caught in my throat as I stare at the woman who I now realize must have been Dimitri’s intended fiancee.
The woman he didn’t want to marry—the one he used me to escape from.
“Dimitri—” I start to speak, but he’s not listening, all of his focus is on the furious woman in front of him.
“And now she’s here with you, when you knew ?—”
“Enough, Nicci!” he repeats, his jaw tightening. “Of course I brought her. She’s my fiance, and this is where she belongs. On my arm, with me, at one of the many events I’m supposed to show up to this season. So you might as well get used to seeing her.”
Nicci laughs, the sound cutting. “So now you want to be at these things? Now that you can rub this in my face? I’ll make sure that everyone knows exactly how thoroughly you want to humiliate me then, Dimitri. We’ll see how things go when your associates find out how you keep your word?—”
“We weren’t formally engaged, Nicci,” Dimitri says tightly. “And that’s the end of it. Evelyn, let’s go.”
His hand touches the small of my back, steering me away from Nicci—who is practically trembling with rage—and the rest of the guests who have started to gather around in small pockets, whispering and looking. My face heats, and I follow Dimitri’s guidance blindly, embarrassment washing over me so thickly that I don’t even realize we’re leaving until Dimitri ushers me outside and the cold air knocks me out of my haze.
“What—why are we leaving?” I look at him, but he’s not looking back at me, his jaw tight as he marches us both forward to the car, inside as the driver opens the door for us. “We didn’t have to?—”
“I didn’t want to subject you to that any longer. They’ll be whispering about it all night,” Dimitri says tightly. “Take us to the Russian Tea Room,” he tells the driver as we slide into the car, his voice a sharp, crisp order.
“I—” I press my hands briefly to my face, trying to regain my composure. Too many feelings are sweeping through me all at once, and I draw in a breath, trying to sort through the emotions. “You didn’t warn me that she might be there.”
“I didn’t think to.” Dimitri pinches the bridge of his nose, and I can see that he’s frustrated, as well. “Truthfully, I didn’t think she’d make a scene. I’m sorry, Evelyn. I should have thought to mention that there was a possibility that?—”
“It’s fine.” I cut him off abruptly, feeling my chest tighten. Irrationally, I find myself wishing that he’d stood up to Nicci, that instead of whisking me out of there, he’d made a show of how happy he was to be there with me. That he’d?—
That he’d what? I ask myself, biting my lip as I look out of the window. This engagement isn’t real. We need to put on a united front in public, but Dimitri more than fulfilled that by telling Nicci to stop, and taking me out of the situation. Why should it matter that he wanted to leave, rather than making a show of our relationship in front of her? Why should I care that he didn’t come up with some elaborate story for her, the way I did for his business associate?
This man is making me foolish. He’s making me irrational. And that makes me angry, too, so I don’t say anything else, pressing my lips together as I watch the traffic slide by.
“We’ll go get dinner,” Dimtri says, clearly trying to smooth it over. “If you’d like, we can?—”
“I’d rather just go home.” It comes out before I meant to say it, but as I do, I realize that I mean it. “If you don’t mind. I don’t really want to sit and pretend to enjoy dinner after—I’d rather you just drop me off.”
“You’ve got to be hungry.” Dimitri turns towards me. “I’m sorry, Evelyn. She made a scene, but we can still salvage the night?—”
“This isn’t a date.” I twist towards him, days of churning emotions and the embarrassment of the night churning in my stomach and making me angrier towards him than I probably really have a right to be. “This was a part of our deal. I show up on your arm to the gala, put on the front of your happy fiancee. I did that. Now I’m your humiliated fiancee, and I don’t really want to ‘salvage’ the night. I want to go home. I want to take a hot shower, and I want to go to bed.”
Dimitri’s eyebrows rise. “You know,” he says wryly, his head tilting slightly as he looks at me. “Usually when I make a decision, everyone else falls in line behind me. They don’t argue with me.”
“You picked the wrong woman to marry, then.” I wrap my arms around my waist, still trying to shake off the lingering, crawling feeling of embarrassment from the party. “I’m not just going to do whatever you tell me to, Dimitri. You didn’t put that in the contract, anyway. And I already signed it.”
“Too late to add an addendum, I suppose?” There’s amusement in his voice, and I glare at him.
“Yes, it is too late.” I press my lips together, turning away from him. I feel him lean forward next to me, hear him tell the driver to take us to my address instead, but I don’t say anything else. A wave of exhaustion sweeps over me, and I lean back, closing my eyes briefly. I’m not saying that I want to go home to be difficult—I truly don’t want to do anything else this evening.
Dimitri lets out a long breath, and I feel a gulf open up between us. He’s clearly frustrated, and so am I, and if this were a real relationship, I imagine we’d try to resolve it. But it’s not. The only thing real about this is that we each have our end of the deal to keep up, and as far as I’m concerned, I did that tonight.
The car stops in front of my building, and the driver comes around to open the door for me. Just as I’m about to slide out, Dimitri’s hand wraps around mine, and I stiffen, glancing back at him.
“I am sorry about tonight,” he says quietly. “I can’t promise that it won’t happen again. Nicci moves in these same social circles, and I imagine the two of you will run into each other again. But?—”
“I’ll be prepared for it next time, at least.” I pull my hand away, sliding out of the car and out into the cold. “Good night, Dimitri.”
“Evelyn—” He starts to say something else, but I ignore it, walking briskly to the front door of my building. I slip into the slightly warmer interior, shutting the door hard behind me, my heart beating a quick patter in my chest in rhythm with the click of my heels on the tile as I head for the elevator.
When I’m back in my apartment, the warmth of it surrounding me like a cocoon, I lean back against the door. I hear Buttons running towards me from where he was asleep in the bedroom, feel the brush of his fur as he bumps up against my leg, and I lean down, scratching behind his ears as the familiarity of home eases the sick feeling that’s been in my stomach ever since I left the party with Dimitri.
Was this a mistake? It feels like one right now. I don’t belong in Dimitri’s world, that much is clear—and I don’t want to. I was able to come up with a quick answer for the question of how we met, but none of the people at that party were the sort of people I like to spend time with. And in this particular moment, with my emotions running high, the thought of leaving my apartment to move into whatever mansion or penthouse Dimitri lives in makes me want to burst into tears.
But it always comes back around to the fact that I didn’t really have a choice. This was my best option if I want to be able to rebuild Pearls & Lace, and that hasn’t changed. All that’s changed is that I’m reminded that if I’m going to make it out of this with my heart and my dignity intact, I have to remember why I’ve agreed to this arrangement.
That means keeping my hands off of my husband-to-be. That means not letting him get under my skin. And it means keeping all my walls up, no matter how hard he tries to scale them.
If he tries to get over them, I’ll just have to add barbed wire on top. I can’t soften for him. I can’t let myself believe that this is anything but what we agreed to.
This is business. And I can’t allow it to be anything more.
—
By the next morning, I’m starting to feel a little better. The dress I bought for the party is banished to the back of my closet, where I don’t have to look at it and remember how humiliated I was. Dimitri sent me a text, checking in on me, and I replied with an abrupt I’m fine . He hasn’t replied since, and I managed to remind myself that’s for the best.
When I wake up, outside is a snowy wonderland, my corner of the city remarkably quiet for a Saturday morning, the trees covered in icicles and the sky a heavy grey. Buttons is running in excited circles by the time I get out of a hot shower, looking up at me with soulful eyes, and I decide that the best thing for my lingering malaise is to get out of the apartment and go get a bagel for breakfast.
I get Buttons’ sweater and snow booties on, buckle him into his harness, and bundle myself up into a coat, beanie, mittens, and heavy boots. The cold air slaps me in the face the minute we walk outside, but it’s surprisingly refreshing, and Buttons is dragging at the end of his leash, thrilled to be out in the cold and the snow. As always, his excitement cheers me up, and by the time we make it down to the bagel shop, where my favorite egg, Gouda, and maple bacon breakfast sandwich is on the menu, I can feel all of the remaining embarrassment and anger from last night slipping away.
It’s fine , I tell myself, as I dash a little hot sauce onto the sandwich and fold the wrapper around it, looping Buttons’ leash around one hand so I can eat as we walk back. I’ll throw myself into putting together some semblance of a wedding for us within the month, as agreed to when we signed the contract, and then I’ll throw myself into renovating the shop. I’ll keep myself busy so that I don’t think about the way Dimitri’s hand on the small of my back feels, or how good he smells, or how it makes my heart race when we banter, throwing jabs back and forth that are really, deep down, some kind of verbal foreplay that I never knew I wanted with a man until I fell into it.
And eventually, the shop will be restored, and Dimtri’s father will pass away and leave him his inheritance, and we’ll sign divorce papers and go our separate ways. And if for some reason Dimitri doesn’t keep his word, Dahlia has promised me her family lawyer, who deals with politicians and billionaires every day, and can handle even the leader of an organized crime family.
I’m marrying into the fucking Bratva. Every time I remember it, it doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel like a thing that actually exists, and it certainly doesn’t feel like something I should have agreed to. But as long as I don’t pay attention to Dimitri’s business, and as long as I keep my distance from him, I’ll just be his wife. Nothing he does will touch me, and I won’t know anything I shouldn’t. And once we divorce, I’ll put it all behind me.
I take the last bite of my sandwich, stopping to toss the wrapper into the trash, and as I do, Buttons barks suddenly, a sharp, abrupt sound that ends in a growl. I see a flash of something black out of the corner of my eye, and I turn, my heart leaping into my throat as I see the back of what looks like a masculine figure in all black clothing ducking into a nearby alley.
There’s boot prints in the snow. The street is all but empty where I am now, a few people getting in and out of cars, but I’m back near my apartment. Buttons is still growling low in his throat, his fur puffing out around the edges of his sweater at his neck as his hackles rise, and I grip the leash tighter as my chest tightens with fear.
“Come on, buddy,” I whisper, swallowing hard as I start to walk faster towards my apartment building. My muscles feel wound tight as I listen for the crunching of snow again, trying to hear if there are other footsteps besides my own. My heart is beating hard in my chest, and I feel like I can’t breathe.
Buttons is still making that low growling sound as we walk, his ears back as he pulls at the leash, and I feel sure that I hear someone walking several yards behind me. But I can’t bring myself to turn around and look. What would I do, if there was? How would I protect myself? I have pepper spray on my keychain, like probably every woman living alone in Manhattan does, but suddenly that doesn’t feel like all that much protection. I think of the Crow who came into my shop, the bulge of a gun at his back, and I think of what might happen to Buttons if someone attacked me and he tried to defend me.
I walk faster, fighting the urge to break into a run. I’m sure I hear footsteps now, getting closer, but I can see my apartment building just ahead. I’m close enough that if I pick up my pace, just a little?—
I fumble with my keys with my free hand, getting the key for the front lobby door out. Walking as fast as I dare, I shove it at the lock the moment we reach the door, missing twice before I manage to get the key in with my shaking fingers and twist it. I bolt inside with Buttons, slamming it shut behind me just in time to look over my shoulder and see a man maybe ten yards back, dressed in all black, a balaclava pulled up around his chin and a beanie pulled low over his forehead so that only his eyes, nose, and mouth are visible. He stops, dark eyes meeting mine, and then pivots on his heel, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets as he strides quickly away.
Shit . I feel like I can’t breathe, my hand wrapped so tightly around Buttons’ leash that my fingers have gone numb even inside my thick mittens. “Come on,” I whisper again, as much for myself as for the dog, walking quickly towards the elevator.
I need to call Dimitri. I need to tell him what just happened, even though everything inside of me rebels at the thought. I’ve been taking care of myself my entire adult life without the help of a man, and the last thing I want to do is call my fake fiance and ask him what I’m supposed to do. But I would bet the money he’s going to give me to fix my shop that that man walking behind me had something to do with the Crows, and I’m smart enough to know that I’m in over my head.
I lock the door behind me as soon as I’m in the apartment, latching every single lock on the door, and then, still bundled up, I call Dimitri.
“Evelyn?” He answers on the second ring, his voice cool and calm, a faint curiosity in his tone. “Is everything alright?”
“No.” My voice is shaking, and I feel like my knees might give out. Underneath all of my layers, I can feel sweat prickling across my skin. “I went for a walk. Just a few blocks to this bagel place to get breakfast. Someone was following me home. A man all in black. I didn’t see much of his face—he had dark eyes.” I swallow hard, wondering if I should have called the police instead. But can I even do that, any longer? I’m marrying a man who is part of the Bratva. I’ve willingly entered a different world, one where regular law enforcement can’t help me any longer. And would they even care if I did? I can imagine dozens of women report men following them every day. I doubt they do much more than maybe file a report, and say to be careful.
“ Yebat ,” Dimitri swears, his voice suddenly harsh and cutting, every word clipped as he keeps speaking. “Are you home now?”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard, leaning back against the door. Next to me, Buttons has laid down on the tile floor, still in his sweater and harness and booties. “We both are. I locked the door?—”
“Stay there. Don’t open the door for anyone until I get there. Do you understand?”
I nod, and then remember that I’m on the phone and he can’t see me. “Yes,” I say in a small voice. “You’re coming here? Now?”
“Yes. What apartment are you?”
“407.” I hadn’t told him before, wanting to keep that much of my own personal life private still, but there’s not really any point now. Besides, as much as I don’t want to admit it, I want him here. I don’t want to be alone right now, and if there’s someone watching my building, I don’t want Dahlia to come by and put herself in danger.
“I’ll be leaving shortly. Don’t go anywhere, don’t answer the door.”
“I heard you.” I strip off my mittens, feeling hot and cold all at once. “I won’t.”
“Good,” he says curtly, and hangs up the phone.
Numbly, I strip out of my coat, taking off Buttons’ things as well. I need something to do, and I go to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, jumping at every small sound that I hear out in the hall. How did this happen? I think to myself as I try to focus on brewing the tea, my fingers trembling and making me drop the packet with the tea bag in it before I finally get it open. How did I get mixed up in all of this?
I thought agreeing to Dimitri’s proposal was the right decision, but maybe I’ve only made everything worse. Maybe I’ve only gotten myself in deeper. But what else was I supposed to do?
The tea, when I finally finish making it, is so hot that I burn the tip of my tongue when I take a sip. At the same moment, a heavy knock comes at my front door, and I let out a startled cry, sending Buttons into a fit of barking and the tea slopping over the edge of the cup. I hiss as it hits the side of my hand, burning me, and drop the mug into the sink, hearing it crack as Dimitri’s voice comes through the front door.
“Evelyn?”
“Just a minute!” I herd Buttons towards the bedroom, not wanting to risk him freaking out on Dimitri. I haven’t actually told Dimitri that I have a dog, or that Buttons will be coming with me, and that’s not a conversation I’m prepared to have right now. I close the bedroom door firmly, hearing Dimitri say my name again, and hurry to the front door to unlock it.
When I open the door, Dimitri is standing outside in chinos, a wool sweater and a heavy peacoat, handsome as a catalog model and looking entirely out of place in the worn hallway of my apartment building. And he’s not alone—next to him is a man who looks very much like the one who was with him the night he came by my shop after it burned, in that every inch of this man screams professional security .
“Did you replace the other one?” I ask curiously, looking at the black-garbed man. He has a similar build, although his hair is a bit longer, and a darker blond. “Do you order them all from the same catalog, or?—”
“This is Gus,” Dimitri says flatly, his expression thoroughly unamused. “Vik is down the hall, watching to see if anyone comes up.”
“Do they all have three-letter names, too?” I’m aware from the look on Dimitri’s face that my humor isn’t landing, but I can’t stop. The panic from earlier and the overwhelming feeling that my life is spinning out of control has to go somewhere, and right now, it seems to be transmuting itself into jokes.
“Gus is going to be your bodyguard,” Dimitri says, not missing a beat. “He’ll stay here with you. If you go anywhere, he’ll go with you. He?—”
“What?” I blink at him, sure that I’m somehow hearing him incorrectly. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“You were followed home by someone who is likely a member of the gang that’s threatening you, so yes, you do.” Dimitri’s tone is patient, but I can hear just how thin that patience is. His jaw is tight, and I see the muscle in the side of it tick. “This isn’t up for debate, Evelyn.”
“It wasn’t in the contract?—”
That muscle ticks again, and Dimitri lets out a huffing breath through his nose. “Evelyn, there’s no reason to be difficult about this. You asked for my help, and I am giving?—”
“I asked for your help. Where is he going to sleep? Does he work twenty-four hours a day? What exact situation are you suggesting here, because?—”
“He can sleep on your couch. He can sleep on the floor, if need be. Gus is ex-special forces, I don’t think he particularly cares. He’ll order food on the work credit card he’s been given, and he will be within earshot of you twenty-four hours a day, yes. Here in your apartment, or?—”
I start to shut the door in Dimitri’s face. It’s not the appropriate, adult reaction, I know, but just at that moment, I don’t care. I’m too shocked and overwhelmed to think about what I’m doing, and all I know is that I don’t want a strange man living in my apartment, and I want this conversation to end.
But it doesn’t matter, because Dimitri steps forward before the door can shut, wedging his foot into it and planting his forearm against the door, his blue eyes narrowing. “Evelyn?—”
There’s a warning in his voice, but I ignore it. I shove at the door, trying to push him out of the space that’s left, but he just pushes back, shoving it further open and pushing into my apartment as I let out a yelp and he slams the door behind him.
Gus stays outside.
“Get out!” I yell, and Buttons starts barking from the bedroom, but Dimitri surprisingly doesn’t take notice of it. Either he thinks the sound is coming from somewhere else, or he’s too focused on me, his eyes narrowed in on mine as I turn and grab the doorknob to wrench it open and force him out.
His hand closes around my wrist, pulling it away, and before I know it he’s spun me around with my back to the door, my wrist clasped in his hand as he looms over me.
Oh god. Heat races through me, venomous words rising to my lips at the same moment that my heart starts to pound in my chest, my gaze locked onto Dimitri’s as he glares down at me.
I’m furious, I’m ready to bite his head off for forcing his way into my apartment—and I’m so turned on that I can barely think. And that makes me even angrier.
“See how easy that was?” Dimitri asks, his voice deceptively calm. “This is why you need Gus here, Evelyn. I got into your apartment that easily. I could be anyone.”
But you aren’t , I want to say, the barbed words that I’d wanted to throw at him dying on my tongue as the scent of his cologne and skin fill my senses, the pressure of his fingers around my wrist making my heart beat in a strange rhythm, making me think about things that I’ve never thought to want before. He’s so close, closer than any man has been to me in a long time, and everything that I wanted to yell at him dissolves as I try to keep myself from drowning under a sudden, overwhelming tide of lust.
“You can let Gus stay,” Dimitri says, his voice hard and unrelenting. “Or you can come stay at my penthouse with me, where my building security can keep an eye on you. But you’ll still have Gus with you wherever you go. This is not negotiable, Evelyn.”
“And if I say no?” I fling back at him, the words choked in my throat. I feel like I can’t breathe.
“There is no saying no.” His voice drops to a growl, his eyes narrowing. “I said I would protect you, Evelyn. This is me protecting you?—”
“I don’t want a stranger in my apartment!” I snap, my anger surfacing again. “I don’t want someone watching everything I do, constantly hounding me?—”
“You won’t even know Gus is here?—”
“Yes I will! My apartment is the size of a postage stamp?—”
“Then come stay with me.” Dimitri is unrelenting. His eyes never leave mine for even a moment, and I can feel the tension running through him, a taut wire on the verge of snapping. I wonder if he’s feeling this same heat licking through his veins, the same desire crashing over him, demanding things that I’m not supposed to allow. “Pack up and come back with me to my penthouse.”
“No.” I shake my head firmly. “I’m not doing that.”
“Why?” Dimitri challenges, and I suck in a breath, because I can see the heat in his eyes. He knows why. He knows exactly why I’m not willing to share a roof with him one day sooner than I have to.
“Evelyn—” This time, when he says my name, his voice sounds strangled. His fingers loosen around my wrist, and tighten again, his eyes dropping to my lips. The look on his face is hungry , suddenly, like he’s been starving all his life and he’s suddenly seen something he can’t wait to taste.
And then, before I can say a word, his mouth comes crashing down onto mine.