29. Brooke
I don’t see Lev for the rest of the day, so I spend it in his library, reading, and I get so lost in the book that I don’t realize it’s late afternoon until Enya pops her head in.
“There you are.” She comes over to me. “We need to get you ready for tonight.”
“Ah yes, the charity auction.”
“For someone who is about to get wined and dined at a very fancy event, you don’t sound very excited.”
I want to tell her that I don’t think excited is a word I’d use for any of this. But that’d be a lie. Because when I put my hand on Lev’s rock-hard chest this afternoon, electricity tore through me like I was a human transformer. Which is bad, bad news. Because I can’t afford to let Lev make me feel anything other than contempt for him.
Not this relentless craving for just one more night with him that seems to have reared its head in the last twenty-four hours.
Like seriously, it’s like my hormones are on steroids or something.
“It sounds like it’s going to be a whole lot of rich people standing around in all their diamonds pretending to feel bad about something,” I say, not looking forward to the night of small talk and phoniness.
“Oh no, Mr. Zarkov would never attend anything stuffy like that. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised and have a wonderful time. Besides, that dress you ordered online earlier just arrived, and you’re going to look stunning wearing it.” She takes me by the wrist. “Come on, let’s get you ready.”
Again, Enya works her magic with my hair and makeup.
“There, what do you think?” she asks, adding the finishing touches to my hair. She’s swept it into an up style with loose tendrils hanging around my face.
“You might actually be a fairy godmother,” I say, admiring what she’s done.
She giggles, and I realize how infectious it is because I can’t help but smile and feel my spirits rise whenever she is around.
Our eyes meet in the mirror.
“You know, Igor seems nice,” I say.
Enya’s smile becomes coy and shy, and she looks away. “He is.”
And I get the feeling he is a topic she’s thought a lot about.
“I think he likes you,” I say.
Her gaze darts back to me. “Oh no, Igor wouldn’t be interested in someone like me.”
“Someone like you? What do you mean?”
“He’s the pakhan’s bodyguard and driver. He’s an important man in the bratva.”
“And you’re just as important.” I turn around to face her. “He would be lucky to have a woman as smart and as talented and kind and beautiful as you.”
She smiles sweetly. “You’re too kind, but—”
“No buts, Enya. It’s all true. If you’re interested in him, then tell him.”
“You think?”
I wink. “I know.”
She helps me to my feet and guides me over to the full-length mirror so I can see the whole package.
“My God, you look stunning,” she says, her gaze sweeping up and down the red velvet dress clinging to my body.
The dress is very Pretty Woman. In fact, all of this feels like something right out of the movies, and I have to remind myself not to get carried away. That all of this is just as fake as the movies.
Lev isn’t some debonair billionaire come to whisk me away from a life of struggle and scarceness. He’s a ruthless businessman who controls a large empire full of men and women whose main objective is to be rich and powerful and who are prepared to do anything to get there, no matter the cost.
But then I look at Enya, and I can’t help but feel like some of this is real.
She goes to turn away, but I gently take her wrist in my hand. “Thank you. It’s nice to have a friend while I’m staying here.”
Her smile is big. “I hope you decide to stay a little longer.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that I’ll be gone in a matter of days. After all, Wilson will probably be on his way back from Oregon by now.
“One thing I’ve learned lately is to never say never,” I reply cryptically, and she smiles brightly as if the idea of me staying makes her immensely happy.
To avoid any more arguments and to keep that vein in the middle of Lev’s forehead from popping, I make sure to be ready on time, and at seven o’clock, I am in the grand foyer. I’m expecting Lev, but it’s Igor who is waiting.
“Where is Lev?”
“The pakhan is delayed with a phone call.” He opens the massive front door. “He asked us to wait in the car.”
The brisk air hits me as I step out into the chilly night and down the stairs to the waiting car. Igor opens the door for me, and I climb in, where it’s instantly warmer.
He climbs in the front, and we wait.
In silence.
Finally, I lean forward and rest my chin on the back of his seat. “So, how did it go with Enya?”
The giant doesn’t say anything at first. He’s probably used to keeping quiet and vanishing into the background, which is quite the feat for a seven-foot giant.
But then he surprises me and says, “I helped her with the groceries, that is all.”
“You didn’t ask her out?”
His eyes find mine in the rearview mirror. “I would not do that.”
“Why not?”
Surprising me, his shoulders relax. “I’m sure Enya has better options.”
I tap his shoulder with the back of my hand. “She likes you, dude.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw the way her face lit up when you offered to help her carry in the groceries.”
A hint of emotion softens his face, and his lips twitch.
But then the grumpy pakhan opens the door and ruins the moment, and Igor’s stony fa?ade shoots back up like a security panel in a bank robbery. Disappointed I didn’t get to finish our conversation, I sit back in the seat, and Lev slides in beside me, engulfing me in the larger-than-life presence that he is and the intoxicating scent that is pure nirvana.
He sweeps his gaze over me but remains expressionless, so I have no clue if he’s happy with how I look or not.
Igor and I find each other in the rearview mirror, and he gives me a friendly nod.
Then, without another word, he ignites the engine, and we drive off into the night.