Chapter 1
1
“ S ofia, let me help you with that.”
Sofia looked up. A long way up. She smiled gratefully at Colm as he grabbed the heavy crate from her hands.
Her back instantly thanked her. She really shouldn’t have been lifting the crate, but it had to be moved.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked. “Don’t you have employees to handle this? Where’s Oleg?”
Sofia bit back a sigh of longing at the way his muscles contracted as he lifted the crate higher and carried it through the backdoor of Solnyshko, the restaurant she co-owned with her cousin.
Solynshko meant sun in Russian; it had been her father’s nickname for her. Her father had emigrated from Russia when he was thirty-four, but he’d done his best to keep his native language alive in their house, even though she’d been born here in the states.
Sofia had never known her mother. She’d died after giving birth to her. And her father had hated talking about her, claiming that the pain was still too raw.
Colm wore a short-sleeved, tight T-shirt, giving her an excellent view of his thick biceps. She swore his biceps were thicker than her thighs.
What would it be like to be wrapped up in those arms?
Safe. She would feel safe.
Colm wouldn’t allow anyone to harm her. She gently touched her wrist, making sure her sleeve covered the new bruises.
“Sofia, where do you want this?”
She startled, glancing up at Colm. A frown of concern scrunched his forehead as he watched her cautiously. He was so large that he dominated the small storeroom. It should have frightened her, having someone so big in such a tight space with her. Especially as no one else was around. He could do anything he liked.
But it wasn’t the size of someone that made them a bully. And Colm had never once tried to harm her. He’d never once grown angry with her.
In fact, he’d been nothing but kind and caring.
“Sofia, what’s wrong?” He stepped forward and she took a hasty step back.
“Oh, nothing,” she said with a smile. “Just daydreaming.” She half turned. “If you could just stack it on top of this one, that would be great.”
Colm frowned. “If I put it up there, you won’t be able to reach inside.”
“That’s okay. I’ll use a step stool.” Being five-foot-one meant she had quickly gotten used to climbing up and down step stools to reach things.
“I don’t like that idea.”
“What idea?” she asked, confused.
“The idea of you having to use a step stool. You could fall off.”
Holy heck.
It was ridiculous, yet so darn sweet, that she almost teared up. Why did he care so much about her safety?
“Your cousin shouldn’t allow it,” he added stubbornly.
And now that warm feeling was gone. The man was impossible.
“You really think Aleksandr should ban me from climbing step stools?” she asked incredulously.
“No,” he said, his Scottish accent growing thicker.
Lord, a Scottish accent was hot.
Colm often popped into Solynshko for dinner or a drink. And sometimes, when he talked to her, he’d let his accent slip free. Sofia liked to think it was because he felt relaxed around her.
However, that was probably wishful thinking.
“Good,” she said. He must have been joking.
“I think he should ban you from climbing anything at all,” he added.
Or he was just batshit crazy.
Sofia placed her hands on her hips. “From anything at all?”
“Yep.”
“Have you lost your mind?” she asked.
He stepped closer to her. “Have you lost yours? You shouldn’t be carrying around heavy crates. Or using step stools that you could slip off. Oleg needs to take better care of you.”
Oleg? Take care of her? Ha, that was a laugh.
Oleg only knew how to take care of Oleg.
And the less she saw of Oleg, the better. All he gave her was pain.
“Why do you look like that?” Colm demanded. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. Why would anything be wrong?” she asked with a false smile.
Sofia turned away toward the door. She had to get away from him before she lost what was left of her control and threw herself at him.
And confessed the whole truth.
That she hated Oleg.
And wanted Colm.