Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Irina couldn’t help the little bubble of happiness surrounding her as they headed toward the restaurant.
It was the first time Roman and Irina had truly been out of the house, and she was so excited she wanted to throw her arms wide and dance for joy.
Over the past few days, she had learned to never take anything for granted, especially not being able to go out any time she chose.
A host greeted them as they climbed up the wide wooden steps. “Two tonight?”
“Yes, please,” Irina replied.
He tipped his head and grabbed two rolls of silverware. “Inside or out?”
Irina looked up at Roman. As if reading her mind, he nodded to the deck out back. “Outside.”
The host made a notation on his seating chart, then led them to a small table on the deck overlooking the ocean. “Gabi will be right with you.”
Roman grabbed a laminated menu from the condiment stand in the middle of the table, and Irina glanced toward the horizon, turned burnt orange from the setting sun. “This is beautiful,” she said.
As soon as the words left her throat, a pretty, young waitress—Gabi, according to her name tag—appeared by their table. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Iced tea for me, please,” Irina said.
Gabi nodded at her request then turned to Roman.
A tiny kernel of jealousy lodged in Irina’s throat as Gabi’s eyes drifted over Roman’s wide shoulders and biceps that strained the sleeves of his dark polo.
Completely unaware of her perusal, Roman ordered a Coke, then turned his attention back to the menu as the waitress reluctantly dragged her gaze away from him and drifted inside.
“What are you having?” Roman asked.
His eyes lifted to hers, and she forced a smile. “I haven’t looked yet.”
She had been too busy watching the waitress check him out to even look at the menu. Unaware of the detour her thoughts had taken, Roman continued. “Get a steak if you want one.”
“Maybe.” Irina picked up a menu and began to scan the items, then let out a soft sigh as she gestured to the ocean lapping at the shore just a few hundred yards away. “As good as it sounds, I’m probably better off ordering seafood.”
“Probably.” Roman grinned. “I’ll take you to a steakhouse next time you’re craving a steak.”
Next time? Irina’s cheeks burned as she dropped her gaze back to the menu in her hands. The waitress came back to deliver their drinks, then took their orders. Irina decided on the shrimp and scallops while Roman ordered an entire platter of seafood, plus several sides.
She glanced at him, amazed, as the waitress returned to the kitchen. “I don’t know where you put all that food.”
He leaned back in his chair and patted his flat—and very ripped—stomach. “I burn a lot of calories.”
Irina let out a very unladylike snort. “Must be nice to eat whatever you want and burn it all right back off.”
“Whatever,” he scoffed. “You need to stop listening to all those people. I’ve watched you pick at your food like you’re afraid to eat it because they’ve drilled it into your head that you’re somehow not good enough.
There’s nothing wrong with you. Don’t let those idiots make you feel bad, because you’re absolutely—”
He cut off suddenly, his gaze darting away as he gave his head a little shake. “You’re fine the way you are.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, but he picked up his phone and began to fiddle with the screen.
Irina watched him for a moment, not missing the tense set to his shoulders, the slight tic in his jaw.
A warm glow flared to life around her heart, and she felt the heat climb over her chest and up her neck, and into her cheeks.
He thought she was perfect—he’d said as much earlier.
She tried so hard to be confident, but she always seemed to fall short of the mark.
People were always comparing her to someone else, and everyone had an opinion on how she should be.
She’d heard it all—she was too fat, too thin, too pretty, too plain, too honest, too fake.
She’d be lying if she said Roman’s words didn’t affect her.
Thank God she still wore her sunglasses so she could conceal her expression.
Despite years of trying to harden herself, she still wore her heart on her sleeve, and her eyes were like an open book for anyone to read.
It wasn’t the first time he’d seemed to look straight into her soul and known exactly how she felt.
For the next few minutes, they lapsed into silence.
Roman avoided her completely as he immersed himself in something on his phone, and she stared out at the beach, lost in thought.
She swore she’d seen something in his eyes earlier, heard something in his voice.
She’d shelved all thoughts of exploring any possible attraction between them over the past few days, but now she wondered…
Was it possible he felt the same way about her?
The waitress delivered their meals, tearing her from her introspection. She hovered by the table for a moment, her eyes fixed on Roman, and Irina bristled. The jealousy she’d felt earlier flared once more, sending heat racing over her skin. “Can I get some ketchup, please?”
Gabi’s head whipped in Irina’s direction, and she quickly nodded. “Of course.”
She headed back toward the kitchen, and Irina glanced across the table at Roman. He’d set his phone down and was currently digging into his food, completely unaware of her internal struggle.
Irina offered a tight smile to the waitress as she returned with the ketchup, but it was a futile effort because Gabi’s gaze was locked on Roman. Anger simmered in Irina’s stomach, sending prickles of heat over her skin. It was irrational to feel possessive of him, but she couldn’t help it.
She picked up her fork and speared a scallop, then lifted it to her lips.
Her heart raced in her chest, making it almost impossible to swallow.
Twirling her fork between her fingers, she bit her lower lip and surreptitiously studied the man across from her.
They’d become friends, sort of, over the past few days, and she hated to ruin that…
but part of her needed to know if there was more simmering beneath the surface.
She slipped off her sandal and crossed her legs, shifting slightly closer to him as she did so.
She moved her foot experimentally, and she watched him stiffen as her toes brushed the inside of his calf.
Both of them froze, waiting for the other to move.
Her chest lifted and fell rapidly, and she fought to control her breathing as excitement and pleasure curled through her.
For several long minutes, they remained that way, both refusing to give an inch, either to pull away or to push for more.
“How is everything?”
The appearance of the waitress again made Irina drop her foot to the floor, and she watched Roman turn toward her.
“Good, thanks.” He offered a polite smile, apparently blissfully unaware of Gabi’s obvious interest.
Her gaze roved over the dark ink covering his arms. “I’ve always wanted a tattoo,” she gushed. “How many do you have?”
“A few dozen, maybe?” Roman looked thoughtful. “I lost count a while back. I’ve been adding to the collection for several years.”
Irina’s eyes widened as Gabi traced one design curling around his forearm. “I love this. How long did it take to do?”
“Ah…” He shifted slightly in his chair. “A couple hours.”
“Wow.” She smiled hugely. “Well, I’ll let you finish. Just let me know if you need anything,” she said as she stepped away, letting her gaze linger on Roman just a little too long.
Unable to comprehend what she’d just seen, Irina stared at Gabi’s back as she retreated inside the restaurant.
Her gaze bounced back to Roman, but he was focused on his food once more, and she swiveled her head toward the doors the waitress had disappeared through.
It was almost as if Gabi didn’t care that Irina was sitting right there.
She tossed her napkin on the table and slipped back into her sandals.
“I’ll be back. I have to use the bathroom. ”
She headed indoors, her eyes searching for the bathroom sign, and she cut across the dining room to the back corner.
After she used the bathroom, she stood at the sink washing her hands, studying her reflection in the mirror.
What was wrong with her? She knew she shouldn’t let the situation bother her so much, but she couldn’t reconcile the confusing mixture of feelings welling up inside.
Roman hadn’t given any indication of being attracted to the waitress, despite the fact that he was, in reality, an attractive single guy. Irritation flared at the memory of Gabi’s blatant ogling of the man who was—to the eyes of the public, at least—Irina’s husband.
She knew Gabi hadn’t missed the ring on his finger, because she’d watched her gaze drop to his left hand before greedily drinking him in again.
Irina understood where Gabi was coming from.
The sight of those tattoos peeking out from under the shirt, along with all those hard muscles, made her stupid.
She could no longer deny the attraction she felt to him, but he hadn’t given any indication of wanting her, either.
Irina knew she would be complicating matters, but she needed to know once and for all exactly where they stood. If nothing else, she was at least going to show the waitress that it wasn’t okay to ogle a man right in front of his wife—or temporary wife, as the case might be.
Tossing the paper towel in the trash, she straightened her shoulders and pulled open the door.
Her heart beat erratically, but she fought to keep her expression neutral as she stepped onto the deck and strode toward their table.
She bypassed her seat and rounded the table, headed straight for Roman.
His eyes widened a fraction, and almost as if he knew her intentions, he shoved his chair away from the table. Curving one arm around his neck, Irina slid onto his lap, heart pounding so hard she swore he could feel it slamming against her ribs where her chest brushed his.
“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was pitched low, and his warm breath hit her cheek as he spoke. “You’re drawing attention to us.”
Irina turned her head slightly and met his silvery blue gaze. “If either of us is drawing attention from someone, it’s you.”
One corner of his mouth kicked up in a smirk. “The waitress?”
She rolled her eyes. “Like you had to ask. I can’t believe she practically hit on you right in front of me.”
“Jealous?” His tone had a mocking quality to it, and she bristled.
“No,” she snapped. “It’s the principle of the thing.”
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. “Keep your voice down. People are looking.”
His words only served to irritate her even more, and she angled herself slightly away, her brows drawing down in anger. “Let them look. As far as she knows, we’re married, and it irks me that she keeps checking you out.”
His hand landed on her knee, then slid further up her thigh until it rested beneath the hem of her sundress. She sucked in a breath as his fingers drew little circles over her flesh, goosebumps exploding in their wake. “Keep it up, and you’re going to push me too far.”
Her heart skipped a beat, and her anger dissipated into thin air at his low spoken words. She opened her mouth to speak, but the pretty waitress materialized beside their table before she had the chance.
“Can I get you any dessert?”
“No, thanks,” Roman replied smoothly, a glint in his eyes. “I think my wife has something waiting for me at home.”
Irina was caught somewhere between shock and laughter, and she watched in bemusement as the waitress’s cheeks flared bright red. With a curt nod, she slid the checkbook onto the table. “Have a nice night.”
“Oh, we will.” Roman’s voice was filled with promise—though Irina knew that couldn’t bode well for her. She shifted on his lap, away from pinching fingers, and pressed her lips together to contain a smile as Gabi flew back to the kitchen.
As soon as she was gone, Irina turned back to him. “Wow. I wish I’d thought of that.”
He smiled, a pair of dimples carving small crescents into his cheeks. “Happy now?”
A sudden realization caught Irina off guard. She was happy. Most of the men she’d dated, especially in the music industry, had thrived on the attention they received from people. It was nice to see a man stand up for her, even if he was only pretending. “Thank you.”
His chin dipped in a nod, but she felt the need to explain. “No, really. I appreciate it. Anyone else I’ve dated would’ve flirted right back, maybe even gotten her number to call her later.”
Blue eyes stared into hers. “Then you haven’t been with the right men.”
Heat flared around her heart, sliding through her chest, then slithering lower until it pooled in her core. She held his gaze, unable to tear herself away as she slowly shook her head. “No, I haven’t.”