Page 168 of Bride By Initiation

"Sorry," I offer, for what feels like the hundredth time.

She grabs my hand. "At least Sean didn't fuck up your ring. My brother surprisingly picked well."

"He did," I agree, feeling a swell of pride as I stare at the most beautiful diamond I've ever seen. And in the family I come from, I've seen a lot of amazing bling over the years.

Fiona puts her lipstick in her purse. "Come on, let's go." She moves toward the door and opens it. She steps outside and runs into a man.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologizes with a familiar Russian accent. He grabs her as she falls backward, and tugs her into him.

Goose bumps race along my skin. I tense up, unable to keep myself from gaping at him.

A faded quarter-inch-wide scar mars his face. It starts at his right temple, moves diagonally over his eyelid, through his nose and cheek, and down to the left side of his jaw. He looks like a total bad boy, and would be great-looking if it weren't for the scar. He's wearing a designer black sports coat, black V-neck T-shirt, and dark jeans.

"I'm sorry," he repeats, pinning his dark gaze to hers. "Did I hurt you?"

I know that voice.

My heart pounds harder, and the hairs on my arms rise.

Fiona shakes her head and breathlessly states, "No, not at all."

He doesn't release her, peering at her closer as he says, "If I had to run into a woman, I couldn't have picked a better one. You're beautiful."

"Thank you. You're not bad yourself," Fiona replies, her cheeks flushing.

What is going on here?

Fiona would never say anything like that to a stranger. She'd play it cool and make him work harder for a compliment. And she wouldn't give a scarred-up man another look. She'd move right past him and onto the prettiestGQ-cover-worthy guy in the room.

He asks, "Can I buy you a drink? To make up for it."

"Sure."

It suddenly hits me who he is, and panic fills me. He may have worn a mask the entire ceremony, but I know that Russian-accented voice, and his height and build are the same.

Kirill.

Why is he here?

My insides quiver. "Fiona," I say, grabbing her arm.

The man jerks his head toward me, and his eyes widen, as if he's noticing me for the first time.

We stare at each other. My insides shake harder.

"Um, do you two know each other or something?" Fiona questions.

I hesitate, then lie, "No."

"I'm getting the impression you do," Fiona insists, giving me a look.

Kirill states, "I've definitely never met your friend."

I catch myself. "Yeah, I've never seen him. Besides, I would remember somebody that has—" I stop, realizing I shouldn't be pointing out his scar, and my cheeks heat.

His expression hardens. "It's okay. You can say it. Somebody with a scar like mine."

Fiona gives me a dirty look and turns back toward him. She reaches up and runs her finger over his cheek. "I think it's kind of sexy."

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