Page 77 of Filthy Promises

My heart stops. The Polaroid. Is he going to find it now?

But his hand moves away without retrieving anything, and I exhale slowly.

“Rowan has been an unexpected asset,” Vince says, his eyes locked on me. “Full of surprises.”

The double meaning isn’t lost on me.

Or on Katerina, it seems.

“I’m sure she is,” Kat murmurs, her gaze shifting between us thoughtfully. “The best ones always are.”

Our appetizers arrive—steak for Vince, scallops for Katerina, calamari for me. I pick at my food, anxiety growing with each passing minute.

When will he find the photo? What will happen when he does?

Katerina and Vince fall into conversation about mutual acquaintances. I listen attentively, noting how much more comfortable Vince seems with her than he did with Irina.

They have chemistry, these two. Not romantic necessarily, but a natural rapport built on years of shared history. I feel a pang of something that might be jealousy, might be regret for what I’ve done.

“Excuse me,” Vince says after our main courses are cleared away. “I need to take this call.”

He pulls out his phone and steps away from the table, leaving me alone with Katerina.

She watches him walk away, then turns to me with a direct gaze. “So. How long have you been in love with him?”

I choke on my wine. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t bother denying it.” Her smile is sympathetic. “It’s written all over your face whenever you look at him.”

“I—I don’t—” I stammer, mortified.

“It’s okay.” She reaches across the table to pat my hand. “Your secret is safe with me.”

I take a deep breath. “We’re just colleagues.”

“Of course.” She sits back, still smiling. “Though I’m curious why he brought his ‘just colleague’ to what’s supposed to be a date to determine his future wife.” When I don’t answer, she continues, “Unless, of course, there’s something else going on.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I lie.

“I think you do.” Katerina takes a sip of her wine. “Vincent’s father is pushing him into a marriage of convenience. An alliance, not a love match. And Vincent is fighting it the only way he knows how.”

“By bringing his assistant along?”

“By showing his father he’s already made his choice.”

My heart hammers against my ribs. “You’re mistaken.”

“Am I?” She glances toward where Vince stands, phone to his ear. “Watch what happens when he comes back. Watch how his eyes find you first, not me.”

I want to protest further, but Vince is already returning to the table.

And just as Katerina predicted, his eyes seek me out before settling on her.

“Sorry about that,” he says, sliding back into his seat. “Business emergency.”

“It’s always business with you Akopovs,” Katerina teases. “Some things never change.”

As they resume their conversation, I notice Vince shifting in his seat again, his hand going once more to his inside pocket.

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