Page 44 of Between Us

When they entered the hotel's restaurant holdinghands, they were greeted by a smiling hostess. She led them to a table for two on the sunny terrace and informed them that their waiter will be attending to them shortly.

Halfway through their meal, Roman's phone started to ring. As he reached for it, Alessandra saw her father-in-law's name on the screen, and something cold settled in her chest. She didn't like the man one bit.

“Yeah,” Roman answered, sitting back in his chair. His eyes were covered by a pair of black shades, but Alessandra knew he was looking at her. “Two hours ago.”

She continued to eat hersoupe à l'oignon, her gaze drifting toward the infinite expanse of the sea. A silver super yacht was approaching harbor, its shiny paint glimmering like a precious jewel under the burning-hot sun. The French Riviera was packed with similar expensive boats belonging to some of the wealthiest people in the world.

“Andrei is handling it.” Roman let out a deep sigh, and Alessandra's eyes returned to her husband. By the tight set of his mouth, she knew he was getting irritated. “He can supervise things for two weeks, Vitaly—he's perfectly capable of it.” He paused, listened for a few more seconds before ending the call with, “Yeah, I'll let you know.”

The tension marring his face as he tossed the cell phone back on the table bothered Alessandra. He deserved to relax on their vacation, and she was going to do her damn best to ensure he did.

“So, I've decided on a college,” she said after a minute to divert his focus from his brief conversation with his father.

“Yeah?” He gave her a distracted smile, sipping on his water. “Which one?”

“The University of Chicago. They have one of the best business programs in the country.”

“That's nice, baby.” She could tell that his thoughts were elsewhere. He seemed to have a lot on his mind lately, something even Alessandra had noticed.

“I hope to get in, though. The competition is really high—they have an acceptance rate of only six percent. My GPA was good, but I don't know... I've lost a year already.”

The uncertainty in her voice seemed to snap Roman from his thoughts. “You'll get in.”

Alessandra shook her head with a faint smile. “How do you know?”

“If that's what you want, I’ll make sure you get in.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Roman. I don't want to bethatperson; the one who uses her husband's connections to get a place she doesn't deserve. I'll apply to other colleges, like everyone else, and see which one will have me.”

Roman removed his sunglasses and gave her a flat look. His blue eyes were breathtaking under the French summer sky. “I don't see what's wrong with using your connections. You think all those rich kids getting into Ivy League schools don't make use of their parents' money and well-placed relations?”

“I don't care about them. I want to get into UChicago because I've earned it, not because I bought my way into it.”

A smirk touched his lips. “Technically, you're still buying your way in. College tuition is a bitch.”

“Technically, you're right, but still, paying tuition isdifferent from bribing the right people.”

“For being the daughter of an Italian Don, you are too fucking sensitive to the mere idea of bribing someone. I'll need to teach you some things.”

Mildly irritated by his observation, Alessandra threw her cloth napkin at him. He caught it easily and laughed, his expression softening with his amusement. Despite the narrowing of her eyes, she found herself trying to ward off a smile.

Roman reached across the table and brought her hand to his lips, taking his time to kiss each knuckle. “Just messing with you,milaya.”

“What does it mean?

“Milaya? It can mean 'sweetheart' or 'a pretty girl', depending on the context.”

Pink tinted her cheeks as she absorbed his words. “Who knew you could be so sweet?”

He pinned her with those brilliant blues, his face growing serious again. “I can be many things for the right woman.”

Alessandra’s teeth sank into her lower lip, surprised by his forwardness. He was usually one to speak his mind, but he’d never done so when it came to their relationship. “Am I? The right woman, I mean.”

And, with two simple words, he managed to melt her heart. “You are.”

???

“I still can't believe you rented a yacht,” Alessandra murmured from her spot on the cushiony sunbed. Her already tanned skin was being scorched by the midday sun, and she was loving every minute of it. Beside her,Roman was doing something on his phone.

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