Page 37 of The Pakhan's Sold Bride

My heart warms towards him. I even find myself leaning into him when he talks to me, and he places his hand on my leg beneath the table, sending a wild thrill of desire through me.

Why can’t he be like this all of the time?

As soon as I think the words, my mind snaps into action, lecturing me on being careful. I can’t be getting soft like this. I don’t know anything about him; hekidnapped me.

Yet still, I’m really enjoying myself.

“Can I dish up some more for you, darling?” Letica asks, standing up and offering to take my plate.

“Oh, no, thank you, that was amazing.”

“Chef Bruno makes the best lamb shanks in the world. And I should know. I’ve been to many places.” She beams at me.

“Mom loves to travel,” Nestor explains.

“I hope to travel too one day,” I smile.

“Where have you been so far?” Ulyana asks.

“Oh, nowhere yet, but I want to go to Cambodia, to see those beautiful old temples in the jungle.”

“You haven’t beenanywhere?” she gasps in horror.

“Perhaps we can go there for our honeymoon.” Nestor’s eyes shine with mischief.

I grin but look down to hide it.

“Sorry, we’re late,” a loud voice booms into the dining room, and I look up to see two other people arriving.

“You’re past late,” Leticia smiles at the older man. “But you’re lucky there is still some food left, sit down.”

“Thanks, my love,” the older man says. “Who is this?”

I glance towards Nestor, sensing tension from him.

His face is scowling as he glares at the two men.

“This is Lara, my wife. Lara, this is Sergei, and his son, Miron.” Nestor gestures coldly towards both of them.

“I’m Nestor’s stepfather,” Sergei says, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Hello.” Miron nods, looking sour. He turns towards Nestor with a nasty expression on his face. “Wife? You snuck away and got married in secret? Were you too ashamed to get married in front of us?” he says coldly.

“It was an intimate affair, by invite only,” Nestor snaps.

“Mm. I can’t imagine I would have wanted to be there.” Miron sits down, his mouth pulled into a sneer.

“You would have been the last person on earth I’d invite,” Nestor growls beneath his breath.

I look to Leticia and Sergei, but they are chatting about something else and seem oblivious to this horrible tension.

Miron stands up again, slamming his fists on the table. “I’m not good enough for you? Is that what you’re saying? Your arrogance gets worse every time I see you, brother,” he snarls.

“Brother? Not in a million years, Miron. You are no family of mine.”

“Boys,” Leticia says, her face contorted with disappointment. “Please, we’ve spoken about this—"

Nestor stands up as well, leaning on the table and glaring at Miron. “This boy can’t keep his mouth closed long enough to show respect.”

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