Page 67 of The Pakhan's Sold Bride

The kiss lasts much longer than a photograph would need.

When he pulls away, my lips are swollen from it, and my eyes are taking him in with a hungry need.

“How do you know the photo was taken?” I ask.

“It was a burst shot. It took about thirty shots with a little gap in between each one.”

I smile and shake my head. “Very creative.”

“Well, I think maybe it’s time to update my profile picture, or perhaps I’ll send it to my PR team and have them do a candid release.” He winks, slipping his hand around my waist as we walk back to our table.

The restaurant isn’t busy. It’s an intimate, calm setting, and it allows us to talk freely, enjoying our dinner together.

Nestor is attentive and sweet, reaching out beneath the table to leave his hand on my leg, pulling my chair closer, and letting our legs press together.

His warmth teases me. So do his eyes. Beautiful, deep, passionate eyes. The most gorgeous hazel. Green mixed with flakes of golden brown and yellow.

I could stare at them for hours, listening to him tell me stories.

On the way home, we are still chatting and happy as the conversation flows easily. I’m so comfortable around him, it takes me by surprise sometimes. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this comfortable around a man before. My father wasn’t exactly a shining example of what a relationship should be like. I was taken on a few dates in my life, but my mom was sick, and I didn’t have much time for it. And then, after she passed away, I was drowning in debt and stress, and eventually, I just gave up looking for love or connection.

At home, Nestor leads me in through the front door.

“Would you like a nightcap or a cup of tea?”

“Hot chocolate. I’ve been thinking about it the whole way home,” I grin, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him.

“Even after the chocolate brownie?”

“Actually, I think it is because of the chocolate brownie. It’s a downward spiral now. I’ll go on a three-day chocolate bender, and if I can’t get enough of it, I’ll turn feral.” I wink at him.

He smirks. “I might hide the chocolate then. I would love to see you feral.”

“Sir.” Roan clears his throat loudly, stepping towards us.

“Roan, hi, what’s up?” Nestor says, still smiling from our flirtations.

“Sir, I have news for you. We just heard.”

“What is it?” Nestor asks, sounding tense in response to Roan’s tone.

“Sergei is dead.”

For a moment, neither of us moves, both staring at Roan in shock and disbelief.

“Dead?” Nestor mutters.

“Yes, sir. He was on his way home from an event outside of town, and there was what appears to have been an accident. He was killed instantly.”

“My mother—?” His throat is tight around the words; he can barely ask the question.

“She was not with him, sir. Your mother is home. Your sister is with her. I sent a few extra men to guard the house just in case there was something we missed.”

“I have to call her,” Nestor says, looking bewildered. “She’ll need me.”

“Yes, sir. Of course. I will let you know once my men bring me any more information. But from everything we’ve heard and seen, it was an accident.”

Chapter 19 - Nestor

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