Page 38 of The Bratva's Arranged Virgin Bride
“Here we go,” he said.
“No, there we go,” I told him, already crossing the street to the darling little stationery shop. “Look at those sketchbooks.”
I paused to drool at the linen-covered books, bright as the jewels in the window across the street. Kolya caught up to me.
“As far as I know, you don’t have a single piece of jewelry, but your studio is stacked with sketchbooks.”
I shook my head, tutting at him. “Didn’t you know that you can never have enough? It’s a rule.”
“Well, I’m big on following rules,” he said, heading into the shop.
Cracking up, I followed, feeling buoyant and carefree. I had a car, was about to get a shopping bag full of pretty sketchbooks—maybe I’d even let Kolya have some fun and buy me a necklace.
Laden down after just one shop, we meandered along the row, pausing at almost every window, going in when something caught our eyes. It surprised me that Kolya wanted to look at some fishing lures. I never knew he took part in such a chill and slow-paced hobby. He was the complete opposite of chill and slow-paced.
He sheepishly admitted he hadn’t yet, but wanted to one day, now that he lived in a place where the weather was always nice and there was water all around. We discussed Russia. He didn’t miss it at all, and I had only visited during the summers in my childhood.
We carefully avoided the topic of Italy, though he did ask me what I planned to do now that I had completed my studies.
“Be a perfect wife,” I said, batting my eyelashes at him.
He guffawed loud enough to turn heads in the small café we were resting in. “Perhaps more studies are in order.”
I swiped at him, but laughed. He was clearly teasing, and we both ignored the fact that this was an arrangement, a business deal, nothing more. But it kind of felt like more just then. And I didn’t hate it.
I didn’t hatehim.
Then we moved on, and soon, Kolya pulled me into a small art gallery. We’d passed several already, and normally, I was eager to check out all sorts of new art, but I’d been studiously ignoring them. Once inside, I knew why. Memories lashed at me. Maybe him, too, because we both stopped chatting and laughing, going inward.
It was too much like the little slice of heaven I had created for myself in Milan. So much hard work, so much love and care put into it. Gone.
I also remembered the good times we had, not unlike these, but of course, so much different. We hadn’t been married then, arranged or not. I thought I was falling for him. They weren’t just good times, they were the best of my life, and they’d led up to the worst. The feeling of having everything stolen from me was hard to get past, no matter how charming and generous Kolya was now. How long would it last this time around?
Pushing my own memories aside, I was curious about what had him clamming up. He remained reticent even after we left the gallery and began walking back to my car.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
He took my hand, twining our fingers together. “I’m just nervous about dinner with your family tomorrow.”
That was a lie. Kolya didn’t get nervous. I couldn’t call him out on it, not without getting into a fight I didn’t want to have.
On the drive back, we were able to get things back to a lighter note, but something hung between us. My memories and whatever he wasn’t sharing. I now had the means to find out.
By the time we got back to the beach house, I was determined to eradicate the strange tension neither of us wanted to admit was still heavy in the air since leaving the gallery. At the very least, we’d need to present a united front for my cousins the next day.
“Why don’t you go on up and get a shower?” he suggested, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “I’ll make my famous sandwiches.”
I smiled brightly, tipping my chin up for a kiss on the lips. He obliged, giving me a gentle nudge toward the stairs afterward.
“Don’t forget bacon,” I called as I headed up. “If you’re lucky, I’ll make chocolate chip cookies for dessert. They’re my specialty.” They were the only thing I could make.
His laughter rang out to me, and I was sure we had gotten rid of the strange specter. My feelings were under control, no longer worked up by memories of what I lost. He seemed to have pushed aside whatever had been bothering him.
After my shower, I put on a light sundress and the new necklace with a tiny jade pendant I’d let him buy me, and skipped down the stairs. I expected the smell of frying bacon and grilled chicken to meet me, but there was nothing but the slightly salty breeze off the ocean from the open windows leading out to the deck.
Kolya wasn’t in the kitchen, and it didn’t look like he’d gone in there at all. Running through the house, I searched for him, thinking he might have wanted a shower before he startedcooking. He wasn’t in his bathroom, or out on the beach, or anywhere else.
He just left without a word, probably planning it all along, getting me in the shower so he’d have time to slip away. Which meant he suspected I’d be following him as soon as I got the chance.
He wasn’t giving me the chance. Once again, he had the upper hand, always thinking ahead.
