Page 114 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)

But there’s nothing modest about the shoes she’s got on. High heeled stilettos in a luxurious black leather.

Only her shoulders are bare for me to see. And yet, she manages to look like sex walking.

Her blonde hair floats buoyantly as she makes her way toward the table with William walking behind her like he’s escorting a princess.

I stand when she approaches. Her eyebrows hit the ceiling. The fact that she thinks chivalry is beneath me is somewhat amusing, so I shrug off the implied insult.

Let her think I’m a brute. I don’t give a fuck what she thinks of me, really.

It’s what I think of her that determines what happens next.

William pulls out the opposite chair and she slips into it gracefully. I notice that she’s trying very hard to avoid my eyes.

“I’ll bring the menus in a moment, sir,” William says graciously.

“Spasibo,William,” I growl in Russian.

As soon as he walks away, I turn my attention on Elyssa. She’s wringing her hands together nervously and biting her lip at the same time.

She doesn’t just look out of place in this luxurious restaurant. She looks out of place in her own skin.

“What would you like to drink?” I ask.

She jumps at the rasp of my voice, though she tries not to let me see it. “Water’s fine.”

“Water it is. I like your dress.”

Instantly, her cheeks blush red. “Charity forced me to get it. I thought it was… too much.”

“It’s exactly enough.”

The blush gets deeper. “I don’t have any place to wear it.”

“You’re wearing it now,” I point out.

“This is the first and last time I’ll ever be in a restaurant this fancy,” she says, her gaze flickering over the swans outside the window.

“Never say never.”

When she takes a breath, I realize how hard she’s trying to compose herself. “What is this?” she blurts, cutting to the chase. “And don’t just say ‘dinner.’”

“But that’s precisely what it is.”

She eyes me suspiciously. But I don’t miss the fascination in her gaze. She’s curious about me. More so than she wants to be.

“No,” she retorts, her voice getting less shaky. “It’s something else. There’s an ulterior motive here.”

I smile and spread my hands. “You’re looking for something that’s not there,krasotka.”

“I know what you think of me,” she continues.

I chuckle. “Somehow, I doubt that, little lamb.I doubt that very much.” I wave my hand at her and add, “But go on. Tell me what you think I’m thinking. Tell me what you think I’m thinking.”

She shivers, the blond hairs on her arms prickling up despite the warmth in the room. She eyes me warily for a moment, then sets her jaw and straightens up.

Brave littlekiska,I think.You’ve got fire in you after all.

“You think I’m some naïve, empty-headed idiot. Or you think I’m a lying, scheming spy. Honestly, I don’t know which is worse.”

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