Page 73 of Keeping Ruby

“Don’t look so surprised. Volk Vault Bank is heavily involved in multiple charities.”

“And what is this weekend’s charity?”

“Children. Orphaned children, specifically.”

I feel my face soften. No, I feel my entire body soften. “I would be honored to accompany you.”

“As my wife?”

I feel my breath catch but try to hide it with a scoop of pie. “Is that not what I am?”

His grin is slow. He’s not deterred at all by the fact that I’ve just taken a nibble of pie. He bends down and kisses me.

Thirty-Three

Ruby

I’ve never worn a gown quite like the one I wear now. The corset is crafted of lace that offers peek-a-boos of pale flesh, while the skirt bushels in heaps gauzy fabric flecked with gold that dance in the low light of the ballroom.

My hair is twisted to fall in delicate curls over one bare shoulder. Tatiana had made a day of dressing me for tonight, and I had to admit the look on my husband’s face was entirely worth it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man look at a woman the way he looked at me.

He dips his head close to my ear, rumbling quietly, “I don’t know how I feel about this.”

I tip my smoky eyes to his. “What?”

His hand around my waist pulses, and I glance down to see his fingers curl into me. Holding me just a little tighter. “Every man is looking at you as though you’re a treat they would like to eat.”

I flush, scandalized. “They are not.”

“Yes, wife, they are.”

“No one wants to eat anyone.”

“Again, not true. I have every intention of eating you tonight.” His eyes drift hungrily over my body. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, releasing it with a violent scrape. “Fuck—that dress.”

“You bought it.” The words fall as an accusation, but in truth, I love this dress. I’ve never felt so beautiful in my entire life.

“I asked Tatiana to order it weeks ago. My only specification was the color.”

“Why cream?”

His eyes burn. “I never got to see you in a wedding dress.”

I swear, my heart seizes. I have no words, but I don’t need any as he spins me onto the floor. We dance until I complain that my feet ache, and I need to pee. Kirill points out the bathroom as a few men in fancy suits see their chance to talk to him, and I slip away. I feel his eyes on me as I move across the ballroom to the bathroom. He has a man posted at every exit, so I know I’m safe.

It's as I’m washing my hands that the door opens, and a shockingly beautiful woman appears. She’s sleek in a way I could never hope to be. Her dark hair shines in the low light, her olive skin a deep contrast to my pale, freckle spackled flesh.

I offer her a smile, and her cat-like green eyes narrow just faintly on me before her red-painted lips spread wide. There is something alarmingly false about the way she introduces herself, “I am Anya. It is good to meet you, Ruby.”

She knows my name?

I’m surprised she speaks English at all, though. Most of the people I’ve met tonight, don’t.

She laughs at my obvious shock, both that she knows my name, and that she speaks English. There’s a note of bitterness in it, however, that has me on edge.

Cautiously, but undeniably curiously, I say, “Hello.”

“I don’t speak all English. But some. Enough.”

---