Page 83 of Kadra: The Unfeeling

“I’m not,” I argue, feeling flustered.

“Good.” He shakes his head lightly and smiles as if he finds this conversation amusing.

Instead, I laugh at his ridiculousness. For someone who takes lives so easily and without remorse, my Russian sure does have a grand sense of humor.

Instead of giving in, I changed the topic trying to end his torture.

“You know Spanish…” I ask, feeling more irritated than before now that I know they have at least one thing in common. The sexual and exotic language. Great.

Vitali gets comfortably in his seat and I’m hyper aware of his gloved hand inching closer to mine. “Enough to get by.”

“Any other languages?”

“Russian, of course, Spanish and a little bit of French.” Impressive. I never would have guessed. Looking at him now, I realized just how much more there is about this man. I haven’t even scraped the surface. Being around him and discovering new things about him every day is almost like a big and grand adventure. One I never had and one that keeps catching me off guard. “You?” he asks, snapping me out of my head.

I reach with a gloved finger and touch the tip of the knife that was placed next to my plate. “Just Italian. Only enough that I don’t seem like a jerk when I’m visiting the country, asking for things like the bathroom and cussing people out.” It’s true. Gabriele made us learn his language from the time we learned to talk but unlike my sisters, I rebelled against him not caring about learning his language. Why would I celebrate something he was proud of? It’s silly I know and perhaps very immature but it made me feel as if I had a little bit of power so I ran with it. I rebelled against traditions and I’m still doing it to this day. I’ll do it till my last breath too.

Then Vitali chuckles. “You’re funny.” He is looking at me weirdly. “Funny and adorable. A tempting combination, love.”

Tender eyes.

Ugh, this man.

“Is that something you say to every woman you meet?” I blurted, regretting it a second later when his face lit up. Triumph evident in his eyes. “Don’t.” I lift my hand, stopping him from answering. He has some good sense and instead he is the one changing the topic now.

“Have I told you how breathtaking you look tonight?” He says without taking his eyes off my face. Heat creeps up my neck and I worry he can tell I’m blushing.

Clearing my throat, I drag my eyes off the man. “You have. Several times in fact.”

He laughs.

How is he so comfortable while I feel so out of my element?

“Here you go.” A friendly voice interrupted our silent conversation.

Saved by the flirty waitress.

Graciela places my margarita in front of me and then gives Vitali his drink.

“Thank you.” This time I’m the one who speaks first. I might’ve had a momentary lapse of judgment but I still have manners and this woman has done nothing wrong.

Except flirting with your man…

I scoffed, not realizing I did it out loud.

Obviously, I need my head examined.

“Are you okay?” Vitali asks while a huge grin takes over his face. Oh, I bet the cocky bastard is loving this.

Ignoring him, I take a sip of my drink and then turn my gaze towards our waitress. “We’re ready to order.”

“We are?” Vitali raises a dark brow looking smug.

“Yes.” I snap my eyes away from him and address the waitress instead. “I would like the carne asada al cilantro.” I clear my throat, feeling a bit self-conscious about my Spanish. When silence follows my request, I raise my gaze to find both of them looking at me. One with a happy smile on her face and my Russian’s gaze is heated.

“Y usted señor?” She asks Vitali while writing my order down.

My Russian gives me one heated look before handing the girl his menu. “Pescado en Achiote.”

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