Page 34 of Dancing With Desire

We leavean hour later with a completely new wardrobe. I slide into the front seat of his Range Rover and slip off my heels while he loads the bags into the back. I sigh at the gorgeous six-inch heels, realising I’ll soon need to exchange these for something more suitable.

Dmitry gets in the driver’s side. “Lunch?” he asks, and I’m almost taken aback that he’s asking what I want to do rather than ordering me. I bite on my lower lip, wondering if my next question might ruin his mood. I don’t want to spoil the rest of the day. He reaches over, pulling my lip free. “What is it, mykrasota?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head, reaching for my seatbelt and thinking better of my idea.

“Victoria,” he growls, and I offer him a weak smile. “Speak to me. Tell me what’s going on in that beautiful little head of yours.”

“I don’t want to spoil the day,” I mutter.

He places his hand on my knee, lightly grazing my skin with the tips of his fingers. “I promise it won’t.”

“I want you to take me to V’s.” I look away, waiting for his automatic refusal.

He sighs heavily, and I brace myself. “Why?” he asks, and I sense he’s running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“I just want to see what you own with her,” I explain, turning back to look at him. “I want to know more about your life.”

He stares at me for a few seconds before nodding and starting the engine. I frown. I was expecting his protest, but I feel relieved it hasn’t spoiled his mood, even though I can see his jaw tensing.

Ten minutes later, he opens the door for me, escorting me into V’s while holding my hand tightly. I look around, appreciating how beautiful the place is. I see why he’d want shares in the business—it’s lunchtime and the place is bustling.

He leads me towards the bar and pulls out a seat for me, placing a tender kiss on my head as I slide onto it. “Two waters, please,” he asks the barman.

“Of course, Mr. Volkov. Are you having a good day?” asks the barman, grabbing the bottles and two glasses. He fills them with ice and a slice of lemon.

“I am, thank you, Walter. This is Victoria, my wife-to-be.” I glow at his introduction.

Walter smiles. “Lovely to meet you,” he says, placing the bottles in front of us, followed by the two glasses. “Let me know if you need anything else.” And he goes on to serve the other waiting customers.

“It’s beautiful here,” I say, looking around, “and busy.”

“This is quiet compared to how busy it gets later.” He leans in closer to my ear. “And maybe, one day, it will be yours.” He places a kiss on my cheek before picking up a bottle and filling my glass, then filling his own.

“I’m not sure I’d want something that belonged to that dirty skank,” I admit, adding a laugh as I scan the room looking for the devil herself.

“Well, someone will have to run it—” He’s stops mid-sentence, and I follow his line of vision to see Vivian approaching us.

She isn’t her usual confident self as she manoeuvres through the crowd. “Lovely to see you both,” she says stiffly. No air kisses today or inappropriate touching, and I almost want to high-five Dmitry that she’s finally got the message.

“Victoria wanted to see the place,” Dmitry offers, his playful tone from earlier disappearing.

“It’s certainly come a long way since the joint ownership. It wouldn’t have been possible without the support of your father,” she says firmly, and I hear the venom in her tone.

“I’m sure shagging the head of the Bratva has to come with some perks, because you clearly aren’t with him for his stamina,” I scoff, and she turns to me.

Her face reddens, and I wait for the barrage of abuse, but Dmitry interrupts by grabbing my hand and standing from his chair. “Come, mykrasota. Let’s get you some lunch.”

He gently pulls me from my seat. I rest my hand on the small swell of my stomach and see Vivian’s eyes follow the movement. “Yes, this baby needs feeding if he’s going to be big and strong like his father,” I reply, arching a brow at her.

Her jaw twitches as she battles with herself not to rise to my words and instead offers a fake smile. “Of course, you both know you are welcome here anytime,” she gushes, full of fakeness.

Dmitry places his hand on the small of my back and leads me out the bar.

I stop him in the doorway, turning and placing a tender kiss against his lips. He smiles. “Thank you,” I whisper.

DMITRY

I eyeVictoria across the table, marvelling at her beauty despite the way she’s ramming her food in. We’ve come to my favourite Italian restaurant for lunch, and as she shovels her food, I smile, appreciating the fact she’s eating well after losing so much weight.

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