Page 50 of Solemn Vow

“You were too busy noticing him.” She hides her grin in her cup of tea.

“Please,” I scoff and toss a pillow at her. She dodges it easily and knocks it to the floor.

“The pillow fights are starting already?” Andrei comes in.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?” Izzy asks, looking up at her husband as though he just hung the moon for her.

“Already finished.” Andrei leans over Izzy and kisses her. “You were supposed to study while I was working.” He taps the anatomy textbook sitting closed between us on the couch.

“I studied until Marlena got here.” She smiles.

Viktor comes over to where I’m sitting and tugs on my hair until I lean back and look up at him.

“You behaving?” he asks, his mouth hovering right over mine. The heavy scent of whisky is evident.

“Always,” I say softly, closing my eyes when he kisses me. This is dangerous, how easily he calms my mind with a simple touch.

“Good.” He taps the tip of my nose.

Sergei walks into the office, stops when he sees us, and his frown intensifies.

“I didn’t know the girls were here,” he says. Pavel walks in behind him with a glass in his hand half full of a dark liquid. I’ve seen him at Izzy’s place enough times to know he’s one of them. “I thought we’d play a few rounds of Durak.”

Viktor moves the textbook and sits on the couch, dragging me onto his lap as he takes my seat on the couch.

“Are you in a hurry to get home?” he asks.

“Not really. Think I can play?” I’ve seen them play the game a few times since Izzy married Andrei, and I think I have the rules down pretty good.

Viktor looks at Sergei and grins. “Sure, you can.”

Sergei rolls his eyes. “Fine. They can play.” Sergei throws a hand through the air.

“I’ll just watch,” Izzy answers.

“Do you guys play any other games, like Poker or Gin?” I ask.

Viktor shrugs. “Sometimes.”

Sergei has the table in the middle of the room cleared off and pulls chairs from around the office for us to sit.

“I never even heard of this game before Andrei played it with you guys; where’d you learn it?” Izzy asks, taking a seat beside her husband at the table.

“It’s a popular game back home,” Viktor says, taking the cards and shuffling.

“He learned it in the Gulag,” Sergei answers at the same time.

Viktor stops shuffling to give Sergei a dark glare.

My gaze flies to Viktor. “You were in prison?”

He pinches two fingers together. “Only for a little while. I was young.”

That probably explains the battle scars on his body. The tattoos cover some of them, but there are still faint white lines that can be seen through the dark ink.

“The trump is club.” Viktor shows the card he pulls from the middle of the deck before handing it to Sergei. “You play dealer.”

“How young?” I catch the cards Sergei deals around the table.

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