Page 36 of Craving Dahlia

“I’m so glad you decided to come down,” she says brightly, but I can see the tiniest bit of worry in her eyes—which I’m sure is related to what’s going to happen when Alek and I have to sit across from each other at the table.

“I thought it would be good to not hide upstairs all night.” I go to sit next to Evelyn, who reaches for the crystal pitcher of water in the center of the table and pours some into the glass.

“I’ll tell the staff to get you a place setting,” she says, getting up quickly, and I’m momentarily left alone with Dimitri.

“I know the circumstances are—less than pleasant,” Dimitri says carefully, looking at me as he reaches for his glass of wine. “But I think of you as a sister already, Dahlia, with how close you and Evelyn are. I’m glad that’s going to become a reality.”

The look on his face is kind, and some of my irritation over how he tried to strong-arm Alek and I into a wedding from the start fades. Evelyn has told me many times, when it comes to things about the two of them that I haven’t entirely understood, that Dimitri is the product of a world that’s very different from what Evelyn or I are used to. To him, this feels right and normal, and I know he’s making an effort to understand that I don’t feel the same.

Evelyn comes back a moment later, two of the staff behind her—one holding an extra place setting for me, and the other pushing a cart with what I assume is the first course of dinner on it. Dimitri frowns, looking past them as Evelyn comes to sit down between him and I again.

“Of course he’s running late,” Dimitri mutters, as the soup and salad course are served—a Caesar salad and a thick bisque with bits of crab and a slice of lemon on top.

Maybe he just won’t come down for dinner at all.I feel a momentary flicker of hope that it will just be the three of us, until a few seconds later, just as I’m about to take a bite of the soup, the sound of footsteps click against the wooden floor just outside.

Speak of the devil.Alek steps into the room, and my traitorous body clenches at the sight of him, even as my stomach drops at the prospect of spending any amount of time trying to eat dinner sitting across from him. He’s wearing black jeans and a fitted charcoal t-shirt with long sleeves, tattoos visible across the backs of his hands and up his neck, and somehow, in the quiet elegance of the dining room, the scar on his face seems to stand out like a brand.

None of it does anything to make him less handsome. He’s still utterly gorgeous, prowling towards his chair like a wolf, and I try not to think about how much I enjoyed letting him eat me.

His expression darkens the moment he sees me, but he drops into his chair, not meeting my eyes as he reaches for his silverware. He takes a bite of his soup, and I can feel the tension in the room thicken, as if we’re all waiting for him to say something.

Alek looks up after a moment. “I didn’t think you’d join us,” he says flatly, his gaze finally meeting mine, harsh and dark.

I swallow hard, and I can’t force anything past the tightness in my throat. Evelyn speaks up for me, her shoulders stiff.

“Why not?” she asks sharply, and I feel a pang for the position she’s been put in now—caught between the fact that she’s my best friend, and the fact that Alek is Dimitri’s brother.

Alek looks at her, then at me, and turns his attention back to his food, saying nothing else.

“Once you’re settled in, you should go check out the stables on the estate property,” Evelyn says, turning to me as she quickly changes the topic. “I know you used to ride when we were in college, and before that. You might enjoy seeing them.”

“I’d like that.” It’s the best I can manage, my throat still tight, and I barely hear as Dimitri turns the conversation elsewhere, making small talk as silverware clinks against bowls.

The food is delicious—the salad and crab bisque are some of the best I’ve ever tasted, and the main course is an incredible duck bolognese with apple shavings on top, followed by a dessert of chocolate souffles. But I only manage a few bites of each course, my stomach turning over and over on itself as I try not to look at Alek, and worry that I might not be able to keep dinner down.

He doesn’t say a word throughout the entire meal. He finishes his dessert, drains the glass of wine next to his plate, and stands up abruptly, tossing his napkin down on the table before turning and stalking out of the room.

Evelyn presses her lips together, and Dimitri’s expression darkens. He starts to get up, too, but Evelyn touches his hand, and he stops.

“Maybe he just needs time,” she says quietly. “You said he hasn’t talked about what happened at all.”

Dimitri’s jaw tightens, but he nods. “I’ve been trying to give him time,” he says, his voice also low, almost as if they don’t want me to hear what they’re saying. “I’ve tried not to press him for answers. But he’s going to have to open up eventually, if we’re going to move past this?—”

“You don’t even know whatthisis.” Evelyn shakes her head. “We’ll talk about it later,” she adds, glancing over at me. “I don’t think Dahlia wants to deal with this tonight.”

I’m not even sure what they’re talking about. But the memory of those scars against my own skin comes back to me, the feelingof ravaged flesh in the darkness, and I wonder what else is lurking under my husband-to-be’s surface that I can’t begin to imagine.

—

There’san intentional cheeriness to Evelyn’s mood in the morning that I know is for my benefit. She has someone send breakfast up to me—cinnamon French toast and fruit with orange juice—and I’m halfway through trying to nibble at it while dealing with my morning nausea when she knocks on my door.

“Ready to go dress shopping?” she asks with a bright smile, and I look at her pointedly. She lets out a sigh.

“I know.” She drops down onto the bed next to me, plucking a bit of apple out of the bowl of fruit. “I’m just trying to help you make the best of it, is all. I have an appointment at the same salon we went to for my wedding dress. And once again, I have a credit card that we can put it all on.” She flashes me another smile. “We can at least enjoy spending Dimitri’s money, right?”

I do laugh at that—I can’t help it. “That does make it a little better,” I agree. “And it will be nice to have a girls’ day.”

“I invited Genevieve, too,” Evelyn says. “She’s going to meet us for coffee before we head over to the appointment.”

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