Page 82 of Sinful Promise

Roman approaches the table first and pulls a chair out for me. I smooth my dress behind my buttocks and try to look elegant as I sit. He takes his place at the head of the table to my left, and Alex sits beside me. Irina and Francesca seat themselves across from me.

The place settings are exquisite. Each plate has the initials RV monogrammed in gold. The number of different utensils is mind-boggling. I’ll need to watch the others to see what to use with each course.

Now that I’ve had a taste of the good life, why would I ever flee? I don’t want to go home, and life alone would not be easy. What would I do for a living? How would I pay for basic necessities like rent, food, and utilities? That’s a struggle for most couples, and I’m one person. A passport is my ticket to a fresh start, but where would I go, and how would I go about starting over in a new country?

Roman still has not mentioned anything about seeing me on camera snooping in his closet. How many other cameras are hidden, and how much is recorded?

When our martini glasses are empty, they are replaced by wine glasses. The chief steward opens a chilled bottle of white wine and pours some into each glass as she explains how it will pair well with the seafood.

The first course is brought out, and a bowl of black shells is placed in front of each of us.

“Mussels in lemon butter sauce,” Roman states for my benefit after seeing the befuddled look on my face.

I place the gold-colored cloth napkin in my lap and watch Irina extract the mussel from the shell. I pick up the same tiny fork she’s using and do the same. It’s delicious. The buttery sauce is so good, I could lick the bowl.

Our empty plates are whisked away, and wine glasses are topped off without asking.

“So, what’s new, Roman?” Francesca asks, leaning back in her chair.

“I spoke to Andrian, and he bragged about having my father killed. Now my brothers are taking precautions to protect the rest of the family.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get him,” Irina states with confidence as she lifts a wine glass to her lips. “Make no mistake about it. I’ve waited years for this.” She sips and puts the glass down.

Roman leans back and drapes his arm over the back of his chair. “I never dreamed it would come to this. However, it’s a stroke of luck we happened upon him and his plan to systematically pick off each member of my family.”

“He’s a scourge that needs to be eliminated from the planet,” Francesca says, reaching for her water glass.

I get the feeling that Andrian irks her. More importantly, she’s supporting Irina. I would, too. Katsia is my ride-or-die, and I’d have her back. In fact, I need to ask Roman if I can call her again. There might be an update.

Andrian deserves to die. He’s profited from selling innocent women and children. There is no way I would ever let him touch me. Roman said that whoever touches me, dies. Well, this is one manIwant to burn.

The next course is a salad made of arugula, goat cheese, and pistachios with a balsamic vinaigrette.

I listen to Irina and Francesca converse in Italian and wish I knew what they were saying. It’s a pretty language. They must not be spilling secrets because the crew can hear them, and some of them speak Italian.

I glance at Roman. He’s pensive, which doesn’t surprise me. Talking about Andrian is ruining my appetite.

Roman looks into my eyes. “Let’s save the unsavory aspects of our enemy until after dinner,” he says, as if reading my mind.

“Great idea,” Alex says. “I hate to think of that cocksucker while we have all these beautiful women and delicious food around us.” He lifts his glass. “A toast! May we be brave, strong, and conquer all.”

We all lift our wine glasses and tap each other’s stemware. “To our health,” we say unanimously.

“I, for one, want to thank you, Roman, for this trip.” Francesca raises her glass in another toast. “I’ve had fun for the first time in a long time, and I’m going to miss you all.”

“I don’t know if you’ll have time to miss us.” Irina gives Roman an inquisitive look that he ignores. “We tend to find a way to see each other.” She looks at me. “When we get to Monaco, our work will be just beginning. We’re making the world safer.”

Her smile takes some of the edge off her words.

Roman clears his throat and drinks water like he’s swallowing words he can’t express. What is his deal tonight? He seems jumpy. No way is he afraid of Andrian. Roman is realistic, yes. But fearful? I don’t think so. What else could be bothering him?

Following Francesca’s lead, I lift the smaller of the two forks and pierce the finely chopped arugula. Something soft touches my leg. I flinch and look around the table to see if anyone noticed.

My eyes land on Roman. His hand is on my leg. A warm sensation builds between my thighs as he caresses me, inching his hand toward my panties.

I clamp my knees together, and Roman leans forward, fixing his gaze on me as he forces his hand between my legs. I can’t deny him. His fingers dip into my wetness. I stifle a moan and bite my lip, hoping no one notices. Damn him for putting me in this position.

“When will we be in Monaco?” I ask.

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