Page 98 of Scarlet Secrets

“It doesn’t matter what I think. It happened and now… Demyan, come on. You need to show her you care.”

Do I?

I’d kill any asshole who hurt my sister, which is my current mission. And as for Erin? I’d do the same. Fuck, when she stepped out with me, looking like a million dollars, that earthy, sensual thing she has, there’s no need for sirens blaring loud about her appeal, because it’s there. She’s there, gorgeous, sexy, real. When we stepped out and the CEOs I’m trying to woo started fucking hitting on her, I almost put a hit out on them.

Fuck the hit.

I’d have killed them.

I wanted to.

She’s more than the mother of my child, I discovered;she’s that piece I found three years ago that clicked, the piece I didn’t know I missed until she walked back into my life.

So… yes. I care.

“She knows.” I go to step away, but my sister’s apparently not done. I want to blame the bourbon, but the sip of the coffee I had of hers was just a very mild hint of booze, so I don’t think that has anything to do with her standing up on Erin’s behalf.

“Does she?”

“Stop, Alina,” I growl.

But she’s never really listened to me. She doesn’t stop. “You pretty much told her she’s marrying you. That’s not romantic. Where’s the romance?”

The sex. The shower, the things I said to Erin last night. “I can be romantic.”

“Can you?”

The noise on the stairs announces Erin and Sasha. “Yes. And you’re helping. Where’s Magda?”

I take off, a plan forming in my head.

Romantic?

I’ll show Erin romance so much she won’t be able to walk straight for a week.

“Where are we going?”Erin says as I steer her to the car. “What about Sasha?”

The panic in her voice is real, and it hurts. What? Does she think I’m getting rid of her? Or is it separation anxiety?

Magda comes out and hands me two baskets, her gaze warmer than I think I’ve ever seen it. And I put that down to the appeal of Erin and the woman’s approval of this move.

Not that I asked.

Not that she volunteers.

“Alina’s got Sasha and the rest of the household. He’s fine,” I say, determined not to let the wobble in her voice affect me.

She bites her lip.

“I’m taking you on a picnic.”

“So he can come?—”

“Erin.” I take her shoulders and move her to the car, where I open the door. The road already has sentries along it, and I don’t fucking trust Niko, especially since he’s gone to ground in a way that makes me look carefully around me and over my shoulder.

It’s the fact he’s gone to ground that creates a sense of foreboding; people are reporting sightings of him in crowded areas and establishments where I’m not about to have a shootout in.

Like he did at the fucking wedding.

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