Page 70 of Gloves Off

He’s not referring to my new wife, is he? She’d probably howl with laughter at the idea of me getting a lifetime achievement award. I can just imagine the old and injured jokes.

“You bet,” I say before leaving.

There’s no way in hell I’m bringing her to that award ceremony.

CHAPTER 35

GEORGIA

“What are you doing?”Alexei asks a few nights later as I stand in the foyer of his home, applying lipstick in front of the hallway mirror. His gaze catches on my mouth, flickering with distaste before it drags down my sparkly floor-length gold gown.

Right—those are his horny eyes. Poor guy is attracted to the last woman he’d ever want to be with.

“Waiting for my ride.” Why is he home so early? He wasn’t supposed to get home until late tonight.

A bouquet of flowers arrived at my office today. Yellow carnations. The second I got home, I looked them up in the book Maria had slipped into my work stuff.Yellow carnations—disdain, rejection.

He won’t ruin my good mood. I splurged on getting my hair done after work, big and wavy and shiny, and my makeup is practiced and precise. This dress has been hanging in my closet, waiting for the perfect moment. Between work and the soccer team this week, I’m exhausted, but there’s something about dressing up and looking hot that supercharges my ego.

“Where are you going?”

“Wouldn’t you love to know?”

His gaze drops to my mouth and heat flashes through me. It’s the same look he wore before he kissed me at the airport, pissed off and wound up.

Tension thickens in the air. He steps closer and my pulse jumps. Goddamnit.

“I’m going to a hospital benefit.” I twist the lipstick tube closed and tuck it in my clutch.

“Isn’t that the kind of thing you should invite your husband to?”

Honestly, I didn’t even think to. I’m so used to being single. “You weren’t supposed to be home in time.”

He studies me with a frown. “You’re wearing that perfume again. The Friday one.”

I hate that he notices things like this, and now that I know he grew up helping Maria in her flower shop, I realize that’s how he identified the violet note in my perfume.

“I don’t just wear it on Fridays,” I rush out. “I wear it when I want to feel—” I don’t know why I’m talking about this with him.

“What?” His stare turns to a glower.

The perfume makes me feel pretty and optimistic and happy. “It doesn’t matter. Breathe through your mouth if you don’t like it. Or better, stand farther away from me.”

He studies me, and I have the urge to squirm.

“The other night,” he says, voice low, and my skin prickles. “At the airport.”

The kiss, he means. I squint, pretending to think. “What happened at the airport?”

It’s like I haven’t even thought about it once. Haven’t obsessed about what we did each of those nights.

His nostrils flare. “When we kissed.”

“Oh. Whenyoukissedme.”

His eyes flash. “We shouldn’t be doing stuff like that anymore. No more kissing, even if it’s for show.”

I’m both disappointed and relieved. “I agree. I’m supposed to beprofessional in front of the team.” I’m actually impressed at how cool and disinterested I seem. The devil inside me lifts her head, though, and the words slip out before I can stop myself. “Besides, it wasn’t very good.”

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