Page 55 of Scarred (Russian Sinners 2)

The heat rushed through me again. I swore he enjoyed making me uncomfortable. If he kept this up, my body temperature would be all messed up from this constant heating and cooling.

“Nikolai,” every time I said his name, it felt exotic and exciting on my lips. “I appreciate the invite for dinner but I can’t go.”

“Why not?” Both Tasha and Nikolai asked at the same time. I would have to explain to Tasha when she got older that women always stuck together. When she is much older.

I desperately tried to think of a reason to give him. Wracking my brain for it, I got interrupted by my phone ringing. Maybe I’ve been saved by the ring.

I pulled the cell out of my purse and answered it. “Hello?”

“Olivia,” it was my brother and his voice sounded relieved.

“Hey,” I greeted him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” he assured me but there was something about him that alarmed me.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing. Why did you call?”

“I was trying to get in touch with Nik,” his voice reached through the phone but the nagging feeling that he wasn’t telling me something wouldn’t go away.

“So why didn’t you call his number?” I asked him.

“I did but it’s going straight to his voicemail,” he retorted dryly. “How are you? Have you painted the Winter Palace yet?”

I scoffed at that. “No, I haven’t and it is totally cliche. If you would have checked out any of my work, you’d know I’d never paint the Winter Palace.”

“Okay, no need to get all huffy about it.”

I rolled my eyes at my brother, although he couldn’t see me.

“Do you want to talk to Nikolai?” I questioned my brother, slightly annoyed. “Because coincidentally he is here with me and Tasha.”

“Good. Good,” he stated. If he said good one more time, I knew it was not good. “Can I talk to him?”

I glanced at Nikolai and handed him the phone, shrugging my shoulder. “It is my brother. He wants to talk to you.”

As he took the phone from me, his fingers brushed against mine and I swore I felt a current go through me. He must have felt it too because his gaze became dark with desire. He wanted me and that was just one more reason I should steer clear till all this business with Malcome was finished.

Or you can let go and enjoy it! You deserve the repeat of the pleasure he provided you.

“Yes,” he said into my cell and listened to whatever my brother was saying. His face was expressionless and I wondered what it was that my brother was telling him that required absolutely no input from Nikolai.

“I agree,” was all he said into the phone and hung up. He handed my cell back and I was careful to take it back, avoiding his touch at the same time. They were on the phone for a few minutes only.

“Everything ok?” I asked him. I wasn’t sure why, but I had a sense the whole air about him turned darker. He didn’t change his posture, his smile, nothing but my sixth sense was screaming at me.

“Yes,” he replied. “Let’s finish up lunch. I’ll have the ice cream delivered to our boat.”

Ah, yes! Something was definitely wrong. Tasha didn’t seem bothered by it, and I said nothing else as we all finished up our lunch and returned to his yacht, because it could never be called a boat.

As soon as we got to the yacht, the ice cream was already waiting for us. Nikolai spoke to his crew and security guards in Russian and low tones. I couldn’t understand any of it. I regretted not being good with foreign languages or learning more of Russian.

While we toured Europe, Anastasia kept shoving phrases at us in the local language. She always said we should know at least some of the language of the country we were visiting. Scarlett and I were totally not on board with it.

As Tasha and I sat on the front deck, both of us sporting sunglasses and eating our ice cream, I watched Nikolai and his security intently. Whatever was going on, it got them worked up. The only one that kept his complete calm was Nikolai while he was barking his orders.

Andrey, who came along with us, whispered something to Nikolai, and he turned around just as I was taking a lick of the ice cream.

Bad timing!

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