Page 591 of Hell Hath No Fury
I push thoughts from last night from my mind, certain she’ll see the evidence on my face. “C’mon, you know as well as I do how hectic the E.R. can be. The last thing I want to do is make him go out on a blind date after the night he had. Besides, we both enjoy the theatre. We’ll probably have a better time going to see the play than having dinner anyway.”
“He’s not taking you to dinner?” she says, her brows lifted.
I sigh, remembering why I left home at eighteen in the first place. “Yes, Mom. He’s taking me to dinner. I’m just saying this feels more personal, like he actually asked me instead of it being a setup.”
“You won’t regret it. He’s a good man. He—”
I cut her off. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know anything about him so I can form my own opinions.”
She smiles. “You’re going to have a great time.”
“I’m sure we will.”
“Remember what I said about grandbabies!” Her laughter follows me out of the front door and into the balmy evening air.
A sleek, expensive looking dark SUV waits for me at the curb, right on time. Even though the windows are tinted and rolled up, I prickle with a heavy awareness. With a calming breath, I walk down the sidewalk and pull open the passenger door. Pulling it open, I take a deep breath and plaster a smile on my lips.
It takes every ounce of training I have to keep the smile fixed on my face.
Because he is gorgeous.
Make your mouth water, make your knees weak, take your breath away kind of gorgeous.
“You must be Stella,” he says with a grin.
“I must be,” I say as I climb into his SUV.
He holds out a friendly hand and says, “So nice to finally meet you.”
“You, too.”
And it is. His dark brown hair is trim and tidy, the bottom edge brushing against the top of his leather jacket. The collar of his white button-up shirt is neatly pressed and accentuates the dark line of his defined jaw.
My hormones must be on high alert because I want to kiss that space between his shirt and his jawline in the dark hollow of his throat. I study him out of the corner of my eye with a few furtive glances.
His eyes are the deep, clear blue of the Atlantic Ocean laid in striking contrast to the dark slash of his lashes and eyebrows. His lips are full, his teeth white and straight under his boyish grin. The rest of him, I notice, is all man.
He navigates through traffic with an easy confidence, his corded forearms flexing, his body angled toward me as we make polite conversation.
“You didn’t have to take me to the theatre, Mikhail,” I say. “I’m happy to do something else.”
Shaking his head, he glances over at me. “No, this is perfect. When I moved to the U.S. my grandpa and I used to go to movies and plays to help learn the language. Some of my favorite memories are in a theatre.”
“You’re close with your grandpa?”
“Very. He and my grandmother moved over with my parents from Russia when I was young. We all lived in the same house until my parents could afford their own.”
My own grandparents threw my mom out when she informed them she was pregnant with me and unwilling to marry my father.
“Thank you for humoring my mom. I know how pushy she can be. I promise I’ll try not to be one of those horror stories you tell to your friends about, the blind date gone wrong.”
He slants a heated look my way. “So far it’s going absolutely right.”
* * *
He makes me wait until he can jog around the front to open my door for me. I study him, wondering if he’s being for real, when I step out the door. His scent wraps around me—all pine and spice—and I resist the urge to step closer into the circle of his arms to inhale it some more.
As he guides me up the steps to Will Call, my mind is a whirl of doubts, what ifs, and should I’s. I gave myself one night at The Sanctum and it should be more than enough to slake my needs. Clear my mind.
