25
IVAN
“When did all this happen?” Anya wags a finger between me and Cora.
“When do you think? You were at the party last night,” I grumble.
She elbows me again. “Yeah, I was. Which means I had to talk to dozens of women who thought the best way to you might be through me.” She turns to Cora. “I never saw you, though.”
Cora tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Her face blushes pink, matching the new color on her shoulders.
She spent hours outside. I watched her walking around the lawn and thought about going to join her.
But after my weakness in the shower, I decided that keeping my distance might be for the best.
Anya sighs when both of us remain awkwardly silent. “Really? Is this some big secret? I want to hear about your meet-cute. Now!”
“Don’t be a brat.”
Anya spins to elbow me again, but Cora interrupts. “She’s not being a brat. I think it’s nice that you care about what is going on in your brother’s life.”
Anya presses a hand to her chest for a stunned moment and then, before I can stop her, she pulls Cora into a bear hug. “I knew my brother would find the perfect woman for him some day. I just knew it.”
Cora meets my eyes over Anya’s shoulder for just a second before quickly looking away. She pats my sister on the back and manages a smile.
Anya whips out an arm to rope me into the hug. She squeals. “I’m so happy for you two!”
Cora is pressed against my arm. The warmth of her body sears into me. She smells like…like me, actually. Like sandalwood. Niles must have stocked her shower with my body wash. It sparks some possessive part deep inside of me.
She is mine.
“Okay. That’s enough.” I slide out of the hug and put some distance between us. “Why are you here, Anya? I’m sure your husband misses you. You should be getting back.”
I start to steer her for the door, but she dodges me. “Are you trying to get rid of me already? I just got here.”
Exactly. Anya has only been here for three minutes and I’m already questioning everything.
This fake marriage plan seemed like a good idea before Cora shook my sister’s hand and introduced herself as my fiancée. Anya has always wanted me to get married for love. It’s been important to her since she got married.
“Lev and I are so happy. I want that for you, too,” she said on her wedding day. “Whatever it takes, I want you to be this happy, Ivan.”
She should know better than most that it isn’t possible for me, but she still held onto hope.
Now, I’m toying with those hopes. It’s for her own good—for the good of the Bratva—but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
I’m about to tell Anya that she should leave because Cora and I want to be alone, but then Cora swoops in and delicately loops her arm through Anya’s. “No one is trying to get rid of you. We’d love to have you. Niles made some snacks in the kitchen.”
Again, Anya’s mouth falls open. She turns to me, sheer delight written all over her face. “Do you see this hospitality? I can’t believe I’ve put up with your brutish ways for so long.”
I flip her off and she blows me a kiss in response.
“I don’t want to overload you,” Cora teases, “but I was thinking about making coffee, too.”
Anya groans. “Cora, you and I are going to get along famously.”
That’s what I’m worried about.
The two of them sashay into the kitchen. I trail along irritably. Cora gets plates down out of the cabinet and passes them out. Anya grabs a handful of cheese and crackers and then leans in, a grin on her face.
“Tell me everything. Full details of the meet-cute.”
I expect Cora to buckle under my sister’s insistence. When people aren’t used to Anya, she can be a lot. “TMI” is not part of her vocabulary.
Instead, Cora smiles with ease and doesn’t even look at me as she answers. “I know it probably sounds crazy, but we met for the first time last night.”
“So the party worked then?” Anya claps her hands. “Were you introduced, or—”
“Enough with the inquisition,” I snap.
This time, Cora is the one to reach out and lay her hand over mine. Electricity buzzes in the space between our skin.
“I don’t mind answering her questions.” Cora gives me a practiced smile and then focuses her attention on my sister. “I think Ivan is trying to protect me.”
Anya frowns. “Protect you from what?”
I have no idea what Cora is about to say. I have half a mind to interrupt her. I don’t know how I’m going to explain to my sister that this entire thing is bullshit, so I sure as fuck don’t want Cora doing it for me.
But I’m also fascinated by the way she is taking control of this situation. I want to see what she does with it.
“Last night didn’t go exactly the way I planned,” Cora admits. “I first met your brother when he saved me from being groped by some drunk man.”
“Stefanos Genakos,” I explain when Anya looks to me for an explanation.
She grimaces. “Oh. Gross. He backed me into more than one corner before I got married. He should be banned from these parties.”
“I would second that. He was not a gentleman. Your brother, however, was. He stepped in and protected me.” Cora reaches over and grabs my hand again. She takes it easily, curling her fingers around mine like we’ve done it a million times before.
Anya stares at our intertwined hands like she might be seeing things. “Well, brother, will Stefanos live to tell the tale?”
“He’ll live to tell the tale of how he got his ass kicked.”
Anya silently cheers as Cora continues. “But before Ivan swooped in, the guy—Stefanos, I guess—ripped my dress.”
Anya gasps. “No! Where?”
“Right up the backside.” Cora drops her face into her hands with the perfect self-deprecating chuckle. “The material was really delicate. By the time your brother found me, the entire dress had shredded apart. I was standing in nothing but my birthday suit trying to fix it somehow.”
“No!” Anya claps both hands over her mouth and looks at me. “What did you do?”
“I gave her my suit jacket.”
“Which I thought was very chivalrous of him—until I showed up today and found out there was an entire closet of your clothes just a few doors down the hall I could have changed into,” Cora says.
Anya lunges across the island and slaps my arm. “All men are creeps! Especially the ones I’m related to.”
“I could have let her leave naked,” I point out. “So I think the suit jacket was a fair compromise.”
“Pig!” Anya accuses even as she has to bite back a laugh.
Cora slips off of her barstool and turns to the coffee pot. While she’s away, Anya silently pulls on my sleeve. She’s amazing, she mouths, jabbing a finger in Cora’s direction.
I wave her away without a response. I won’t dare open my mouth on the topic. There’s no telling what I might accidentally say.
“This coffee pot is like a spaceship.” Cora stands back and bops the side of the stainless steel machine like that might help. “I need a PhD just to get my caffeine fix.”
I move behind her, sliding an arm around her back to flip the switch on the side. My forearm grazes over her hip bone. Her hair tickles my chin. It’s an ordinary kind of contact that feels somehow a billion times more intimate than what we did in the shadows last night.
Cora turns. She’s blushing from head to toe, but she raises her chin with dignity. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” My voice is little more than a rasp.
She blinks and slides past me. “Coffee will be ready in a few minutes. Do you take cream and sugar, Anya?”
“Ungodly amounts of both,” Anya replies.
This hostess act is throwing me for a loop. At the drop of a hat, Cora is operating with the nonchalant grace that most women earn after countless tutors and too many reprimands to count.
Who is this woman?
I’m still mulling over Cora’s possible origins when I realize what Anya is saying.
“I’ve been hoping Ivan would find someone nice for literal centuries.” She grins over at me. “He may not like to show it, but Ivan is a champion of love.”
Cora practically chokes on a cracker. She calms herself down and schools her expression. “Is that so?”
“It is! Ivan wants the people around him to be happy. He goes to great lengths to ensure they are.”
Shit. Anya thinks Cora and I are the real deal. She has bought into our lie so completely that she is about to spill our family drama to her. I’m trying to come up with a casual way to tell her to shut the fuck up and leave when the front door bangs open.
“Hello!”
Cora sits taller. “Are you expecting anyone else?”
“No, I—”
“Etot chertov dom morg? Where the fuck is everybody?”
My sister and I share a pained expression as my father’s voice rings through the house again.
I drag a hand down my face. “Guess it’s a family fucking reunion.”