Chapter Three

THREE

With shaking hands, Azelie opened the box that had come unexpectedly. She had texted Andrii that she was sorry, she wasn't going to be able to make their dinner date. She hadn't told him she didn't have the clothes to wear to an upscale restaurant—but she didn't. She'd gone through every single item in her closet and realized even if she knew for certain she wanted to go, she couldn't.

The worst of it was—she did want to see him again. She wanted to spend time with him. He'd texted her back asking for an address where he could have a delivery made. Thinking he was sending flowers, she gave him the address of her building. A part of her knew she shouldn't, but she didn't want to cut ties with him.

The box had arrived at four, an hour and a half before they would have gone on their first date. Heart beating too fast, Azelie stared at the large rectangular box for several minutes before she managed to get the courage to open what clearly wasn't flowers.

Her breath caught in her throat when she moved the tissue paper aside to reveal a shimmering silver minidress. There were heels, stockings, garters, earrings, a necklace and a note.

It occurred to me I took too much for granted. I wasn't thinking about anything but the chance to spend time with you. I really would like to see you tonight. Please wear this for me. I'll come by your building at five-fifteen to pick you up. M

Silver sequins sparkled as Azelie carefully lifted the dress from the box. It was beautiful. More so than anything she'd ever worn. It was also more daring than anything she'd ever considered wearing. The dress had a plunging neckline leading to a twist in the fabric at the waist. Fully lined, with a deep V back, the fabric would cling like a second skin, showing off her body. She'd never done that before either. The label in the dress simply read, Label 287.

Her breath caught in her throat. She had often looked at the clothing from Label 287, but she had never bought anything, not even the most casual blouse, although she longed to. The fabrics were always soft, and each design looked sensual. The designer only sold limited editions of her work. If you didn't order immediately, you might not get your choice because there was a high chance of each piece being sold out within days or sometimes even hours. She couldn't justify spending the money when she needed it to stay in San Francisco and continue going to school.

The garters looked sexy, and the stockings were silk. The heels were shocking. Silver glitter-covered leather. She recognized the brand immediately, although she had never owned a pair and only knew about them because Janine had been saving her money for shoes from that designer. The slim band of glittered leather buckled around the ankle. The stilettos were at least four inches high, closer to five.

Then there was the jewelry. She didn't own jewelry and had no idea what real jewelry was or how to tell the difference. That was probably a good thing because if the drop earrings were real diamonds she would have fainted. The necklace was a silver choker with sparkling diamonds she hoped weren't real.

Nested in the bottom of the box was a barely there scrap of underwear. Just looking at it made her mouth go dry and her heart beat even faster. She desperately wanted to try the dress on, to see how she looked and felt in it.

Telling herself she didn't have to go through with the date, she dressed carefully. She'd already taken a long bath, the way she often did on her day off from school. She was grateful she'd bathed in scented water. She had to admit, just putting on the thong, garters and silk stockings made her feel sexier than she'd ever felt.

The dress clung to her body like a second skin, emphasizing her abundant curves. She had often tried to lose weight. She worked out and ran every day, but her body had curves. She didn't lose weight the way she wanted, and eventually she decided with her body type, she'd just cover up. The dress showed every curve. She couldn't wear a bra with the dress, and the plunging neckline showed the high rounded curves of her breasts.

After she did her makeup with the smoky eyes Andrii had requested, Azelie stared at herself for a long time. She didn't look slutty the way she feared she might. She looked sexy—almost beautiful. Certainly not the way she normally looked.

She did her lips in a rose-petal red and then allowed her hair to fall in its usual mass of wild curls and waves down her back and around her face. She didn't like that she couldn't see the earrings when they were so beautiful, so she pulled the sides of her hair up and fixed them in a fancy twist. She thought that might complement the dress and show off the beautiful earrings.

For the first time in her life, she thought she looked beautiful. Even sexy. More than anything, she wanted to go to dinner with Andrii. That would mean she would have to pay him back for the dress and shoes. She could give the jewelry back to him unless it was costume jewelry—in that case she was going to keep it, even if it was on the expensive side. It would be wonderful just knowing she had the dress and shoes in her closet.

How was she going to get to the coffee shop? She didn't want to chance riding the bus in the dress. She'd probably get robbed. She could wear a long coat and her tennis shoes and change. She picked up the note and read it again. He had a definite masculine scrawl. He'd signed it with a single letter. Not A , but M . What did that mean?

The last line told her he'd come for her at her apartment building. It probably hadn't been the best idea to text him her address. She knew better than to trust any man with her safety, but somehow her need to see Andrii again superseded common sense. She glanced at the clock. He would be arriving soon. She didn't really have the time to tell him not to come, that she wasn't going after all.

She searched through her closet for a decent coat or sweater to wear with the dress. She had nothing. A puffy jacket and vest. That wasn't going to go with the outfit. She didn't want to ruin the look. She stared at herself for a long time debating and, in the end, decided she would go without a coat. It was San Francisco at night, which meant it would be cold, but she was willing to hope the inside of the restaurant was warm enough.

She picked up the little glittery bag that contained her ID, credit card and emergency cash. She was smart enough to know if things didn't work out, she might need to find her own way home. No matter how attractive she found him, Andrii was a stranger. She had already broken enough of her rules just agreeing to go out with him.

Azelie texted him that she would be waiting downstairs. She didn't want him coming up to her apartment. For one thing, he was obviously far wealthier than she was. She didn't want him seeing her tiny space. And she didn't want to forever picture him there. Or smell his cologne. Maybe it wasn't cologne—maybe it was his natural scent. Whatever it was, she found Andrii Federoff intoxicating.

She tried not to obsess over the man as she took the elevator down to the first floor. She couldn't help trying to dissect why she was so enamored with him when she wasn't attracted to other men. When she was with him, she felt like she was under a spell. His voice mesmerized her. Sadness lurked in his eyes, and it felt very genuine to her. She found herself wanting to do whatever it would take to make him happy.

He was plainspoken, telling her exactly his feelings and what he found attractive about her sexually. She heard honesty in his voice. He might have sounded crude, but she had the feeling he did that deliberately to see if she would be offended. She had considered, for one brief moment, pretending to be. But if he was being honest with her, she wanted to be just as honest with him. She admitted to herself that the things he said to her sent heat waves through her body.

She reached the first floor to wait by the door for a car. She should have texted him to find out what he was driving. It was difficult to find parking in San Francisco. She had a space in the lot at the apartment building where she could park a car if she owned one, but she preferred the bus system so she wouldn't have to try to find parking everywhere she traveled. She'd been using buses and the BART system for so long she knew the various connections and stops without looking at maps.

She hadn't been waiting more than three minutes when a BMW pulled up to the front of her building and Andrii stepped out of the car. Instantly, Azelie couldn't breathe. He was incredibly gorgeous in a dark suit. The jacket emphasized his wide shoulders and deep chest. When he moved up the walkway toward the building, his gait was so smooth he appeared to be gliding—or prowling like a great jungle cat.

Azelie had no idea why she was so susceptible to him, but she couldn't take her eyes off him. Draped over one arm appeared to be a full-length coat that clearly was too small for him. Her heart accelerated and a million butterflies took flight in her stomach. He was too thoughtful for words. She didn't think men like him really existed. In her world, they never had.

She stepped out the door of the building just before he reached it, watching his face, needing to see if her appearance pleased him. Andrii's eyes softened and his mouth curved into a smile. Not only was there approval in his eyes, but the way his gaze drifted over her body and returned to her face filled her with a strange pride. His eyes had darkened with intense sensual desire. For her. All for her. She wasn't used to a man's entire focus or admiration, and she felt color sweeping up her neck into her face.

"You look beautiful."

His voice, that compelling velvet voice, played over her skin like the touch of fingers. Goose bumps rose. Her sex clenched. She even went damp. She found herself blinking up at him, unable to speak.

He cupped her chin and tilted her face up toward his. " Solnyshkuh , when I give you a very sincere compliment because you are truly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, it would be nice if you acknowledged it."

His thumb slid along her chin, featherlight, sending flickering heat streaking through her veins. He was truly deadly when it came to seduction.

Azelie swallowed the tight knot in her throat. "Thank you, Andrii."

Immediately, she got a warm look of approval that added a hard knot of desire to the emotions already roiling inside her. She decided honesty was the best policy, even if it was embarrassing.

"When I look at you, or you speak to me in that voice you have, sometimes I find it difficult to breathe, let alone speak." She made the admission in a low tone, but she kept her gaze fixed on his. It was important to see his reaction to her honesty. If he looked amused, she would turn and go straight back to her apartment.

His eyes went from gray to liquid mercury. His expression softened even more. Her heart stuttered at the look of complete approval and desire in his eyes. She had made him happy with her admission.

"Telling me that must have been difficult for you," Andrii said. His voice was always low, even when he sounded commanding, creating an intimacy between them. "Thank you for being so honest with me. When you don't answer me, I'll be more cognizant of giving you time."

He held up the black coat. It was full-length, slim, long-sleeved, straight cut with a tailored neckline. The coat was double breasted with two slanted in-seam pockets. The front closure was enhanced with a wide tone-on-tone belt with a large gold buckle and gold eyelets. The adjustable cuff tabs were gold buckles matching the large one on the belt.

"You aren't allergic to wool or cashmere, are you?" he asked. "I should have asked before I brought this coat. It was just so perfect for you, and I worried you might get cold."

Azelie knew that coat had to cost the earth. It was from that same famous designer, Label 287, which she could never afford in a million years, but then she couldn't afford the dress or shoes. Now she worried that the earrings and necklace might be real.

"I'm not allergic to anything but bug bites," she admitted. She struggled with herself to tell him she couldn't accept the coat, but he was already holding it out for her to put her arms in. She wanted that coat even more than the dress and heels. It was one of the most exquisite items of clothing she'd ever seen.

Andrii wrapped her in the coat and then stood in front of her, cinching the belt. He pulled her long hair from the back of the coat so it flowed down nearly to her waist. He stood regarding her with an approving eye. "That coat was made just for you."

"It's beautiful." She managed to find enough air to get the declaration out, when her lungs felt raw and burning. "I can't thank you enough for the clothes and jewelry. I didn't have anything suitable in my closet and would never have been able to go with you."

Andrii wrapped his arm around her waist and began to walk with her toward the car. Just having his arm around her made her feel safe. Walking with him felt right. He was taller than she was by quite a bit and made her feel almost delicate when she'd always felt awkward. He opened the passenger door for her and handed her in carefully.

The car was pure luxury and warm. Maybe it was the coat. She wasn't certain she'd ever want to take the Label 287 coat off. It made her feel so different, like she had stepped into an alternative world. A fairy tale. Girls like her didn't get happy ever after, and they didn't meet men like Andrii Federoff. She made up her mind to enjoy every single second with him. She wasn't going to waste time on worrying that he might find a way into her closely guarded heart. Just for this one night, she was going to be that fairy-tale princess.

He drove the way he talked and walked. In complete command. Soft music played, a surprising mix of older songs by Frank Sinatra and Perry Como. She didn't think anyone else listened to them. She had a passion for singers from the past.

"I love the music." She managed to tell him without stuttering.

"I play the piano, the guitar and a few other instruments," Andrii disclosed. "I'll admit I particularly love older music, all kinds. This mix is a favorite when I'm driving."

She hugged the information to herself, feeling as if he had bestowed a gift on her. She sensed that he didn't talk about himself much. He had concentrated on her, asking questions when they'd been in the coffee shop, but she didn't know anything about him.

"Do you play in a band?"

"I have three brothers—more like foster brothers; we were raised together. We all play instruments, and we get together and gig sometimes in bars. I go to piano bars and play. Music is soothing to me."

"If you only play occasionally, that clearly isn't your regular job. You said you worked security. Is that what you do full-time?"

She felt very brave asking. He wasn't a man who would want anyone prying into his business. She must have sounded hesitant because he glanced at her, sending a reassuring smile.

" Solnyshkuh , we're getting to know one another. I'll let you know if I would prefer not to answer a question. You have every right to do the same. I'm very interested in pursuing a relationship. We can't do that if we don't know each other."

She sent him a tentative smile. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable with questions."

His eyes warmed, going from that piercing, intense silvery color to a softer gray. Her answer, as sincere as it was, meant something to him.

"I own a construction company along with those three brothers. I enjoy working with my hands. Sometimes I design furniture just because the wood speaks to me."

"I'd love to see something you created," she said. "Music and designing furniture. You have the soul of an artist. Security must be your fill-in work."

She'd made that a statement, so he didn't correct her. In any case, finding human traffickers was more on Code. The rest of them just went on the rescue missions.

"Are you concerned about asking me questions because you don't like to answer them?"

Azelie frowned, thinking it over. Eventually, she shook her head. "It isn't that, although I don't tell very many people my business." She hesitated, but he shot her a look that told her he knew she was hedging. "I don't talk to anyone about my business," she admitted. "After my family was killed, there were so many reporters and cops coming around. I'd been shot multiple times and was in the hospital. I couldn't get away from them. I just kept my mouth shut, hoping they would eventually give up and go away."

"You didn't have anyone to protect you?"

His voice had dropped another octave, sending a shiver of awareness down her spine. He wasn't happy that she'd been alone, and no one had watched over her. His voice hadn't really changed, just seemed more intimate, more intense. She wasn't even certain how he did it, but she knew with absolute certainty that her simple explanation had sent a wave of anger through him.

"No. I have no other family. Janine and the children were everything to me." She twisted her fingers together in her lap to keep her hands from shaking. She didn't like thinking about that time in her life, let alone talking about it.

"I can understand why you wouldn't want to disclose your past to just anyone. It must hurt to talk about it." He dropped one large hand over her hands, stilling them. "Do you have nightmares?"

Azelie pressed her lips together, debating whether she wanted to answer that question. He was a man filled with confidence. She felt she appeared weak beside him. She wasn't weak. That was an illusion. Others took her quiet nature for weakness, not strength. She believed there was strength in silence. In getting others to talk while she listened—and remembered. She had an excellent memory. Too good. It was impossible for her to forget the smallest detail of the night her brother-in-law had murdered her family.

"Zelie?"

Again, his voice was velvet soft, but when he looked at her, there was the merest hint of disappointment in his eyes. She detested disappointing him. It made no sense that she seemed to need to please him.

"Yes, I have nightmares."

"Often?"

She bit her lower lip and then forced herself to answer. "Yes."

"Every night?" he pressed as he turned into the parking lot of the Waterfront Restaurant.

The Waterfront building was located at Pier 7. Renovated from an old longshoremen's bar, the building dated back to 1894. It was very San Francisco with its old beams and wood.

The valet parking allowed Andrii to open the car door and help Azelie out. The restaurant had spectacular views of the bay, Bay Bridge, and Treasure Island. The atmosphere inside the restaurant was old, eclectic and comfortable. They were seated immediately at a table for two in a more secluded location with a stunning view of the water.

Andrii helped her out of the coat, although a part of her wanted to cling to it. The only thing that made giving up the warmth and comfort of the coat worth it was seeing the way his gaze drifted over her. The way his expression changed, softening the hard edges yet carving sensual lines deeper. The way his eyes heated with desire and what she identified as pride in her.

Andrii handed her beloved coat to the host as he held out her chair for her. She sat carefully. The dress was shorter than she had ever worn before, and when she sat, the tops of the garters showed. It looked sexy, but she wasn't certain if she liked the way several men in the restaurant looked at her so openly. She wasn't used to male attention.

Nothing escaped Andrii's watchful gaze. He noticed her trembling hand as she picked up the menu. Immediately, he placed his hand over hers. "What is it?"

It took a moment to decide whether to answer honestly. He waited for her, not attempting to hurry her. "I'm not used to so many men looking at me the way they are." The admission came out low and a little unsteady. Again, she maintained eye contact, waiting for his reaction.

"You're a beautiful woman, Zelie. Men are going to look, and they're bound to have reactions to the sight of your body. How could they not? It shouldn't bother you. It's natural. I'm pleased to be the man escorting you."

She resisted the urge to pull at the hem of her dress, but she did look down at the plunging neckline to assure herself that her nipples weren't on display.

As always, Andrii seemed to know what she was concerned about. "Your tits are gorgeous, Solnyshkuh . I love the curve of them and your dress frames them expertly. If there was a malfunction and one slipped out, I would have the pleasure of tucking it back in for you."

His voice slid over her skin like the brush of velvet. Instantly, she was hyperaware of him, her body reacting to the suggestion of him physically touching her. Every nerve ending leapt to life. Her nipples hardened into twin peaks of desire, feeling hot, like twin flames. A knot of sheer lust formed in her stomach. Her sex fluttered. Clenched.

"You're with me, Zelie," he reminded her, his voice gentle. "Trust me to look after you. I am the one that asked you to wear the dress for me, and you did. It's my pleasure and honor to protect you. You wore it because I asked you to, didn't you? It isn't your usual manner of dressing."

Azelie pressed her lips together and nodded. "I did wear it for you," she admitted. "I like pleasing you."

"Does it give you pleasure to please me?" he asked.

A shiver of something far too close to desire went down her spine. It was a strange, intimate conversation to be having with a man—especially one she barely knew. On the other hand, she felt as if they were progressing toward something beyond what she may have imagined.

She nodded again, slower this time. Her mouth felt dry, and her lungs burned for air. Fortunately, the waiter returned, giving her a reprieve.

The Waterfront, located in Northern California, used fresh foods directly from farmer's markets. The restaurant offered a wide selection of local seafood.

"I'd like to order for us," Andrii said.

Her eyes met his above the menu. It would be interesting to see what he would order for her. Just the suggestion made her feel cared for. She loved seafood, but she was never decisive when it came to ordering. There were so many items that looked good. She didn't want to go too expensive either. He'd provided her clothes, which cost enough already. Mainly, she wanted to be in his company.

"I'd like that," she agreed. The waiter stood beside her, closer than she preferred, and she knew he could look straight down the plunging neckline of her dress.

Andrii reached across the table for her hand, giving her added reassurance. He clearly had studied the menu. "We'll start with your crab cakes and oysters. We'll both have the salad of young leaves. For the entrees, for my lady, the handmade seafood linguini, and I'll have the halibut. For dessert we'll share the strawberry shortcake and the peach and blackberry crisp. The lady will have the pisco punch and I'll have an old-fashioned."

Andrii handed the menus to the waiter, still holding on to her hand. One thumb ran over the back of her hand, brushing lightly. He adjusted his hold, so his thumb could slide over her inner wrist. She knew if he found her pulse, it would give away the secret of her accelerated heart rate.

"You will have to get used to men admiring the way you look, Solnyshkuh . I can't take my eyes off you. I would expect that other men would look and lust after you."

"What does Solnyshkuh mean?" She couldn't quite get the pronunciation perfect.

He gave her one of his rare genuine smiles. "It is Russian for ‘little sun.' A term of endearment in my homeland. I'm a citizen of this country now but lived there during my childhood and teenage years. I didn't make the United States my home until a few years ago. I traveled quite a bit before deciding to settle here."

She hugged that information to her. "And what is a pisco punch? I've never had one before and don't have the slightest clue as to what is in it."

"The drink is made with BarSol Pisco. It's produced from the fermentation of one hundred percent Quebranta grapes."

"So it's a wine."

His thumb slid along her inner wrist, keeping her all too aware of him.

"Yes, a wine. The drink is made with Lillet Rouge. That's a blend of cabernet sauvignon and merlot grapes with lemon and orange brandies. It also has quinine and a botanical infusion."

Her heart jumped. She wasn't used to drinking alcohol. She didn't want to get drunk on one drink and mess everything up.

"The drink also has lime and pineapple gum syrup. If you don't like it, you don't have to drink it. We can get something else. You seemed up for an adventure, so why not try new drinks?"

His thumb continued those brushstrokes over her pounding pulse. She inclined her head, afraid she was going to burst into flames any moment. Electricity seemed to spark over her skin with each slide of his thumb.

"Before the waiter interrupted us, you were about to tell me if pleasing me gives you pleasure," he reminded her, his gaze holding hers captive. "I think it's an important question, and I would like an answer."

She knew a nod wasn't going to cut it. He wanted a verbal response. She had no idea if she was humiliating herself by telling him the truth, but she felt she needed to. It was the only way there was any chance of a future relationship. She honestly didn't think she could hold Andrii's attention for long, but already, she found herself falling under his spell.

"Yes." The admission came out barely discernible. Color crept into her face. "I want to make you happy, and when I do the things you ask me, I can see that you're happy."

"Even when those things I ask are difficult for you?"

She thought that over carefully before answering. "It gives me more pleasure because it's a hard decision, and when I overcome fear for you, that seems to bring you greater joy. That's what I want for you."

"Do you get the same pleasure from doing what other people in your life ask of you?"

Her eyebrow shot up. "Other people? I don't have other people in my life. If you mean men, I don't date."

He looked satisfied at that statement. "Men such as Alan Billows. You're what now? Twenty-two or three? You've known him going on at least seven years. Do you try to please him?"

Azelie did her best not to make a face. Andrii had admitted he knew Billows. She didn't want him repeating anything she said to the man. "I would prefer not to talk about him," she finally said.

"May I ask why?"

The pad of his thumb swept over the pulse on her inner wrist. She couldn't look away from his eyes. They had lightened to that intense silver. He still had that soft, gentle tone, intimate and warm, but something in his eyes reminded her of a predator. That silver seemed to pierce through any veil she tried to hide behind. She feared every secret she had was exposed to him.

"You know Billows," she pointed out. "And he's my boss. I don't talk about him to anyone. It was a fluke and wrong of me that I admitted I work for him and that I helped keep him from getting into trouble with the tax investigators."

"Do you believe I would betray your confidence?"

At the sound of disappointment mirroring the look in his eyes, her stomach twisted into hard knots. She detested hurting him. Was she really afraid he would tattle to Billows?

The waiter brought the appetizers and drinks, once again choosing her side of the table to serve the food from. She felt more self-conscious than ever, and she almost tugged at the hem of her dress to cover the exposed tops of her silk stockings. As if he knew what she was thinking—and he probably did—Andrii shook his head. That small gesture was enough to keep her from fidgeting and giving away the fact that she had little confidence in herself as a woman.

Andrii waited until the waiter had left the table before he persisted in getting his answer. "Zelie, this is extremely important. Do you believe I would betray you by telling Billows anything you say?"

She shook her head. Just the way he looked so disappointed in her gutted her. "No, I'm just not used to discussing him."

"I wondered why he didn't help you after you lost your family. Surely, he must have come around to the hospital to see you."

"No, we don't have that kind of relationship. Alan is moody. One time he can be rude and abrupt, another time funny and charming. He also can be very intimidating. Not in the way you are, but more as if he might hurt you if you don't agree with him. I stay away from him as much as possible. That's why I do the books when no one is around. I told him I could concentrate better that way. If he needs to speak to me about anything, the meeting is very brief."

"You would prefer not to work for him," Andrii stated and indicated the food. "He isn't a friend, Zelie. I met him a few times because when I'm in the city, I like to play occasionally."

She didn't like the idea of him with other women, so she didn't respond. Instead, she tried the crab cakes and then the oysters. The food was amazing.

"You were going to tell me about your nightmares," he reminded her, changing the subject. "How often you have them and whether it interferes with your sleep."

Azelie wasn't sure it was true that she'd started to tell him about her sleepless nights. He'd asked the question, and it appeared as if he was determined to get an answer. She knew if she said she didn't want to discuss it, he would accept the limitation, but he would be disappointed. She'd already not only disappointed him but offended him.

"I have nightmares nearly every night. I'm afraid to go to sleep. I often play music or listen to thunderstorms to lull myself to sleep. Sleep never lasts long."

"Have you spoken to a therapist?"

"Yes, when it first happened." She took a cautious sip of the drink. To her shock, it was delicious. "This is really good."

His smile was slow and this time lit his eyes. It didn't last long, but her heart sang at his reaction.

"The food is too."

"Trusting me to look after you has its rewards," he pointed out.

"Yes, it does," she agreed.

The rest of the evening was magical for Azelie. She found the longer she was in his company, the more relaxed she became. The view was so spectacular that she kept getting caught up in staring out the window. They talked mostly about her. He asked her questions regarding the merry widows and their two gentlemen friends. He seemed so interested in everything about her, down to the smallest detail. How long she'd known the merry widows, why she chose to go to the small coffeehouse rather than one of the larger chains.

The conversation continued on the drive home, although mostly on her end. Each time she wanted to ask him a question about himself, he got there before her, asking her something new about her life. She really didn't want the night to end, fearful that she might not see him again. He hadn't indicated one way or the other that he wanted to see her again when he pulled up in front of her building.

Azelie reached up to remove one earring. "You've given me the best night of my life, Andrii. Truly. I don't know anything about jewelry, but the coat, dress and shoes are designer. I have a terrible fear these might be real." She held out one earring dripping diamonds. "If you give me your address, I can send you the dress and shoes. If you don't mind, I'd like to keep the coat but will pay for it."

She hoped she had enough in her savings to pay the price, but letting that coat go meant giving up everything he'd given her. Gifts. Beautiful gifts. She didn't get birthday or Christmas presents when she was young. The money went for food and for the children. She contributed what she could for them. To receive such an enormous gift, like the clothing Andrii had provided for her to wear out, brought her to tears. Of course she couldn't keep the items; they were far too expensive. But the coat…

Andrii sat very still, his expression an unreadable mask. His eyes went that glittering silver she found herself fearful of. She didn't know what triggered the sudden rising tension in the car, but she felt it. Oppressive. Dark. Ominous. She tried to explain further.

"Seriously, I had the best time with you. It's been magical. I don't want you to ever think you have to spend money on me for me to be happy. It makes me happy just to spend time with you."

Unfortunately, that only seemed to make things worse. The tension in the car thickened. Her stomach churned. She had no idea why she was upsetting him, but it hurt. Physically hurt. She felt sick. She'd had the best time she'd ever had, and yet he seemed to be angry with her.

"When I buy something for you, Zelie, you don't throw it back in my face." He got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side, yanking open her door. There was thunder on his face. Disapproval.

She had definitely triggered his temper, but she had no idea why. Not just his temper, but his smoldering disapproval. He looked at her as if she were a complete stranger. He did help her from the car, ignoring the earring altogether, but he didn't put his hand on her back or touch her at all when he walked her up to the door. He was silent as she put in the security code and stepped inside, turning to thank him again. He was already walking away. He didn't look back, or even at her, when he got behind the wheel of the car. She knew because she remained right at the door watching until he drove off.