Prologue

Brooke

Eight Years Ago

"C an you believe this?" My best friend Lara was so hyped she was practically bursting with excitement, and all because we were invited to the college party of the year. "We're going to the Winter Valley University Holiday Bash!" She giggled as she leaned forward to get her eyeliner just right. "Aren't you excited?"

"Not really, no." I didn't want to drag Lara down with my mood, but I really didn't want to go to this party. I was only going because she was so excited about it. "It still doesn't seem real." I expected it to be yet another joke, another prank by the rich kids who looked down on us. But Ilya had invited me, and he wasn't like the other students.

"It is real," she screeched. "It's real and Ilya invited you, Brooke. He wouldn't have done that if he didn't want you there."

"I know, but that doesn't make it feel real. I don't even know if I'll be able to relax, you know what that lot are like." Ilya had promised me that no one would bully us. When I'd gotten a scholarship to Winter Valley University to study finance, I thought the days of high school bullying would be done with, but college opened up a whole new level of cliquey, in-crowd bullshit. Winter Valley was one of the more prestigious colleges in the state. Despite growing up in town, attending college here had been a pipe dream, but my high school principal had suggested I apply for a scholarship, and now I was here, working my way towards my dream of becoming an accountant.

If I'd thought that being a college freshman would remove any social dividers, I was mistaken, and Lara and I found ourselves as outsiders. Until somehow, I'd attracted the attention of Ilya Kuznetsov, the son of a Russian business magnate and the coolest guy in WVU. He had movie star looks, an accent that made my knees tremble, and was so much more sophisticated than us. There was zero chance that someone like that would ever look at me—except he had.

A few weeks ago, I'd been working on an assignment in the library, and a deep, accented voice asked if he could sit at my table. We'd got chatting and had been meeting for library dates twice a week since then. I say dates, because he was so much older and sophisticated, I thought he was just being friendly, until he'd asked me to the holiday party.

I turned and eyed my reflection in Lara's mirrored doors. Even though I wasn't excited about this party, I had taken extra care with my outfit. The green sweater dress highlighted my assets and hid my flaws, and the black over-the-knee cable tights were a nice and fashionable touch along with the ankle booties. "How do I look?"

"Amazing," Lara gushed. "Your eyes look gorgeous in that dress. Just let me add a little something to make it pop."

I stepped back and shook my head. I felt pretty and that was enough, anything more and I'd feel like a fraud. Well, more of a fraud than I already felt like rubbing elbows with the sons and daughters of senators, CEOs and even a few royals from around the world. They were the usual types who attended WVU, and not two smalltown girls from blue collar families.

"Oh please, you look so smokin' hot, Ilya is definitely going to kiss you. Maybe even slide his hands under that dress." Lara wiggled her eyebrows and I laughed.

"Can you imagine that? Him kissing me?" It was completely unthinkable that Ilya Kuznetsov, the hottest guy in college, wanted me.

"Um, damn right I can. Who better to have your first kiss as a college freshman with, than a sexy foreign Prince Charming with an accent that makes your knees go all wobbly?"

"Maybe a certain gorgeous linebacker?" I wiggled my brows at the secret on-again off-again relationship she had with Chad Manning, one of our college's star football players.

Lara's cheeks turned bright red, and she glared at me via the small vanity mirror. "It was a good enough kiss, but nothing like yours will be like."

I shook my head because I didn't want to think about it too much. I was already anxious about this party, and even more so because it was being held at Ilya's parents' house, a giant stone mansion on the hill that looked more like a castle. That was another thing that set him apart, he wasn't staying in the dorm rooms like the rest of us. He had his own self-contained apartment above his parents' garage. "Ready?"

Lara nodded and slipped on her knee-high, red Christmas boots, then checked herself out from all angles. "Do I look okay?"

"You look great," I assured her, because she did. Lara was easily one of the prettiest girls at college. If not for the fact that her mother was an HR manager and her dad a loan officer, she'd be among the most popular girls. Those perfectly respectable careers were nothing, when other parents were part of the one percent.

The party was in full swing when we arrived, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. But we were able to slip inside without being noticed, and that was okay with me.

"Looking good, Lara. Really good." Chad had spotted her right away and made his way over. "Dance with me."

I was happy for my friend despite the way my shoulders slumped at her quick abandonment. Now I was vulnerable to the wolves. Before my nerves could carry my feet out of this mansion and back to town, I spotted Ilya, and he was all I could see.

He was so good looking in his cream sweater and black wool pants, more stylish and sophisticated than the other guys in chinos and jeans. His golden blond hair was perfectly styled with the little swoop in the front, and short on the sides. His pale blue eyes locked with mine as he made his way across the room, and I had to suppress a shiver that was now familiar whenever he was nearby. How was it possible he could be so beautiful? He already had a sharp jawline that I knew would be even more gorgeous in a few years.

"Brooke, you look very beautiful."

My knees wobbled at both the compliment and his sexy accent. "Thank you, Ilya. You look good too, but you always do."

He smiled. "I'm happy you're here. I wasn't sure if you would come."

"Me either," I admitted with a shy smile. "But I'm glad I'm here now. It's a lovely house."

He shrugged. "It is all right, a little too big. Want a tour?"

"Sure. Start with your favorite part." I didn't really care about the house. I'd spent last summer working with a cleaning service to save up money to pay for whatever my scholarship wouldn't cover when I started college, and if you've seen one lifeless box, you've seen them all.

Something like surprise flashed in his blue eyes before he took my hand and entwined our fingers. "Come on."

Heat suffused my body at his possessive touch, and I looked away with a shy smile.

"What is this place?" I asked when we arrived outside of a dark room with sliding doors.

Ilya flashed a heart-stopping smile. "This is my favorite room," he said, and turned a dial on the wall.

I gasped at the sight of the library with floor-to-ceiling shelves, currently decorated for the holiday. "Stunning." I turned to him with a wide-eyed grin. "This place is amazing, Ilya."

"I thought you might think so. And look what I found." He picked up a small blue book with gilded edges that sat on a table in the middle of the room. He held it out to me with a smile I couldn't look away from. "Take it."

I looked down and gasped at the old copy of Pride and Prejudice. I took a step back and shook my head. "I can't borrow this, Ilya. It looks expensive."

"You can and you will." He shoved the book towards me. "Take it. Read it again and I will read it over the break. When I return to America, we can talk about it. Together."

Swoon. Was there anything sexier than a guy who showed an interest in your interests? I think not, he knew I loved Jane Austen, which meant he must have been paying attention to me. "Ilya, that is so sweet."

"Come on," he said, and took my free hand. "The tour must go on."

I could listen to him talk forever with his accented English and the passion in every syllable he spoke. I couldn't stop smiling throughout the tour, and it had nothing to do with the expensive furnishings and priceless art on the wall. "Nice digs."

He laughed. "Thank you. And that concludes our tour."

That meant it was time for me to go back to the party. "Thanks for showing me around, Ilya, and have a Merry Christmas." I turned away in search of an exit as humiliation burned. I thought he wanted to spend the entire party with me, but he was just being nice.

Ilya grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to him. "You can't leave yet."

"Why not?" the question stammered out of me.

"Because I want you to stay, for starters." His hands rested on my hips, and I felt my nipples harden. "And…" he pointed to the ceiling.

I looked up and found a sprig of mistletoe right above us. "You planned this," I said with a joyful smile.

"I planned to end the tour here, yes." His honesty was so refreshing I felt my crush grow even more. "Merry Christmas, Brooke." And then his lips were on mine, and I was breathless as he tipped my head back and cradled my face in his hands, deepening the kiss.

This was it, the moment I had hardly dare imagine would arrive, and I felt as if I would go up in flames. My heart raced wildly against my chest and my hands fisted in his expensive sweater. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ilya." I loosened my grip and smoothed the bunched-up cashmere.

"I liked it."

"Oh." The word came out on a breathless whisper, and I smiled nervously. "Okay."

He kissed me again, and fireworks exploded all over my body and I moaned into his mouth. When I slid my tongue against his, Ilya slipped one hand down to my butt.

More explosions went off inside of me, and when I pulled back, my skin was flushed, and I couldn't breathe. "Ilya."

He grinned. "Come." He took me back to where the party was with his hand in mine as he spoke to the kids from college. I'd never been to any college parties before, and I was shocked to see that my classmates were drinking alcohol. I guess Lara and I had lived a sheltered life. I was sticking to my soda, but halfway through the evening Ilya produced a bottle of champagne and asked if I wanted a taste.

"I'm only eighteen," I protested.

"In most of the world it is legal to drink at eighteen, only the Americans have their silly rules."

I pondered this, I'm not one to bow to peer pressure, but I was curious.

Noticing my hesitation he added, "Your choice."

I decided to throw caution to the wind, it was a night for firsts, "Okay, just a small taste."

He poured me a glass of champagne and we toasted. "To new friends. Maybe more."

It was so romantic I could hardly stand it. "I'll drink to that."

We continued chatting about nothing in particular, and eventually, the house grew quieter and quieter until it was just Ilya and me. I hadn't even noticed how many hours had passed because time flew when I was with him.

I looked around the nearly empty house in a panic, I didn't drive, and my friend had driven me here, how was I going to get home? "Where's Lara?"

"Gone to give Chad a ride home. I told her I would make sure you got home safely."

I frowned. "But you've been drinking, and I don't want you to get in trouble."

He grinned. "You really are sweet, Brooke. And beautiful. And sexy."

I shook my head because I wanted to believe his words too badly to actually believe them. "Ilya, please."

"It is the truth. It is also the truth that my driver hasn't been drinking and he will take you home when you are ready. Are you ready?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm not."

"Perfect, because I'm not ready to say good night to you, Brooke."

With that, his lips softly touched mine and I felt his strong arms around me. As I gave in to the sensations coursing through my body, I realized that tonight was going to be a night for other firsts.

***

"I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation, Brooke," Lara said, but I was not in the mood for logic.

A bitter laugh escaped as we sat in her bedroom the weekend after winter break ended. "Yeah, the explanation is that he got what he wanted, my V-card, and now he's ghosted me." We'd made love in his bed that night of the party and it was the most magical night of my life. He'd kissed me on the porch of his parents' mansion, with promises of what the new year would bring for us, once he returned from Russia.

"You don't know that. Maybe something happened and he couldn't leave Moscow."

"Something like what, war? A ban on email?" I hadn't heard from Ilya since he kissed me goodbye. I'd always hoped my first time would be wonderful, and it was. Up until the point he vanished without a trace. Tears formed in my eyes, I was such an idiot. "I'm so stupid. I knew it was a trick and I fell right into the trap."

"It doesn't make sense," she insisted. "If he just wanted to get laid, there are plenty of girls he could've had." She shook her head. "Don't write him off just yet, Brooke."

"I don't need to since he's already written me off. I went by his parents' house yesterday and you know what I found?"

Her eyes rounded in shock. "You went there?"

"I did. The place was buzzing with activity. Movers and a big For Sale sign out in the yard." I shook my head in disbelief as more tears fell. "He knew he wasn't coming back. That promise to talk about Pride and Prejudice when he returned after the holidays was bullshit. He put on a good show." I ignored the way my heart shattered for at least the thousandth time.

"It doesn't make sense, Brooke. Have you tried to contacting him?"

"Of course, but his cell phone number wouldn't work. And it's not like I can try looking for him in the Moscow telephone directory—that's assuming I could even read Cyrillic—because his last name is the Russian equivalent of Smith." That was a lie. I actually had tried looking, but even with an online translator and hours of scrolling it was hopeless, but Lara didn't need to know how pathetic I was.

"I'm sorry, Brooke. I never should have encouraged you to go to that party."

"Of course you should have. My only regret is that I gave him more than my body. It's the heartache that's unbearable. The night was a total disaster for me. But at least you and Chad have been inseparable ever since." And that was the one small glimmer of happiness that came from that night.

Lara tilted her head to the side in a crushing look of sympathy that made my heartache intensify. "Not worth it, if this is the cost to you."

I shrugged. "It's okay. I want you to be happy."

"And what about you? There's no way in hell you think you deserve this."

"No, I don't. But I was too eager to believe his lies, and this is what I got." Why would I ever have thought I was the type of girl who got the guy? One who was smart and handsome and charismatic? Guys like Ilya didn't go for girls like me and I knew that, yet I believed the lie anyway. "This time next year, I'll forget that Ilya Kuznetsov ever existed."