Page 21 of Delicious Surrender
“He does that to everyone. That’s Dimitri Ivanov. He’s the biggest manufacturer of steel in Russia. Scary mother.” She took the glass and a cocktail napkin. “I’ve got this. Take a breather in the back.”
She felt like a chickenshit, but Brynne was glad to escape.
From the kitchen, she heard raised voices and panicked. Somebody wasn’t happy. Brynne made a snap decision to duck down the back stairs.
She could hear Melinda’s raised voice. She didn’t want to leave her alone any longer and walked back up to see her standing there in the doorway, telling the giant man he wasn’t allowed in the back. When he saw Brynne, he stalked toward her. “Why didn’tyoubring my drink, Kiska?”
Brynne stammered out, “I had to use the ladies’ room.”
He nodded, appeased for the moment. “I want you to serve me when I am here. Only you. Understand?”
“Yes, sure.”
“Horosho. Spasibo.” He cleared his throat, but it still sounded raspy. “I mean, good, thank you.”
They both sighed when he went back to his table.
“My goodness, Tink,” Melinda said. “He’s got a thing for you.”
“Where the hell is Bill? I felt very vulnerable out there.”
“Good question.” Melinda looked at her watch. “Will you be okay? I’ll pop downstairs and see if I can find him. The security monitor is back.”
“Sure. I’ll be fine,” she said, concealing her agitation.
Brynne kept herself busy tidying the area behind the bar, turning all the bottles so the labels were facing front. When she turned back, Dimitri was leaning over the counter, watching her. She squealed in shock and jumped back, dropping a plastic jug of orange juice. How did he move within a few feet without her noticing? He toyed with an ornate gold ring on his baby finger, drawing her eyes to the tattoos on his enormous hands. This close, she could see more ink on the thick cords of his neck beneath his collar. Finally, she met his eyes; they made her feel like she was an item on the menu. She broke out of her daze to retrieve the bottle of juice and said, “Thank god that wasn’t a priceless bottle of scotch.”
He shrugged. “Da. I would pay for any bottle you dropped because of me.”
She focused on putting the mixes in the fridge and feigned a casual tone. “That wouldn’t be necessary, but thank you.”
He took advantage of her proximity and clasped herforearm. She pulled away, but his grip lessened enough to slide to her wrist. He looked at his large hand, dwarfing her wrist. “So delicate, my little Kiska.”
She tried to tug free, but he held fast. “What does that mean?”
His mouth curved in a smile. “Pureis the literal translation. Where I come from, it meanskitten.” He turned her clenched fist over and pried her fingers open. “You are a little cat, prepared to fight. I like that in my women.”
“Let me go, please.” She hated how weak her voice sounded.
His thick, calloused fingers held fast. “Do I frighten you?” he said with a gleam in his eye.
Brynne’s mouth dried, and she couldn’t push any words out.Don’t let him see how he unnerves you.She watched as he entwined his fingers in hers and spread her hand open, then with his forefinger he lightly traced the lines on her palm, one by one. His touch was so at odds with his size, it left a trail of sensation in its wake. She tugged again, and he let her hand go. She realized why when Garrick came up and greeted him.
“Mr. Ivanov, it’s good to see you. It’s been a while. Can we get you anything for last call? We are closing shortly.” His tone was friendly, with an undertone of steel.
Dimitri looked at him, and his lips curled in an insincere smile. “I will have a blueberry tea served by Miss Tinkerbell.”
“Certainly. She’ll bring it over as soon as it’s ready.”
The expectation was clear. Ivanov nodded and strode backto the table.
Garrick looked at her, his eyes narrowed. “What are you waiting for? Go brew some orange pekoe, and I’ll prep the liqueurs.”
Brynne hurried to the back. She prepped the teapot and made a tray with a couple of shortbread biscuits and a cloth napkin to wrap the snifter.
Garrick gave her the Grand Marnier and amaretto mixture. She walked carefully over to the table, concentrating on each step. Dimitri had removed his jacket and was sitting back, his crisp white shirt revealing a hard, muscular chest and flat stomach. His legs were blatantly spread, as if waiting for someone to kneel between them. The silky material of his pants clung to his massive thighs. Brynne refused to meet his eyes and laid the tray carefully on the table in front of him. She was turning away when he grabbed her wrist.
“Kiska, pour the tea for me? Pozhaluysta.Please.”