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.
