“My mother was an alcoholic,” she reminded him. “Quentin used drugs. I didn’t want any part of either one. I separated myself from the rest of the world as best I could and poured myself into college and the books I was writing.”

“Baby, I just want to point out that you did a crap job of separating yourself from the rest of the world. You have single parents and their children, street kids, three of the funniest older women I’ve ever encountered and two older men who all dote on you.”

She sent him a small smile. “Yes, well, I doted on them but had no idea they returned the feeling.”

She took a deep breath, her gaze clinging to his. He knew her so well now that it was apparent to him she was going to give him another revelation about herself. That was her way. He gave up information and she responded in kind, not wanting him to feel vulnerable. Looking out for him. Bog, he loved that about her.

“I never feel like anyone can love the real me. Or even see the real me. It makes me feel like a fraud. I had to hide my dislike of my brother-in-law once I was old enough to realize he was cheating on my sister, doing drugs, and living off the money she made. Then there’s Billows. I’m working for a man who is part of some criminal ring. He isn’t the only one involved. He has businesses, people who pay into his accounts. Most of them are not legitimate, but I’m doing his books and not telling a soul.” She flashed a little self-deprecating smile at him. “Until you. I have no idea why or how I managed to give you the real me. I don’t know how you see me under all the layers of guilt and survival instincts I have. Of course, I think you do have a tendency to glamorize me. I’m definitely not an angel, and I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“You don’t have to be everyone else’s version of an angel. Only mine. My angel can have a bit of a temper, not that I see many signs of it. But it’s all right with me. If you were society’s standard of perfect, you never would be able to live with me.”

“You always say the perfect thing to me.”

He was grateful she thought so. At least she didn’t think he was a controlling dictator. He spent the rest of dinner laughing with her. He was convinced she could make the mundane fun. Time was running out on him. It would be time to play with his band soon. He could see Player, Master and Keys making their way to the table.

“I’m going to give you a gift tonight,” he said. “I wrote a song for you. It’s yours. I’ll be playing it on the piano at some point.”

Her head went up, and again he got those shiny, liquid eyes. Eyes shining for him. “You wrote a song for me?”

He nodded. “Music is my way of expressing myself. I don’t want you to have any misgivings at all about the way I feel about you. I’ve never written a song for anyone else. I write music and play it, but I’m no lyricist. This is my first time writing words to express my feelings. Usually, it’s all about the music with me.”

“You’re too good to me, Andrii. I have no idea how to keep us equal in giving. I don’t have any creative talent like you do with music.”

He flashed her a grin to cover the real reaction to her genuine response. She was giving him so much already, she just didn’t know. “It could be a disaster. You might hate it.”

“I’ll love it because you wrote it for me.”

His three Torpedo Ink brothers made it to their table. He stood to meet them. “Let me introduce my lady, Azelie, to you. Babe, these are the men who own the construction company with me and are crazy music fiends, just like me.”

He indicated the man she would be familiar with. Keys gave off the impression of a stalking jungle cat, with his fluid muscles, dark hair and piercing hazel eyes.

“This is Lazar Alexeev. Do you remember him coming into the coffeehouse with me that first time? Lazar is the man who knew about the place.” He had known because he’d followed Azelie there.

Keys sent her a grin and gave her a little courtly bow. “Nice to finally meet the woman who captured Andrii.”

That sweet color slid up her neck into her face, flushing her skin a wild rose. “I don’t know that I’ve captured him, but I love being with him.”

“You took him prisoner, woman. I’m Kir Vasiliev. Known your man a long time, and I’ve got a wife who manages to twist me around her little finger. Don’t know how she does it, but I see that same look on Andrii’s face that stares back at me in the mirror when I’m trying to figure out how I got so damn lucky.”

Kir Vasiliev could be a very intimidating man. He was big with a great deal of muscle. Scarred and tattooed. He looked as if he’d been to prison, which he had, many times. Azelie didn’t look intimidated. She laughed at Kir’s—Master’s—comment. The tone was low and soft but sounded like a melody running through Maestro’s head. He reached for her hand and brought it to his chest.

“Yeah, you did, babe. I think you cast a spell.”

She laughed again, the sound inviting. “First he calls me an angel, and now I’m a witch.”

“Love the way you laugh,” the third man said. “Name’s Gedeon Lazaroff. You have that same perfect pitch Seychelle has. Do you sing?”

Gedeon, aka Player, had striking blue eyes, was tall and muscular. He had light brown hair and wore a mustache and a small, barely there, beard.

Azelie looked horrified. “If I sing, the children put their hands over their ears.”

“She can’t lie worth shit,” Keys said. “That’s one thing you’ve got going for you, Andrii.”

“They don’t put their hands over their ears,” Azelie conceded, “but I don’t push my luck.” She sent Keys a little smile.

“We’re going to have to get this show on the road,” Maestro said. “Are you going to be all right sitting here by yourself?”

“Of course. But I might go say hello to Lana. She’s got a table right near the piano. There’s four chairs, and it’s just her and the man she came in with.”

“I’ll walk you over there,” Maestro offered, and stood up to circle around the small table. Things were working out exactly like he needed them to.

*   *   *

Azelie took Andrii’s hand as they walked around the tables to join Lana and the man she was with. Lana jumped up and hugged her. “I’m so happy you’re here.” Her gaze flicked to Andrii and their linked hands. “Hi, Andrii. We came to be supportive tonight. You know we’re crazy about your music.” She switched her attention back to Azelie. “I go to most of the Crows Flying gigs.”

“I think everyone knew about the band but me,” Azelie said. “I don’t get out much.”

“They’re all over the internet,” Lana said helpfully. She turned to the man who had stood when Azelie and Andrii approached the table. “This is my brother, Kasimir. He’s not too bad until he gets in his bossy mode. Kas, this is Azelie. She goes to the college.”

Kasimir Popov, aka Preacher, had curls no matter what he did to tame his hair. He looked far less intimidating than the band members because of those curls. That was deceptive, Azelie decided. He had muscle running beneath his clothing. He might look friendly, but he had that same reserve Andrii’s bandmates had.

Preacher flashed a grin. “Someone needs to boss her.” He shook hands with Andrii. “Would you care to join us? We have the room.”

“I’ll be playing shortly, but I’d appreciate your looking after Azelie.”

“You got it, brother,” Kasimir responded easily.

Azelie looked from Kasimir to Andrii. They knew each other. She couldn’t tell with Lana, but she was certain there was a connection to Kasimir. Maybe it was the fact that Lana attended the Crows Flying gigs and Kasimir went with her. Still, Andrii didn’t really look at Lana, and she was gorgeous. She was one of the most beautiful women Azelie had ever seen.

Andrii caught her chin and tilted her face up to his. “I’ll be the one playing either guitar or piano. You can focus on me.” He murmured the command against her lips, his tone low, the words barely spoken aloud, but she heard them, and it made her smile. Did he really think any other man in the room could compare to him?

She licked along the seam of his lips, deliberately inviting his kiss. He was a member of a popular band, and there were bound to be others watching them, but in that moment, she didn’t care. She wanted only to reassure him. Maybe it was a mistake after all. He kissed her. Gathered her into his arms, locked her against him and kissed her. Not gently. Passionately. Claiming her. Demanding surrender, and she gave herself to him because that was what he needed. That was what she wanted. It was only when she was certain she was going to burst into flames that he lifted his head. Even then, his thumb whispered over her lips.

“Be good while I’m working.”

She gave him her mischievous smile. “I’m an angel, remember?”

“Stay that way until I’m with you,” he cautioned and held out her chair.

Azelie obligingly sank into it and watched him saunter across the floor, threading his way easily through the tables to join the other three members of Crows Flying.

“I love their music,” Lana said. She waved her hand to take in the entire bar. “You can see how popular they are.”

Azelie wanted to enjoy the moment. Enjoy watching her man play with his band for the first time. He’d set the date up himself. Chosen to surprise her. The food had been delicious, and he had been totally focused on her, not paying any attention to the female interest directed his way. She’d noticed, but he hadn’t seemed to. Or if he had, he didn’t care. Azelie chose to put aside her questions about Andrii’s friendship with Lana and her brother until she was back home and alone. Right now, she was determined to soak in every moment of her dream date.

Lana grinned at her. “You like that man.”

Azelie nodded. “More than like. I really hope he’s real.”