The Prelude (6 page)

“
Yes, they’re the ones.” Glancing into Adriana’s face is like looking through a mirror. We have the same features. The only differences being that she’s twenty—three years younger than me—and her eyes are a deep sea blue like many other Russians.

“
I want to meet them.” She steps around me and heads over to the table before I can do anything to stop her.

She prances right up to
 where Luca Martuccio’s sits. ”Hello, I’m Adriana Dostov.” She holds out her hand for him to take. He stands up at once, his gaze locked on my sister’s face. I smirk and hold back a laugh.

“
Luca Martuccio,” he answers, looking lovesick and stupid. I steal a glance at Erin whose gaze is locked on me. I shake off the image of her lying on her backside. Instead, I choose to focus on the hot pink scarf she wears. She averts her eyes almost as soon as I turn toward her.

Rafe Martuccio stands and shakes my hand. After I introduce my sister to all of them
, we briefly discuss our enthusiasm over our proposed business arrangement. I pretty much have to force Adriana to end her conversation with the younger Martuccio brother who gushes over my baby sister. I remind myself to keep an eye on him in the future. Guys like Luca have mastered the
hook, charm, and throw them in the sack
move. I would know because I’m one of them.

“
Have you considered an answer?” I ask Erin who has kept quiet the entire time. Her eyes briefly scan the others sitting among her group.

“
To which question, Sir Maestro?” she answers, smirking. She’s the smart ass type. I love it. “There were a couple of things you asked me about, remember?”

Shit. This is
definitely the kind of woman I like, strong and witty. “I have an excellent memory, Ms. Angelo.” Blush rushes into her cheeks. “Do you have the answers to both questions now? Or just the one?”

Glancing around the table
, she turns back to me with a smug grin and says, “Well, it seems the issue of dinner has already been handled. I mean, you’re sitting right over there. Not too far away from me. That kinda takes care of issue number one. Do you agree?”

“
Points to you for being sneaky and evasive,” I answer.

“
Evasive? How so?” Erin raises her left eyebrow and gives me a slight smile. She’s enjoying her ability to make me squirm. Strangely, I can’t ever think of a moment when anyone has ever made me this nervous in the past.

“
You’re the one who created the Gothic ballerina costume? So exciting! It totally and completely rocks. So awesome, I’ve heard.” Adriana and her overdone American idioms rescue me. She steps over to Erin’s seat and holds out her hand for Erin to shake. “Alek talked about it all day yesterday.” Then again, maybe she’s not rescuing anything. I’ll remember to strangle my sister later on.

“
Yes, Erin has outdone herself on Black Butterfly’s new line,” Rafe says, beaming. “But then, I always knew someone with such talents was destined for great things. She was an absolute delight to have in my class. All the other students looked to her for guidance. It’s like she was born with the eye for design.”

The older Martuccio brother has a
 thing for Erin, and it’s pretty bad. His lines sound even more desperate than the lend-an-ear statement Nikolai used on my sister a while ago. Competition—I never dodged it in the past. I sure as hell don’t intend to do so now.

“
Okay, everybody, please. You’ve all made your point now,” Erin says, her cheeks are filled with blush again. With her exotic dark looks, the color in her face gives her a raw, but innocent kind of appeal. I can barely take my eyes off of her. I don’t even want to. “Luca also had a part in the designs. They aren’t just mine.”

Luca shrugs and makes a whirling movement with his hand.
“Very little. I only attached lace to the bodice. The design belongs completely to our rising star. I don’t know why she’s acting this way. It’s about time you got noticed, Erin.”

Time to rein the Martuccio
brothers back under my control. I am the one who commissioned them to create designs for my show. I turn to Erin and say, “I expect you to have found a name for my new proposed line soon. And then we can discuss it over a proper dinner together.” She opens her mouth, but Rafe speaks for her.

“
Of course Erin will have a name for her line. She’s also available to discuss your design needs anytime you wish, Mr. Dostov,” Rafe says, almost choking on the last few words. It hurts him to move over and share this spotlight with me. But I’m Alek Dostov, the world renowned maestro who has made a name for himself by the age of twenty-three. That’s some pretty big shit and I know it. The Martuccio’s need my name attached to one of their lines to survive in this sea of fashion sharks.

“
I look forward to it,” I say to Erin and then return to my seat, dragging my sister along with me. When the Black Butterfly design team finishes dinner, Erin walks out behind them without even a glance in my direction. I notice because I couldn’t look away.

* * *

I ease the Aston Martin to a stop behind her taxi. The car that has followed hers ever since she left the restaurant passes by the driveway leading up to what I assume is her apartment building. I wanted to see what the mystery driver was up to which is how I ended up sitting here outside my newly hired designer’s house.

Shortly after Erin
’s group left, Mother backed down. The alcohol had done a number on her, and she started mumbling something about my father being in China. I won’t lie. I was relieved. Adriana and Nikolai agreed to ride with Mother while my attention was ripped toward an argument going on between two men standing just outside the doorway, Rafe and his brother Luca.

They say Russians have the stealth in war
, the ability to separate our minds from all things emotional. But Italians have the tempers of the gods. And these two were going to it so shamelessly; they didn’t even see Erin and Carla walk toward their separate cars. That was when I noticed the one parked behind Erin’s taxi.

As soon as hers pulled off
, the black sedan moved away from the curb. Call it instinct, or maybe it’s just that I spent enough time learning how a gang targets someone. Either way, the warning going off in my head wasn’t going to leave me alone until I pacified the cause of it. And right then, something was pounding inside me, telling me that Erin was in danger.

After briefly saying goodnight to my family
, I rushed toward my car and headed in the direction I saw the sedan last move toward. Swallowing hard, I exhaled when I caught up with both the taxi and the sedan at a stoplight. Whatever plans the driver had for Erin were obviously thrown off by my arrival.

She
’ll either peg me as one of those strange men who follow women home, or she’ll think I’m a desperate bastard who doesn’t know how to handle the word
no
. That last part holds some truth in thought. I won’t deny it, which is why I’m about to make a fool out of myself when I get out of this car.

She tells the taxi driver goodnight and then does a double take when her gaze turns toward me stepping out of the car. I stuff my hands in my pocket and walk up to where she stands on the sidewalk running along the outside of the building.

“You followed me home?” she asks, an incredulous look on her full lips. Hell no, I won’t vocally answer that question.

“
I don’t do the stalker thing,” I say, sounding weak. “You left without seeing me first, the way I asked you to do.”

That statement brings a sarcastic smirk to her face.
“Oh, that’s right. I remember who you are now. The great Aleksandr Dostovsky wouldn’t be caught dead doing something like that, now would he?” she teases.

“I told you before, it’s
Alek Dostov. That name is easier on the less acrobatic tongue,” I explain. Her cheeks turn a deep pink color. I can’t help but to smile.

“Less acrobatic? As in, your shorter name is easier for us Americans to say? That’s pretty mean, teasing me that way.”

“I’d never mock you for being American. Mother would rip me apart for doing something like that to one of her people.”

“I see. Your mother’s American?”

“Born and raised in Austin. What do you call Texas? Ah yes, the Lone Star State.” I’m flattered by her intrigue with my dual heritage.

“That explains your odd accent, and your sister’s vocabulary. She’s a bit over the top with the way she uses American slang.” She’s lost in an afterthought of some type. I don’t think she realizes that she’s smiling to herself.

“There’s not a thing wrong with being on top every now and then. What do you think?” I ask, watching the color in her cheeks deepen to a deeper shade of pink. I enjoy saying things to make her blush.

“I think we need to stick to the reason you stopped by,” she mutters without looking directly at me. I can’t help but feel a tad frustrated.
An image of her full breasts, and the wondrously delicious things I could do to them flashes through my mind. I clear my throat and pull out my diversion tactic.

“
Your contract,” I say, holding out the paper.

Her face droops.
 She’s disappointed; but she’s trying to hide it. Everything about her is so controlled. I wish I could act that way. Then maybe I’d make Mother happy by settling down with a wealthy woman and giving her a lot of little Aleks to enjoy. The thought terrifies me.

“
This says you’ll have exclusive rights to the Black Butterfly brand,” she reads aloud. “I don’t know, I…”

“
Only for this line. Meaning you can’t sell the ideas to my rivals.” I like the way the wind teases the loose strands of hair blowing around her face.

She tucks her full bottom lip in and frowns. After a short moment
, she says, “I’m going to need some time to look over this. And I’d rather Luca gets a chance to see it before I give you a solid answer.”

“
Understandable,” I mutter and stuff my hands back in my pocket. What is it about Erin that does this to me? I’ve never had a woman bewitch me before. I always hear my friends talk about stupid things like that happening to them. Even Nikolai has experienced a bewitching moment before. But this is the first time I’ve ever felt the urge, the desire to protect a woman I barely know. It’s time to run. I can’t. There’s something about her eyes. I guess it’s only appropriate that a spell start inside the soul’s windows. Hell, listen to me. I’m even reciting poetry in my head instead of using my charm to rope Erin Angelo in for the goal.

“
Geez.” She bonks her head. It’s a cute gesture. “Why didn’t you just tell me about how rude I’m being? Seriously, where are my manners? Would you like to come in for a drink?” she asks, her dark eyes scanning my face as though she can read my thoughts.

“
I have somewhere I need to be later on. But I will take a check rain for dinner tomorrow night.”

She bursts out laughing.
“You mean to say rain check?”

I feel like a dumb ass. This is why I don
’t use American idioms. I’ll leave those to Adriana from now on. Even I start laughing. Joking around with a woman like this is new to me.

Why am I turning down her invitation to come inside?
 There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing than going inside her apartment and throwing her down on her bed. I bet her sheets are made of silk and the light fragrance drifting around her covers them. I could easily get lost in the world of Erin Angelo.

“
What about dinner?” I ask again.

“
I told you, I don’t date bosses, of any type,” she begins. “Besides, I have a yoga session tomorrow afternoon. It’s a 3 o’clock class. That doesn’t give me much time for a life outside of the design house.”

She
’s turning me down, pushing me away. I can’t ever remember a time a woman has ever done so. Erin might not realize it, but she now has my complete attention.

“
I have a solution for our dilemma, I do believe.” I turn up the charm in my smile.

“
Is that right?”

“
I’m a Maestro. We always know how to fine tune the beginning of a song. Fuck!” My line didn’t exactly come out the way I’d hoped.

Erin holds back her laugh. The longer she tries to hold it in
, the more her face crumples. Even I make a whispery laugh. “That was pretty bad, huh?”

“
No. I mean, I do appreciate your efforts. I don’t think I’ve ever been compared to a song before,” she says, giggling. I like the way it sounds.

“
Good. I’ve never used such a weak line, either.” We both laugh after I admit to my inability to play her.

“
I wouldn’t say your line was bad. It’s cute.”

“
That’s even worse than being considered weak.” I shake my head, lowering it and feeling embarrassed, another emotion I don’t normally experience at this stage of the game.

“
No, really, I get it. I kinda see how meeting someone new would be like the beginning of an opera song. What’s that part called again?” She massages the right side of her face while she’s thinking. Even that small gesture touches me.