over my shoulder. He’s already looking at me. My breath catches. My stomach warms. For a moment we just stare at each other, the air hanging heavy. I find tears pricking at the backs of my eyes. God, I’ve missed him. I suck in a breath to compose myself. Thank you, I mouth.
I swear I see the subtle nod of his head before he turns away.
21
____________
Alena
Emily, my husband and I sit in the dining room. My husband is at the head of the table. I sit on his right. The spare place opposite me, between my husband and Emily, has been reserved for Dimitri, who has not yet arrived.
I clear my throat. “I thought, er, Terrance would be eating with us,” I say casually. When he’s here he usually joins us for dinner.
“No,” my husband says, “he decided to return to London early.”
I stifle a smile. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dimitri had something to do with that. “So soon? How unfortunate for all of us.” My sarcasm is lost on Edgar as it always is. I glance over to Emily to catch her eye and wink.
She’s not looking at me. She hasn’t even heard me from the looks of it. She’s got her head turned, watching the doorway. She’s practically vibrating in her chair. “Where’s Mr Wolf?”
“I’m sure he’s coming,” I say with more bite than I intended.
“Do you think I should go up to his room and see if everything’s okay?”
My stomach stabs. Leave him alone, I want to yell. I don’t.
I clear my throat. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
“What if he’s lost? This is such a big house.”
Before Emily can jump out of her chair, Dimitri appears. He’s changed out of his travelling suit. He wears a pressed pair of light grey slacks that showcase his strong thighs and slim hips. A black polo shirt stretches snugly across his wide, defined chest. His hair is slightly damp from the shower, the ends curling over his collar.
God, he is beautiful. So beautiful I could cry.
His eyes search the room until they find mine. Our gazes lock. My breath is stolen from me. He looked for me. Me.
He tears his gaze away. “Sorry I’m late,” he says as he walks to his place. “I was on an important call.”
“That’s not a problem, good chap,” my husband says with a light-hearted tone. If either Emily or I were ever late to the table, he’d rant and rave.
Dimitri takes his seat. It’s not lost on me that he nudges the chair closer to Emily as he pulls it in underneath him. I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Dimitri proceeds to ignore me completely as he inquiries about Emily’s day: was that her practicing piano earlier, what a lovely sound, how long has she been playing, would she play something for him later?
He’s…flirting with her.
Bastard. He’s doing this on purpose. Why would he do this?
After every single one of our scams, each time Dimitri had to flirt with an unsuspecting mark, he would bundle me in his arms and whisper over and over against my ear how much he cared nothing for them, that I was the one he loved, the one he wanted. It hurt to see him pretending, but I never doubted that his coy smile and sweet words were anything other than pretence.
Now…now I’m not sure what I think.
I sense eyes on me. Mrs Bates is standing behind my husband, waiting on orders like the lapdog she is. Usually it’s a maid standing there. Why is she here? Probably because of Mr Wolf. She’s staring at me, eyes narrowed.
Shit.
I can’t keep looking at Dimitri. She’s already suspicious. I force my eyes down and command myself not to look at him again, despite how, like magnets to metal, they keep wanting to find their way back to his face.
Every laugh from Emily is a cut to my stomach. Every pretty thing he says to her is a stab to my heart. I want to throw up in my lap. I try to ignore it. But I can’t shut out my ears.
My appetite’s gone. I push food around on my plate, slowly dying inside and not being able to show it. I’m sickened by this behaviour from him. He’s doing it to hurt me. It’s torture, but I can’t make myself leave, excuse myself with a headache or something. The deepest part of me, the part that has longed for his presence for five long years, just wants