Prima - Alta Hensley Page 0,47

my cookie.”

“Oatmeal, right?”

She laughed, her ponytail swinging. “Nope. If we’re going to dance with the devil, I can’t have him thinking I’m frightened. The devil’s food one has my name written all over it.”

“It’s yours,” I promised as she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind her that I suddenly wondered what she’d meant by “not again.”

I had questions about that as well as who she meant by “anyone else.” I pulled the oatmeal cookie out and began to eat it as I looked across my desk and added the questions to the agenda for tonight. First, we’d have dinner and then I’d make sure I got every one of my questions answered. As I twisted the waxed paper tight around the remaining cookie, I couldn’t help but grin thinking that when we were alone, there would be nothing to keep me from extracting the price required if Clara tried to squirm out of telling me what was really on her mind. Picking up my phone, I dialed and made arrangements that would assure we’d be undisturbed for our “meeting,” which I was certain was going to get very personal indeed.

16

Clara

“Hi,” I said as I pulled open the front door to find Alek on my porch, flowers in one hand and a bottle of wine that I didn’t need to ask to know it would be non-alcoholic. “Thank you,” I said, smiling as I reached out with both hands to relieve him of his unnecessary, but extremely thoughtful gifts.

“Whoa,” Alek said, lifting the bunch of flowers above his head. “Don’t be a greedy girl. This is for you”—he held out the bottle—“and these, are for your babushka,” he added, lowering his arm again.

“That’s…”

“Sweet,” said a very familiar voice that sounded far less frail than the body it belonged to appeared.

“Baba, you’re supposed to be resting,” I said.

“I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

“Don’t say things like that,” I admonished even as a shudder ran through me.

“Dorogoy, how well you live a life is what matters, not how long,” she said, lifting a gnarled hand to pat against my cheek before she turned back to Alek. “And having a handsome man come bearing gifts to woo my granddaughter and her old babushka, is living very well indeed.”

Alek laughed and swept into a low bow, offering the bouquet to her before slipping an arm around her waist and gently guiding her back down the foyer as if he’d done so a thousand times before. I remembered how he’d said his mother had died, and I suddenly wondered how long she’d been sick. Forgetting about making a quick escape, as had originally been my plan, I draped my sweater over the small foyer table and followed them down the hall.

I smiled as I watched Alek settle my grandmother into her chair, not giving a single gesture to indicate he was either put out or in a hurry.

“Let me put these into water for you,” I offered, moving to take the flowers from my grandmother.

“Thank you,” Olga said, allowing me to take them from her even as she lifted a finger to tap against the bottle I’d tucked beneath my arm. “You are planning on sharing that, aren’t you?”

I hadn’t been, but God forbid I didn’t display impeccable manners when we had a guest.

“If you’ll allow me?” Alek offered, relieving me of the wine.

“The kitchen is through here,” I said, leading the way. Once we were alone, I turned and nearly bumped into him. “Oh, sorry.” The small space seemed a bit too cozy with the huge man occupying it with me.

“Don’t be.” Alek grinned. “Where are your glasses?”

Turning again, I pointed to the cabinet, and, when he pressed in behind me to open it, shuffling forward until my body bumped into the countertop, I giggled. “I could have gotten them—”

“But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to do this,” he said, setting the wine down and slipping his arms around my waist to cage me in before dropping his head to whisper against my ear. “You look beautiful tonight, Clara.”

He reached up to pull my hair aside in order to nuzzle my neck. I shuddered at the sensation, my nipples instantly peaking beneath my dress, and, when he lifted his head, I turned to face him.

“And you clean up exceptionally well,” I said.

His head lowered again, and both wine and flowers were forgotten as his lips met mine. Instant heat ran through me, every nerve