the courthouse in jeans.”
He turned around and opened the front door. “I changed before the hearing.”
“Yes, you did.”
The car he’d ordered was idling outside. He put his hand up when the driver started to get out, and opened the door for Jada himself. “After you,” he said.
She slid into the car and he got in after her. She was looking down, a strange expression on her face, then she looked back at him. “I haven’t been on a date since…you know since when.”
“Is this a date?” he asked.
Her eyes widened. “Not really, but…well, it sort of is.”
“I’m not certain I’ve ever really been on a date,” he said.
“That can’t be true,” she said, looking out the window at the passing view as the car started moving. He watched where she watched, taking in the lights smearing across the darkness as they drove on. She was seeing the city for the first time. It was interesting to see it through her eyes, to see it with wonder and excitement.
“I don’t date women, princess. I sleep with them.”
“I see,” she said, her words clipped.
“You find me crude. I understand that, but I also don’t lie.”
“I do appreciate that.”
“But, for the purposes of tonight,” he said, not understanding quite why the words rolling around in his head were giving him pleasure, only that they were, “we are on a date.”
“I think I can handle that if you can.”
“I have dodged enemy gunfire, and on more than one occasion, not dodged it entirely, so I think I can handle going on a date with my wife.”
His words hung in the air. They’d seemed louder than anything either of them had said before. And they seemed to just float there.
He had never called her that before. Never referred to her as his wife. Because while he considered them married in the eyes of the law, he’d never thought of her with the title attached.
So maybe she was right. Maybe marriage was more than paper, even to him. But it didn’t explain why he’d suddenly called her his wife.
“It’s okay,” she said as the car slowed. “I’ll let it go if you will.”
He nodded, aware that in the dim lighting she might not have seen.
The car came to a complete stop and again, he halted the driver, getting out and then rounding to Jada’s side to open it for her.
He extended his hand and clasped hers in his. She felt so good, so soft and warm. And then he didn’t let go. “Since we’re on a date,” he said, leading her up the lit, white stairs that led into the opera house.
They walked in and the lobby was filled with people, glittering from head to toe in designer gowns, tuxes and enough gems to fill the vaults of the World Bank.
Alik watched Jada’s eyes as they walked through the opulent entryway. And he took notice of the high-gloss, cara-mel-colored marble floor, the pillars, the ceiling. Took notice of the chandelier, hanging low above them, dripping with crystals.
It had been a long time since he’d been impressed by such things. A long time since he’d even bothered to notice. When he’d been a boy, taken into the organized crime business, he’d been stunned by the glamor, by the wealth. And at some point, he had gotten used to it, and it had become tarnished by the kinds of activities he knew were often involved in the acquisition of such things.
Funny how, though he’d inhabited the world for most of this life, he had never loved it. Had never felt entirely settled in it.
Through Jada’s eyes, things seemed glittery again. Strange. Interesting. And wonderful in its way.
“We’re up here,” he said, gesturing to the curved staircase that led away from the crowd.
“Don’t tell me you have some sort of private box.”
“The royal box,” he said. “Actually, it’s the box the last Tsar of Russia and his wife used to use when they visited Paris and got a craving for theater. It was designed specifically for them, and I think our host found himself quite clever putting me in this particular box.”
“Tsar Alik. It’s not so bad.”
“Tsarina,” he said, bowing slightly to her, gratified by the flush of pink in her golden cheeks. He took her hand in his and led her up the stairs, into the booth. A heavy velvet curtain in a robin’s-egg blue was held back by thick, velvet ties. Matching curtains were tied back around the front part of the box, keeping the far recesses