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After that, we delve into a delicious stew with potatoes and chard. I devour a piece of bread and butter to soak up the thick liquid.
“Solanum has found itself in some trouble,” Nikolai tells me, keeping me up to date while making conversation. “Gargarin’s men have been boasting about selling drugs there. They caught the DEA’s attention, and they sent agents undercover. It was a massive bust. We’re not sure who was caught and who’s only laying low.”
“What does it mean for the business?” I ask. “Are you dealing drugs?”
“Never,” Nikolai replies with a slight shake of his head. “Drugs kill.”
“And guns don’t?” I challenge, remembering that he’s the biggest arms dealer in the area.
“They do, but only if people want them to,” he tells me, his gray eyes serious. “Drugs give you no choice. They wrap their addictive tentacles around your brain and control you until there’s nothing left of you. I despise everything about them.”
“The idea of you fighting for some noble cause is extremely unsettling.”
“Get used to it, serdtse,” he responds. “It’s not very effective to win a woman’s heart by lying to her.”
“I didn’t say I had a change of heart. I just said it is weird.”
He smiles. “More wine?”
“We already finished a bottle,” I comment, noticing a slight slur in my speech.
“It’s a good thing I brought another one.”
“We probably shouldn’t,” I counter. “It will be too much for me.”
“Too much?” he echoes and tilts his head to the side as if thinking about it. “Well, for one, it’s Friday. If there’s a day to have too much, it’s Friday. But if you want another reason, how about I simply tell you the truth?”
I widen my eyes and nod silently.
“I’m enjoying your company, and I don’t want the night to end just yet.”
The effect his words have on me is more potent than the wine we’ve drunk.
My pulse quickens as I realize I’m not the only one. Nikolai might’ve been drinking his wine faster than he usually does, but it still looked to me like he was drowning something. Could it be desire? Is he hard right now?
I nod my head, fearing that my voice will fail me if I agree verbally. Nikolai flashes me another smile. He brings the new bottle over and pours it in our empty glasses.
“To you, moye serdtse,” he says, lifting his glass in a toast. “To a happy life together.”
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes and smile instead. “To us.”
We clink the glasses and drink. I lean over my empty dessert plate, propping my elbow against the table and resting my chin against my palm.
My cheeks are flushed, but it’s not because of the wine. Ever since he made his expectations of me clear, I’ve noticed a dark look in his eyes. He licks his bottom lip every few seconds, a seductive promise in his eyes. Instead of admitting defeat, I take a gulp of wine.
“I like a girl who knows how to drink.” Nikolai chuckles.
But it sounds different from what I’m used to. His laugh is without real amusement, as though he’s trying to put on a show for me. It causes a shiver to run through me.
I blink a few times, trying to get my mind to catch up. Nikolai leans back, studying me. My lips draw into a straight line.
“Why are you staring at me like that, big guy?” I ask him, curious at the attention.
“You’re captivating when you drink,” he answers. “It’s hot.”
“Shut up,” I argue, an unintended giggle falling from my lips. “That’s just embarrassing.”
“It shouldn’t be,” he challenges.
