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“Good morning, Konstantin Yurevich,” Buric chooses to respond in English for Emily’s benefit. “I am honored that you and your lovely fiancée have chosen to grace me with your patronage.”
“Of course, Buric,” I reply. “Your reputation precedes you, and I want nothing but the best for my Emily.”
“Thank you, Konstantin Yurevich.” Buric presses his hand to his chest and bows deeply. “I will endeavor to provide your bride to be with a dress that will far outshine all of my previous work.”
With that, he claps his hands, and four women enter into the room. “Fetch the first options for the future Mrs. Siderov.”
When the group is out of earshot, I bend close to Emily. “Don’t try and have a repeat of yesterday.”
Smiling at me, she smooths her hair over her shoulders, twisting the ends. “Give me some credit—I’m more original than that.”
I watch her warily as she sways over to the racks of dresses the girls have rolled out. Each one is more elaborate than the rest. Pearls and gemstones are sewn into the gossamer material in impeccable lines. Not a single stitch is misplaced.
Buric is right. These are certain to outshine his previous work.
Emily runs her hands over the bodice of the closest dress, gasping when she touches the rows of diamonds. “It’s incredible.”
A breath of relief falls from my nose. So far, she’s chosen to behave. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Like it? I love it!” Running her hand over another dress, she lets out a dramatic sigh and turns to me, a devious look glinting in her eyes. “Kostya.”
There it is again.The ease with which she uses my diminutive, as if she’s known me and my secrets all of my life. I should rebuke her for this insolence, but I don’t. From anyone else, it would’ve been a measure of disrespect.
But from her?
It’s intoxicating.
Buric hooks his thumbs in his belt loops. “I’m happy to show you more options, Emily Samovna.”
Emily sighs dreamily, and turns her head, eyes widening as more dresses are brought out. “Oh my gosh!” She scoops the heavy hem of a different dress into her arms. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as beautiful as this!”
Relaxing against the wall, I cross my arms with a pleased smile. The unease at her initial overdramatic reaction cautiously gives way to thepossibility that this isgenuine.
A thoughtful look appears on her face and her brows furrow slightly. “Although.” Looking back and forth between the dresses, she continues to stroke their material lovingly. The motion of her fingers makes my pants strain again, and I feel my cock stirring to life at the thought of those fingers wrapped aroundme.“I can’t choose.”
“Take your time,” I say.
“I have a request.” She lights up and spins around toward Buric. “But I hope I’m not asking too much.”
“Nothing is too much for you,” he assures her. “My job is to please you and Konstantin Yurevich.”
“In that case.” Emily claps her hands together and presses them to her lips, as if she’s in deep contemplation. “Can you combine the two?”
The seamstresses around us share a nervous look between them, and Buric’s face falls. His hands start worrying over his measuring tape. “That … would be a challenge. And expensive.” He glances at me. Emily does the same, quietly waiting for my agreement.
There’s that devious glint again.
I don’t like where this is heading.But curiosity goads me on.
“She’s the bride,” I say calmly. “What she wants is what she’ll get. Price is no objection.”
“Very well, then.” Buric inclines his head, and then snaps his fingers at the seamstresses, barking out instructions in Croatian.
Immediately, they carry the dresses to a long table, setting up their machines and tools to begin picking the stitches apart. Emily watches with her hands behind her back. She rocks on her heels, leaning close for a better look.
I stand behind her, and place a heavy hand on her shoulders. She turns her head to me in response, the scent of honeysuckle and brown sugar wafting towards me as she smiles gently, and I swallow back my own desires for her.
For a second there, I can believe that her smile isreal.
