“I’m not really a shot kind of girl,” she tried to reason. “Really. I like fruity girly drinks. I’m a wimp.”
“Next time, we get you blue drink with umbrella,” he teased, easing into her space. “This time, you do as Russians do.”
Her skin tingled and flushed as he closed the gap between them, her breath stilling in her throat. He smelled so good, all spice and clean musk. With trembling fingers, she picked up the glass, reluctantly lifting it into the air.
“Aah!” he praised, tapping the bottom of his glass against her own as he graced her with another smile. “To your health, solnyshko!”
“Nostrovia.”
He grinned broadly, throwing back the shot and slamming the empty glass down on the bar top.
Elena followed his lead, making a noise of displeasure when the liquid burned her throat. It was a good distraction from the other things she was feeling. She wrinkled her nose, shaking her head as she flipped her glass over and slammed it down.
“Oh god,” she coughed, clutching her chest. “I need some cranberry juice with my vodka, thanks.”
Evgeni chuckled, pointing at the bartender, then the empty glasses. He put up two fingers. The bartender nodded.
“First one always burns.”
“Now you’re going to have to get your friend another drink.”
“No worries.”
The bartender appeared with two more shots of vodka, and when he set it in front of her, she shook her head and put her hand out. “I’m good, really.”
Evgeni made a noise in the back of his throat, a guttural grunt that might have signaled annoyance if he hadn’t still been smirking at her with that mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Okay, okay, Elena wins.” He took the glasses between his fingers, closing that final inch of space between them and dipping his head near hers to murmur in her ear. “For now. But I see you soon, solnyshko.”
He slid away from the bar, sparing her a backwards glance and a knowing grin in his wake.
Heart racing, Elena hardly managed to wait until he vanished into the crowd before she made a break for the door. She’d had enough excitement for the night. Even out in the cold and snow-dusted street, she was fanning herself.
Chapter Four
Evgeni watched from across the room as the girl wiped down the bar top, gathering empty glasses and discarded ashtrays as she went. Her first day had been rough so far, if the state of her hair and the expression on her face were any indication.
She’d twisted the waist-length, silver-blonde waves he’d found himself admiring on their first meeting into a messy updo. It was only going to get messier as the night went on. Fly-away hairs already framed her sweet, heart-shaped face, and her flushed cheeks and big blue eyes were drawing the attention of every red-blooded man who walked through the door.
Her eyes drew them in, but her body kept their attention. She was the perfect little American girl, his solnyshko.
His.
A smirk quirked the corner of his mouth as she glanced his direction for the fifth time in as many minutes. He didn’t always acknowledge her. It wouldn’t do any good for her to know just how closely he was watching. This time, he winked.
She smiled, bit her lip, and looked away.
Evgeni took a drag from his cigarette, amused by the game. She was too fucking cute for her own good.
“Evgeni, man! Stop looking at that bitch. Pay attention!”
He stiffened, resisting the urge to snarl at his comrade. Blanketing the table in a cloud of smoke as he exhaled, he turned attention to the man at his side. “We went over this before, Victor. Why you need to again? Over and over, you say the same thing. I got it. We got it.”
“It is a big job, lot of money,” the older man at his side grumbled. “Don’t want any fuck-ups. You pricks, always drinking and whoring. Get your head in the game.”
Evgeni shrugged a shoulder, glancing across the table at Oleg. The burly man tugged his knit cap farther down over his ears, as if it would block out Victor’s voice. He looked just as annoyed as Evgeni felt.
“Is fine, Victor. We done it plenty times before. We had a long day, man. Let us relax,” Oleg complained. “Evgeni, get us some drinks? Before his head explodes.”
Evgeni shoved back from the table, cigarette hanging from his lip as he got to his feet “Yeah, yeah.” He pinched both of Victor’s shoulders massage style as he slipped past him, jostling the man good-naturedly. “Loosen up, brother. You gonna give yourself a coronary.”
Victor cursed him as he walked away.
Evgeni ambled toward the bar, taking his time. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye a few times as he approached, judging the distance. Now it was her turn to pretend she didn’t see him. She kept washing glasses in the sink beneath the bar top, turning them upside down in the trough along the back of the counter to dry.
Farther down the bar, Kirill was dutifully ignoring his unwanted helper.
Evgeni took a stool between them, curious to see if she’d continue acting like she couldn’t see him. He drummed his fingers on the worn enamel surface, watching them both.
Once, twice, she glanced toward Kirill, as if trying to gauge whether he was going to wait on Evgeni. But the older man was arguing with a regular about what station the TV behind the bar should be on and hadn’t noticed him yet.
Finally she seemed to realize she couldn’t ignore him any longer. Wiping her hands on her apron, she glanced up at him and smiled an obligatory customer service smile, not the one he wanted.
“Hello!” she greeted him in clumsy Russian, propping a hand on her hip. “What can I get for you?”
She was trying to play it cool. Evgeni liked that. He liked the challenge.
“Hey, Elena!” he greeted her with enough exuberance to make her blush, satisfied by the pink tint of her cheeks. To put her at ease, he spoke next in English. “How is first day? Good, da?”
“Busy, but good,” she agreed, unable to keep from smiling at him. It was genuine this time, half-embarrassment, half-pleasure—something she couldn’t help. It made up for the fake one she’d given him moments before.
“Kirill treat you good?”
She cast a sidelong glance at the man in question, a frown teasing the corner of her mouth. “Yeah. I don’t think he likes sharing the bar, but he’s been really helpful.”
Evgeni folded his arms, leaning closer. “He give you problem, you tell me. I take care of it.”
She nodded quickly. “Sure. Thanks. So, what can I get you?”
“Bottle of Beluga, three glass.”
“A bottle?”
He smirked at her incredulous tone. “Da, bottle. Not just for me.” He glanced over his shoulder, gesturing across the room where Victor and Oleg sat waiting. “Friends too.”
“Coming right up.”
She turned away, bending to check the fridge below the counter. “Oh, I only have half a bottle cold. Is that okay?”
“Don’t matter, get one from shelf.”
She nodded, standing to search the upper shelves behind her where the unopened bottles were stored.
“In middle, second shelf.”
She gave him a thumbs up without looking back, leaning over the rear counter and pushing up on her tiptoes to reach for the bottle. Her fingers barely touched the bottom, she was so petite.