Page 90 of Twisted Prince
I nod.
He gets out of the car, and I follow suit, heading to the back door to collect Gabby. In the background, I hear Gleb greet the two men standing in front of the Veles house. Whatever he says is in Russian, so I can’t understand it, but the smooth richness of his voice flowing over the melodic words sends a shiver down my spine.
Gabby moans, her eyes fluttering as I lift her from her car seat. “Where we?” she asks, looking around in confusion as I set her on my hip.
“New York, keiki. This is the new city we’re going to live in.”
Gabby rubs her eyes sleepily, and I kiss her temple as she leans in to rest her head on my shoulder. “Is Kieri here?”
“No, baby. She stayed in Boston. But we’ll call and talk to her on the phone tonight. Okay?”
Gabby nods.
“In the meantime, we're going to a friend’s house. Pyotr and Silvia.”
I fall into stride with Gleb after he closes the back door for me, and we climb the front steps. Gabby peeks shyly out from beneath my hair at the two men who open the door for us without question.
As soon as we step inside the front entrance, Pyotr and Silvia are there to greet us. Silvia has a little boy on her hip that looks to be right around Gabby’s age.
“Mel,” she greets, stepping forward to wrap me in a warm one-armed hug. “And look who you brought with you.” Silvia beams at Gabby, who gives a tentative smile I can just catch from the corner of my eye.
“Can you say hi, Gabby? This is my good friend Silvia.”
“Hi,” Gabby complies shyly.
“And who’s this fella?” I turn my eyes to the little boy who has dark curls and keen gray eyes, just like his dad.
“This is Nicolai,” Silvia says, bouncing him gently.
“Maybe you and Nicolai can become friends. What do you think, keiki?” I murmur in Gabby’s ear. She nods but buries herself further beneath my hair.
My eyes land on Pyotr next, who’s smiling with soft amusement.
“It’s nice to have you home, Mel,” he says, his deep voice carrying across the space between us, though he doesn’t make a move to hug me. He never has—probably because I made it perfectly clear the first time I met him that I didn’t like men touching me. Still, welcoming me home is about as close to a warm embrace as one could give with words.
“It’s so nice to see you both,” I say genuinely. “Where’s Isla?”
“At a friend’s birthday party,” Silvia says, her smile spreading. “She’ll be sad she missed you.”
I nod. “We’ll have to come back and see her, right, Gabby?”
Again, Gabby nods as she plays with my hair.
“Well, come in. Sit down. I’ll have some drinks and food prepared. You must be starving,” Pyotr says, gesturing to their finely decorated sitting room.
Gleb follows me in, as does Silvia with Nicolai. Pyotr joins us a moment later, taking the couch by his wife since I took the overstuffed chair, and Gleb remains standing by the fireplace. He looks like a cat settling into a crouch—ready to pounce at a moment’s notice but perfectly at ease in the meantime.
“Gleb said you had quite the trip down from Boston,” Pyotr says, draping his arm behind Silvia’s shoulders. “How’s your head?”
“I’m fine. Really. Just a few scrapes and bumps.”
“And five stitches,” Gleb adds flatly.
I cast a glance at him from the corner of my eye. He gives a one-shoulder shrug in response.
“Well, we’re glad you felt like stopping by. What have you been up to since we saw you last?” Silvia asks.
Heat floods my cheeks at her question. I know she wouldn’t mean it this way, but it brings home the point that I left without telling anybody. And after all Pyotr and Silvia did for me, that probably wasn’t the nicest show of appreciation and friendship.
