Ivan is also slimmer built with leaner muscle, while Mikhail has muscles on muscles. The brothers couldn’t be more different.
“Was it too stuffy inside? The women can be a little overbearing in their chatter.” His smile widens.
“They were okay. They were talking about traveling. Since I haven’t travelled much, it was interesting to hear.”
He observes my face and narrows his eyes for a fraction before looking me up and down.
It’s weird to be so analytical right in front of someone’s face.
“Is something wrong?” I ask when he continues to assess me.
“I don’t think so. It’s just that you look familiar, but that wouldn’t make sense.”
My mouth goes dry, and I find it hard to swallow past the lump in my throat.
How awful it would be to come this far only for this man to recognize me. But how would he recognize me?
Raul kept me away from his business associates, and if I saw any of them, they never saw me.
I never saw Ivan at any point. Never.
With that reasoning, I shake my head and gather my strength, but I still search my mind and try to figure out why he’d think I look familiar.
“I definitely don’t think you’ve met me before,” I tell him. I don’t know where I find the courage to speak with such confidence, but I do. “My… father kept me away from his associates.”
“Of course,” he agrees, dipping his head. “Kept you on a leash, so to speak. I guess there was just something in you I recognized, but I must be mistaken.”
The instant he says that, something hits me.
An idea strikes, and I think of where the threat I was worried about might come from.
My mother.
There’s a chance he could have met my mother. Both my parents had dealings with Raul’s associates. I’m not sure in what ways she would have known him, but it seems like it’s possible they met.
The first thing anyone who meets me who’s met her says is how much I look like her.
My only differences are my hair and eyes. Those are my main Mexican features, but when you look at me, you can find the underlying Caucasian features she inherited from her Irish roots.
Jesus, what do I do if he links me to her?
He straightens and seems to shrug off the idea, but I can already tell he’s moved on to something else in his mind.
“How is Mikhail treating you?” He steps a little closer and rests his hands on the stone rail.
“Fine. He treats me fine.”
That smile returns with a wicked glint lurking in his eyes. “Enjoy it while it lasts.” He slants closer to me, and a rake of shivers courses down my body. “I’m sure that will change after the wedding.”
I rivet my gaze to his, realizing I’m back at that place again with that question hanging over my head. What’s going to happen to me after the wedding?
He seems to have the answer I seek.
“In what ways will things change?” I ask in a small voice.
“Let’s not kid ourselves here. Do you seriously believe my all-powerful, conquering villain of a brother is going to tie himself down to the daughter of the man who killed his mother and our sister?”
I note the way he sayshis motherandour sister. I realize then they must not have the same mother. That’s why they look so different.
