Page 79 of Cruel Kiss

"Never, Marisha. Just busy."

"So I hear." Her eyes cut to me and thenthroughme. "And this is what's been keeping you so busy, hm?"

"This is my wife," he confirms. "Calista, this is Marisha. Semyon's cousin."

I put out my hand. "It's lovely to meet you."

She takes it. "You're smaller than the photographs suggested."

That's a test if I've ever heard one. She's fishing to see how I'll react. I get the feeling that Ronan would've told me if there werepictures of me floating around, whether good or bad—but then again, maybe not. I could see him deciding to protect my peace of mind.

Either way, the only route available to me is the obvious one: Play it cool.

"Photographs never get me right," I reassure her. "I'm better in person. Or so I'm told."

She chuckles, which lets me breathe a sigh of relief. Test passed, I hope. Curtsying elegantly, she drifts off toward a knot of men by the bar, and Ronan's thumb draws a slow line against my spine, the barest, silentgood job.

I almost tell him not to do that. I think I just like it too much. Not only the praise—though yes, I'm a filthy, greedy praise-whore; sue me—but also the fact that he stays there to balance me if I ever need to reach out for him. That's one of his most lovable attributes, I decide. He's always, always there for me. But he doesn't force himself on me. He lets me decide when I do and don't need him.

Maybe that's why I tortured him a little bit when he invited me here in the first place.

Iwantedto come, because reaching for him and reminding myself he's still there is a pleasure I'll never get tired of. Whether under cover of night or at breakfast time, I like knowing I can do it whenever I want.

Plus, there's the added perk of seeing him in his element. The competence porn of it. Ronan is at home in every room he enters, but this one especially. The aura of respect that surrounds him is like a cloud of cologne, and I keep taking sneaky little inhales.

"Alright," I mumble out of the side of my mouth. "Give me the scouting report. Who do I need to be afraid of?"

"As long as you're with me? None of them."

"You better not go taking any sudden bathroom breaks then," I joke.

He laughs. "Like I said: I'm here to catch you, darling." He winks, then adds, "Besides, I'm more interested inyourtake on these people."

I press a hand to my chest. "Me? What would I know? This is your world, not mine."

"But you've got sharp eyes and they're not as jaded as mine." He pokes me in the side playfully. "Go ahead then. Tell me what you think."

We do a slow lap. He steers me deeper into the room, past columns and through little thickets of people enjoying the cocktail hour. I rattle off observations as they occur to me.

"Marisha likes me, I think. Those men by the bar think I'm either your weakness or your best decision, they can't tell which. That pretty woman by the window has been watching you the whole time we've been talking."

Ronan doesn't look. "Which one?"

"Blue dress. Pearls. Big hair, full of secrets."

"That's Vera. Semyon's sister. She watches everyone. Don't take it personally."

"She's not watching everyone. She's watching you."

He's quiet a second. "Huh. Interesting." He steers me around a waiter carrying a tray of little pastries. "Anything else?"

I keep going. "The tall guy with the scar. He doesn't like you."

"That's probably because it's my fault he got the scar in the first place."

"No, I mean it. He's smiling but it's not real. It doesn't get to his eyes."

Ronan's hand goes still on my back for just a second, then keeps moving.