~ phoenix ~
I dared to glance at Ilya from out of the corner of my eye.
Unable to bear the silence any longer, I decided to break it.
"Lovely day isn't it?" I observed innocently, determined to forget the incident.
His eyes flicked to mine fleetingly. "Hmm," he hummed.
I frowned, at his half-hearted response.
"I can't wait to show Rina my new coat," I babbled on, "Damn, I should have got one for her!"
"Hmm."
"Um, Ilya?"
He glanced at me again.
I smiled broadly. "Do you like your new watch?"
I watched him regard the silver watch for a moment, waiting for a reply.
Silence. Then-
"Hmmmmm."
With a defeated sigh, I flopped against the headrest, closing my eyes again. Why did I even try?
"Are you hungry?"
My eyes snapped open. I nodded, enthusiastically. Come to think about it, I was starving. Then, I realised he had his eyes on the road - not on me. "Yes!"
"Good," was the cryptic response.
So he was taking me out to lunch? I closed my eyes once more, this time smiling blissfully. I wasn't complaining.
I felt the car slow until we stopped moving completely. When I looked around, we were parked in front of a towering stone building. It had an ancient air about it: intricate stonework and golden railings. My gaze was to the elegant fountain at the entrance and I could've sworn that I spotted tiny fish in the water. It was a breathtaking sight.
I was so distracted by the view that I hadn't noticed Ilya leave the car. I spotted his figure approaching but before he could open the door, I leapt out first. Nearly losing my footing, my hand jumped to the car to steady me. I spied a set of eyes watching me and raised my chin unashamedly at the amused doorman. I was my own independent woman.
"Добрый вечер сэр." He greeted Ilya with kind eyes, and said a polite "Мэм," when I walked by. [Good evening, sir. Ma'am]
My face split with happiness when the doorman allowed a cheeky grin for me.
I smiled warmly at his aged face. "I'm Phoenix," I said, brightly, shooting my hand out for him to shake.
He looked surprised to see my sudden gesture, but welcomed it anyway. The warm, wrinkled hand enclosed around mine. "Я Maxim," he replied, joyfully. [I am Maxim]
I didn't understand completely. Nonetheless, I tried to repeat what I heard. "Maxim?"
"Да!" [Da, Yes]
If possible, my smile widened triumphantly. I was learning!
Thoughtfully, the old man gestured towards Ilya, who stood watching our exchange intently. I figured he was trying to tell me that he was waiting so with a final smile, I strode in the direction of the brooding male.
"This way," Ilya said, leading me towards an enclosed area.
Our seats were concealed by heavy, velvet curtains. A stunning chandelier lit the cozy area and rose petals were scattered across the table.
Feeling warm, I shrugged off my lilac cardigan and settled into the cushioned chair. Ilya handed me a menu.
"I, um," I mumbled in perplexity as I tried to get an idea of the Russian words. Then, after a quick game of eenie minie moe, my finger descended on 'Квас'.
Ilya looked at me, eyes shining with amusement. "That it a beverage, Phoenix."
"Is it alcoholic?"
"Нет." [No]
"Oh."
Ilya chuckled at my disappointment. I had to latch onto the edge of my seat to stop myself from doing a double take. The deep rumble was husky, deep... sexy.
I bit my lip anxiously. Why did just his laugh have such an effect on me?
"Should I help?" he offered, with a half-smile.
"Please," I begged, handing him the menu back.
To my surprise, he didn't even look at it. I figured he came here often.
He clicked his tongue and like magic, a waiter appeared. "Два бефстроганова," he ordered.
I listened intently before trying the words on my own lips. Dva befstroganova.
"So," I began, "I wanted to ask you something, Ilya."
He held my gaze, gesturing for me to go on.
'Well, um.... I want a job."
Ilya furrowed his brows. "A job?" he repeated sceptically.
"Yes!" I told him, expectantly.
"Okay," he agreed.
I grinned-
"Your job is to listen to me."
Just when I thought playing this charade with him would be easy. "Ilya!" I scolded, "I'm being serious!"
"I don't joke either, Phoenix," he said in a tone that proved his point.
I rolled my eyes. "Well, I'm going to find a job whether you like it or not. I'm not gonna depend on any man."
"Well, good luck on that. I don't make my women work."
What? "Women," I repeated slowly. "Your women? How many women to be exact, Ilya?"
The bastard looked unphased. "That is not your business."
Fury boiled in my veins but I refused to show it. Instead, I had a better plan. "Then, I guess my exes are none of your business. And those hot Italian men I hooked up with in Milan before you-"
A loud growl tore through the room. My wrist was snatched forward and before I knew it, I was pressed against his front. A breath separated his lips from mine.
"How many?" he snarled, ferociously.
I glared back with equal rage. "Well, there was Hunter, Alex, and how could I forget-"
"Do not test me, Phoenix," he threatened lowly.
Due to our proximity, I couldn't ignored the bright silver flecks in his irises. And the way he uttered my name...
"You asked," I shot back, rebelliously.
"Phoenix!"
"FineIonlydatedMikeyinsophomoreyearbuthecheatedsowebrokeup," I mumbled, picking at invisible threads on his chest.
Ilya's hands caught mine, forcing them to be still. "Clearly, Phoenix," he demanded.
With a frustrated roll of my eyes, I took a deep breath before repeating, "I only dated Mikey in sophomore year but he cheated so we broke up."
I didn't look to see his reaction. I couldn't bear it if there was laughter in his eyes. Though the short-lived relationship wasn't painful - mostly a stinging betrayal - I didn't want Ilya to laugh at me.
"He cheated on you?" he repeated, slowly as if he couldn't understand.
Was the bastard rubbing it in? "Yes," I muttered, my cheeks stained with a dark blush.
All of a sudden, he forced my chin up so our gazes were even. "And I'm guessing there were no men in Italy?"
Why was his voice suddenly so soft? I didn't want his pity!
I shot daggers at him. "Well, you didn't let that happen, did you? I was getting there-"
The air was knocked out of me when I was violently attacked with his hungry lips. Damn, the food was coming.
I succumbed for a second, before remembering where we were.
"Ilya!" I whined, trying to separate our faces.
"You are mine. How many times do I have to tell you? There will be no other men!" Ilya said roughly, forcing me to look at him.
"I am not yours! What did I say, Ilya? I am not a posses-"
Again, he slammed his lips to mine. Our tongues collided in a battle for dominance. This time, I did not shy away, asserting my own authority. I tugged roughly at his hair, eliciting a deep groan from his throat. In response, I felt his calloused fingers squeeze my ass. In the heated kiss, I bristled.
"Eeek!"
I jumped away from him like he was fire when I heard the surprised squeak. With beet-red cheeks and tainted lips, I refused to look at either of them.
I heard the rushed apology of the poor waiter, as she quickly delivered our meals.
The rest of lunch was quiet and tense.
Why couldn't we have a simple conversation without attacking each other?
This man would be the literal death of me.
𝑥𝑜
𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖆𝖛𝖎