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I listened to a story Filip seemed determine to whisper to me; Sevastyan clenched a fist beside his plate He could assure me that there was no us all he wanted to, but

Actions speak louder than words, Siberian And his focus on ht yet another dish, Kovalev announced, "In honor of Natalie’s horinned at hi to sound crazy tipsy

Then I felt Sevastyan’s dark gaze onhis eyes, I downed another shot

Kovalev turned to Sevastyan "You’re not eating, Aleksei?"

He straightened "Perhaps I’e"

With his quiet intensity, Sevastyan said, "I hold my own"

In a merry tone, Kovalev said, "There now, lads" He turned to ets Aleksei was a bare-knuckle prizefighter for many years"

I raised uessed he was a fighter That would explain the scars on his fingers, his broken nose I recalled the hter, that ht of all the men who’d struck that noble face of his, I wanted to touch hiine hi pain, when another course appeared

Dessert There were baked apples, fruit pastels--a kind of Russian Turkish delight--and sirniki, a cheese pancake with a side of honey for dipping As soon as ue, I rolled hter grew boisterous It was bad etiquette not to finish an opened bottle of vodka, so everyone politely pounded shot after shot--well, everyone except for Sevastyan After the toasts, his glass went untouched

Paxán recounted hilarious tales of his atte? The boat was now an artificial reef Breeding horses? He’d find that wily escaped stallion one of these days

I laughed until ht he would have white tigers and a bear--and a diauy nahed at oddaned a quick curtsy I saw that even Sevastyan’s custo like fascination, as if I were a creature he’d never seen in the wild before

Every tih his icy reserve again, he’d show hints of the man beneath the enforcer façade

I wished I could freeze tiht--but before I knew it, a grandfather clock struck ht