The Bride Who Wouldn't Read Free Page B

you.”
    “A drink then…” Isaak suggested.
    “I said no thank you!” He caught her wrist and she gave in then for this six-foot-two Russian was not going to be gotten rid of so easily and so she stood and faced him.
    “I have a solution,” he said.
    “Really!”
    “As you said, business should not be discussed on the street, we go to my club.”
    “Club!” Kate’s lips curled in distaste. “On the eve of your uncle’s funeral?”
    He said nothing just nodded to his car where the driver was holding open the door and Kate knew there was no getting out of it.
    As they were driven past Hyde Park and to Mayfair, Kate could have kicked herself, especially when they pulled up outside a very esteemed private club. The car was bathed in gold by a street lamp and she actually offered an apology.
    “When you said club, I thought you meant a night club.”
    His eyes skimmed over her attire, the thick stockings and cardigan and for the first time since meeting her, he actually smiled at the thought of her in a nightclub, though he made no comment.
    Kate had never seen a smile change someone’s features so. His stern mouth softened and there was a small fan of lines around his eyes like rays of the sun coming out and Kate was suddenly nervous but for different reasons for she had never truly been attracted to a man.
    “Come,” Isaak said. “I need to eat.”
    As he signed her in, a woman at the desk offered her condolences to Isaak.
    “Thank you.”
    They walked through the elegant building and another gentleman came over and shook Isaak’s hand.
    “He will be terribly missed.” The man turned and raised a glass and Kate looked over and there, on the wall behind them, was a portrait of Ivor. Seeing his kind face smiling down on them made Kate let out a little cry of surprise.
    “Excuse us,” Isaak said to his friend and guided Kate to a table.
    “We are both members here,” Isaak explained. “Or he was,” Isaak corrected. “I am struggling with my tenses. Usually my English is excellent but…”
    “It’s fine,” Kate said, “I think we all struggle with that type of thing when someone we care for dies.”
    Isaak nodded to one of the waiting staff to come over.
    “I don’t want to have dinner,” Kate said because she wanted this over with quickly.
    “You’re sure?” Isaak checked.
    “Very.”
    “I don’t need the menu then.” He nodded to the waitress. “I’ll have the Beef Wellington, please.” He looked to Kate. “What would you like to drink?”
    Oh God, she was seriously hungry but no, she was not going to share a meal with him, Kate decided, and how rude of him to sit and eat in front of her! She would have one drink and then go. “A brandy,” Kate said, hoping it might douse the butterflies in her stomach.
    “I used to come here with my uncle,” Isaak explained. “When I first came from Russia I discovered how much I liked English women and so I kept missing my English classes. I thought Ivor didn’t know but he brought me here and insisted I order—I remember sweating as I read the menu…” Isaak watched as her generous mouth started to stretch into a smile and it was enough of a reward for him to continue. “To my left I heard someone say to his partner, in a very posh voice, that the Beef Wellington was marvellous here and so I ordered it.” He started to laugh a little as he recalled it. “Now, every time we come, that is what I have.”
    “Did he know you were faking it?”
    “Of course,” Isaak said as their drinks were delivered—a large glass of red wine for Isaak and a brandy that Kate took one look at and knew, if she finished it, that any butterflies would be more than doused, they’d be knocked unconscious.
    “They’re very generous serves,” Kate commented taking a sip.
    “Enjoy,” Isaak said. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat, I hear the Beef Wellington is marvellous .” He mimicked a posh English accent again and she smiled as she shook her