Two days later, Luka arrived. He looked like a dancer and had the same lean build as Ash, with a thick thatch of white blond hair sticking out from under a wool hat, his eyes a startling dark blue. He was very attractive, but he knew it. I could tell from the confidence in the way he held himself and the assessing look he gave me that women usually swooned at the sight of him.
“Luka, this is my wife Laney,” Ash said proudly.
Luka took my hand, then pulled it to his lips and kissed the back.
“Enchanted, madame,” he said smoothly, his accent stronger than Ash’s.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said, carefully extracting my hand.
Luka gave me a wide grin, then slung his arm around Ash’s shoulder and spoke rapidly in Slovenian, making Ash laugh.
But he wasted no time, barely letting Luka put his suitcase down before they were making plans. I reminded Ash that we’d arranged to meet Yveta and Gary for dinner in a small diner that I knew. Yveta was very self-conscious about going out in public, so she preferred quiet places.
I decided to take the wheelchair because although I felt reasonably well, I tired quickly. But the look on Luka’ face as his eyes shuttled between me and Old Ironside . . . and he said something in Slovenian.
Ash frowned, replying quickly. Then he looked at me, smiled and shrugged.
“I forgot to tell him.”
He needed to be kissed for that, because my man, my husband, always saw me as a woman first, never as a problem to be taken care of.
When the kiss became a little more heated than was appropriate in company, Luka cleared his throat, an amused expression on his face, and he spoke in heavily accented English.
“Maybe I should go for dinner by myself, or is one minute still long enough for you, Alja??”
Ash cuffed him lightly around the ear and muttered something that sounded very rude.
Luka grinned. “My friend is in love—I never thought I’d see it happen.”
Ash grinned and winked at me, tightening his arm around my waist.
I loved the way he looked at me. I’d never get tired of that.
Then I remembered that Luka might not know about Yveta. Ash might have forgotten to tell him that, too.
“Uh, Luka, when you see Yveta, don’t stare at her scar, okay?”
He gave me a serious look as Ash nodded his agreement. But when Yveta and Gary walked into the diner, Luka did stare. Ash kicked him under the table.
He said something in Russian to Yveta and she flushed but wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“What did he say?” I hissed at Ash.
Ash gave me a small smile. “I think he told her she’s beautiful.”
“I did,” Luka nodded. “I told her that I stare at all beautiful women.”
Gary was still standing, hovering protectively next to Yveta. But hearing Luka’s words, he rolled his eyes and sat down heavily.
“Another Slovenian hunk with more charm than is healthy—they must breed them specially. I think I’ll plan a vacation there.”
Luka gave him a flirtatious look and leaned in closer, resting his hand on Gary’s thigh.
“I’m already on vacation.”
I threw a questioning look at Ash while Gary fanned himself.
Ash shrugged. “Luka likes men and women.”
“It’s true!” Luka smiled, then said something that made Ash laugh.
Three voices at once yelled out, “What did he say?”
Ash held up his hands and shook his head.
“Excuse me,” Luka said slyly, “my English is not always good. I said that I am equal opportunities in fucking.”
I choked on a cough and Gary burst out laughing. Yveta looked as though she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but instead she gave him a shy smile.
Luka’s grin softened as he smiled back.
I relaxed in my seat and took a long sip of water. Things were going to get even more interesting—and by ‘interesting’ I meant complicated.
But what the hell. We’d survived worse, so bring it on.
The next day was auditions. Gary and Ash were running the show, but Yveta and Luka hovered in the background, making notes and whispering to each other.
Selma was there, too. I liked her and the way she got things done, but her personality was something of a freight train. In her enthusiasm, it was quite possible she’d run right over you.
“Are you liking being the producer?” she asked.
I gave her a quick look, knowing she didn’t make small talk.
I shrugged. “I’m learning.”
She gave me an appraising look.
“No offence, but this is a big job for someone who doesn’t know what the heck they’re doing.”
“True. But we can’t afford to pay anyone. We’re barely scraping by as it is.”
I didn’t tell her about the massive loan that was giving me nightmares.
“I have a proposition for you,” she said, leaning forward, her astonishing cleavage lending a playful tone to her serious and intense expression. “I’ll take on producer duties—no fee necessary. I’ll accept a percentage of the profits instead.”