He swallowed hard, wishing like hell he had a glass of Stoli to ease his parched throat instead of watered-down tea or coffee. “As a matter of fact, I invited her to dinner on Sunday.” He met Sergei’s stare head-on. “It was presumptuous of me to do so without asking you first. If you’d rather, I can rescind the invitation.”

“No!” Evette spun to Sergei and planted an urgent hand on his shoulder. “You don’t want him to take it back, do you, babe?” She faced Roman and Kir. “We want to meet her.”

While Sergei’s stare never once wavered from Kir’s face, his features did soften, just a hint of the deep amusement he often wore in Evette or Emerson’s presence lifting to the surface. Finally, he took his napkin from his lap and set it on the table beside his plate. “Well, moy brat, it appears we want very much to meet her.” He stood, leaned over and gave his bride a kiss, then stepped away from the table. “I would, however, like to hear more about this reporter. Why don’t you join me on the patio for a cigar, and you can tell me what you know.”

Evette grinned huge, the apples of her cheeks practically on fire with excitement.

Emerson snickered. “Sounds like you’re gonna get a lot of questions.”

It did sound that way, and with how the initial introduction had gone down, Kir wasn’t altogether sure they were going to be the type of questions he was up for answering.

“Good luck, my brother,” Roman said in Russian. He stood, slid his chair under the table and grabbed his plate. Before he headed to the kitchen, he added, “For what it’s worth. I think this one’s worth it.”

Kir stood as well and reached for his plate.

Evette waved him off. “I’ll get it. You go talk to the man.”

Funny. He’d had countless conversations with Sergei over the years and not one of them had left him feeling like a school boy waiting outside the principal’s office.

But this one did.

He nodded to Evette and Emerson and strode toward the back door and the patio overlooking the pool and gardens beyond.

Evette’s voice halted him just before he stepped outside. “Hey, Kir.” Where her expression had been full of glee and orneriness before, now soft compassion and understanding swam behind her warm hazel eyes. “It’s okay, you know. To want someone, I mean. Sergei, of all people, will understand that. You just need to tell him the truth.”

Such a good woman. Honest. Kind and loving. Full of fire and strength that had greatly augmented Sergei’s leadership and vision. Kir couldn’t even fathom what it would be like to have such support. His brothers, yes. They were always there. But to have the gentle, unwavering solace of a woman like Evette was beyond his comprehension. “My pakhan will always have the truth from me.”

Her smile deepened. “Well then...maybe you could let yourself in on it while you’re at it.”