She felt completely wrung out without even knowing why. Dimitri had said that he loved her. Shouldn’t she be over the moon about that?She sipped rich black coffee from her mug and had the odd thought that it was really too bad there wasn’t a Russian café that served the rich black coffee she’d grown up drinking with her mother. Sometimes they’d put vodka in it. Other times they had eaten copious amounts of blini with their coffee, adding cream and sugar until the whole thing had been a concoction so sweet that it promised an immediate toothache.Toni fingered the letter sitting on the table before her. It was the same one that Pyotr had pulled from her father’s safe. She hadn’t read it yet. She’d been too busy. Or maybe she had been too much of a coward to read what it said. Pyotr had insisted that the letter would have saved her so much trouble and worry. What did he mean? What would she discover? Perhaps until this moment she had been praying that she would never actually have to find out.
