“Your wife left you, yes?” Jesus, he was blunt. “We separated.” Ilya smirked. “Okay. But she divorced you?” “It was mutual.” “Yes. And now you hang out here?” Eric almost never blushed, but he came dangerously close just then. “To keep Scott company, like I said.” Ilya nodded in the direction of Kyle, who was now behind the bar. “Lots to look at.” Eric clenched his jaw. How the fuck was Rozanov so perceptive?
