Bab 224: Anfisa

Ethan 

"I'm Igor," the dark haired man drifted his attention to Demyan who was neatly tucked into my side. "And who may this beautiful woman be?"

My blood turned to ice as Demyan's eyes enlarged but I figured the cocktails he had over dinner had highly influenced his decisions, because instead of telling Igor he was a man, he extended his hand out as a sly smirk coated his lips, "Anfisa, I'm Anfisa." 

I almost fainted as Demyan's deeper British accent was changed to that of a lighter and more sensual Russian woman. He was a master actor so I was not surprised at his skill but it did not mean I approved of him lying to a business associate. Actually it was Igor's fault for thinking Demyan was a woman, but with the wig, short skirt and the fur coat that hid his strong shoulders and obviously flat chest I would have made the same mistake.