Page 53 of The Bratva's Hostage Bride

I hesitate and then sip it. “Okay, it’s not terrible.”

“See.” He smiles. “Come on, if we’re late, Wynter will make you do more reps.”

“So we just going to do weight lifting today?” I ask.

“We’re focusing on building your strength, so you have power behind any moves you do,” he explains.

We walk out to the Range Rover and get in. He drives us through Vegas to what I can only describe as a hole-in-the-wall. We walk in, and the smell of sweat permeates everything.

“Hello, Hannah,” his cousin Wynter says. I remember him from dinner at Luka’s mother's house. “What are you doing here?”

“Building core strength,” I say, taking a swig of my protein shake.

Wynter looks at Luka curiously, and he shrugs, “She wants to learn to defend herself. I thought this would be a great place to start.”

Wynter stands up and looks down at me.

I hate being so short.

“You can warm up with Luka. We’ll start you on something light and work you up to something heavier, so don’t feel like we’re not challenging you. We’re just measuring your strength.”

I nod, “Okay.”

Luka takes me to one side and starts to show me how to warm up. In no time, Wynter has instructed me on how to lift weights properly without hurting myself. Then he has me down on the bench, and Luka stands behind me.

“You ready?”

We work our way through several exercises, and the weights get heavier until we reach a weight that suits me just fine for now.

“Luka, she’s learned more about weights in a day than you have your whole life,” Wynter teases from the one bench where Clyde is spotting him.

I smile up at Luka.

I’m sweaty and gross, and my clothes are soaked. I just want to get home now and shower.

Luka goes to the back and brings me back a bottle of water. “Here you go. You look hot.”

“Like temperature-wise? Because I feel hot,” I say breathlessly.

Luka wiggles his eyebrows. “Come on, let’s get home and showered.”

I feel sticky and gross from the workout. I welcome a shower right now.

Luka drives us back, and it’s all quiet. He doesn’t say anything so I turn the music up on the radio and bop my head along to the song.

Luka smiles as we pull up to the house. We race each other into the house and up the stairs, stopping outside my room. He takes my hand and pulls me gently along toward his room. “Come shower with me.”

“You just want to see me naked,” I claim.

“Of course I do, but I won’t do anything, I swear.” He grins, drops his kit bag, and peels off his shirt. He drops it to the floor. I look at his chiseled features and slowly pull my vest off, dropping it next to his shirt.

He smiles mischievously and takes my hand, pulling me into his bedroom. He pauses to kiss me, but I pull away.

“I’m sweaty and gross.” I giggle.

“I don’t care,” he murmurs.

I walk past him, push my pants down, and walk into the bathroom. Luka is close behind me, pushing down his own pants. He’s gone commando, and his physique is so defined that he looks like an ancient Greek sculpture.

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