Page 32 of Seduction (Wicked Vows)

“Of course. How much did you understand of what we discussed last night?”

His brows furrow. “Let’s just say I gathered that you were all scientists,” he begins. God, he looks so adorable when he gives me that look. It’s the only time I’d use the word adorable or cute about him.

I fill him in in layman’s terms as best I can. “So today could be any of those things. A simulation where we’re in the middle of a war-torn area with a soldier who has just been brought in with life-threatening injuries. A high-stakes threat where our mock environment’s been hit with a biological weapon. Or disaster response to a natural disaster and we have to allocate resources and set up triage areas. Advanced trauma support training. Our training involves everything from staying calm under intense pressure and trauma to learning how to do things like parachute, building shelter to survive, and mental resiliency.”

“Ahhh,” he says, nodding. “So that’s why you brush your teeth with your left hand.”

I’m not sure why it pleases me so much that he actually connected that or freaks me out that he misses nothing. “Right. Doing small things with a non-dominant hand will help you grow resilience. It’s similar to the whole ice bath thing.”

“Got it.” He shrugs. “Well, I can definitely help you with disaster response and trauma support if you need me to feign a few scenarios. Happy to fuck up that asshole American so you can bring him back to life.”

“I’m not sure that will be necessary, but thank you for being so helpful,” I say as we make it back to campus.

“Stay back when I check things out.”

This time, I don’t push back or argue. It would be stupid not to go along with him, and a moment later, he gives me the green light.

We get ready quickly, but we’re the last ones to arrive. I’m surprised when he actually comes inside with me.

“Irina said I could.”

“Oh, really?” Why is she being so amenable? Then a thought crossed my mind. “Markov,” I whisper. “Did you threaten her?”

His gaze grows thunderous. “No. Do I need to?”

My heart thumps and I shake my head. “No, please don’t.” I glance at the time. I can’t discuss this any more.

Jake smirks at my damp hair and wrinkled top that didn’t travel so well. I kind of rushed in the end, but I figured it would be fine since we’d be covered in a lab coat.

I suddenly hate the way he looks at me, that smug expression on his face, but I quickly forget him when Sophia comes up beside me. “I’m so thankful there’s another woman here,” she whispers. “We’ve made many advances in women in STEM, but you know.”

I do know. We still are very much in the minority, at least in some places.

“I’m a little jealous you’re here with your husband,” she says with a smile. “How did you two meet?”

Shit. I forgot what we decided on. I stare at her and wildly try to come up with a way to change the subject. We said we wouldn’t say it was school, but that we met. . . online dating!

“Oh, we met through an online dating thing,” I finally say. “I avoided them for a long time, but you know. It gets lonely, and those algorithm matches can be spot on.”

I can feel Markov behind me, listening to everything I say.

“Oh, I love it,” Sophia says. “Takes the drama and guesswork out of the equation!” God, if she had any idea. Markov coughs into his hand. I kick him under the table.

Irina and Morozov walk in, so we both stop talking as they lay out our plans for the day.

“Now,” Morozov says, his eyes twinkling. He’s totally in his element and loving it. “After basic orientation and the overview of our goals here, we’ll outline the modules we’ll be studying. We’re bypassing our standard introduction since all of you seem to have such great rapport. We don’t want to waste time with any of the icebreakers we typically use to warm the team up and will get right to it.”

Fine with me. I hate that stuff. I’m ready to get busy.

“Great rapport,” Jake scoffs under his breath to me. “Some were accepted because Mommy and Daddy could pay, and the rest got in to satisfy some quota. Not very impressive.”

I press my lips together and don’t respond.

“And which might you be, Vera?” Jake asks, his tone casual but edged with provocation as he leans closer to the lab table, eyeing the vials of biological agents we’ve been given to inspect.

I give him a withering look and turn back to the task at hand.

Markov, who has been quietly observing from a short distance, narrows his eyes, sensing the tension. I shake my head at him. Suddenly, Jake, perhaps to demonstrate a misguided point or to taunt me further, begins to gesture animatedly with his hands, dangerously close to the vials.

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