Page 75 of Ruthless Reign

She tilts her head and narrows her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“I have no reason to lie. This is my home; there was never anyone I wanted to invite into my space.” I drag a knuckle over my chin. “I’m not saying I’m a saint, but I do have boundaries.”

She flushes, and I can tell she likes the idea that I’m breaking new ground. That’s when she notices the book by my bed. She thumbs through the dog-eared pages of Jane Eyre. “You actually read this?”

“Front to back.” I straighten up. “I wanted to see what you found so compelling about it.”

She sets the book down and raises her eyebrows. “And?”

I shake my head and bring a rough palm to cup her face. “The truth is, I read it to get into your head. To try and figure you out.”

She licks her lips, unease flickering in her eyes as if she’s afraid I'll uncover all her secrets. “Have you figured me out yet, Roman?”

“Far from it.” My hand slides from her cheek to the back of her neck. “But I want to know everything there is to know about you.”

She blinks up at me, her throat working hard to swallow. “We should deal with your shoulder.”

I lead her towards the ensuite, which is decidedly less cozy and more flashy. Marble countertops and a large, freestanding bathtub dominate the bathroom.

“Quite a tub,” she murmurs.

“Could easily fit the two of us,” I point out with a wink before I reach under the sink and pull out the first-aid kit.

Liza wags a finger at me. “You won’t be able to get this dressing wet. Now strip.”

I shrug innocently. “I’m going to need your help.”

She rolls her eyes, helping me take off my jacket. She then unbuttons my dress shirt and slips it off my shoulders, mindful of the wound. Her eyes linger on the expanse of my bare, tattooed chest. Heat creeps onto her cheeks as she drinks me in.

I grab her wrist and pull her towards me. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” I whisper against her lips. “Except, this time, you’re free to touch.”

“Tempting.” Her voice is teasing. “But I have work to do first.”

That doesn’t stop her from leaning in and capturing my mouth in a deep kiss that’s all kinds of magic. I’m ready to pull her down into my lap and ravage her mouth, but with a hand on my bare chest, she stops me.

“We have time for that,” she promises.

I shake my head in an attempt to come back down to earth while she rummages through the first-aid kit.

She studies my shoulder. “Looks like it's just a graze.”

“How do you know how to do any of this?” I ask as she skillfully flushes the wound with saline before applying a disinfectant. “Your family’s not even bratva.”

She curls her lip. “Yeah, but my father got himself in trouble with the bratvas. His drinking and gambling addictions mean he came home plenty of time with wounds far worse than this.” She shakes her head, a frown overtaking her beautiful face. “You’d think he would have learned by now.”

“Addiction is addiction. It's not easy to stop cold turkey.”

“True. And it's not easy to stop when your wife insists on money coming into the household, no matter what. If my mother really wanted my father to get clean, she would have helped. Instead, she kept insisting that he gamble bigger to recoup his losses. Not that it ever worked.”

“And that's why your parents need you to marry rich. To keep them afloat.” Bitterness crawls up my throat as I think about all the shit Liza's family has put her through for their gain, never about what's best for her and her life.

Her mouth tightens, and she doesn't say anything for a while. “Families are complicated, but everything I do, I do for Sofiya. My parents made their own bed.”

The expression on her face tells me she's reached the end of her patience when it comes to her parents.

I release a sharp breath as she dabs at my shoulder with disinfectant.

“Sorry, this part always hurts,” she murmurs.

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