Page 14 of Nanny for the Bratva Daddies

“To take care of you.”

Irritation rises like static in my chest. I want peace and quiet to run through my thoughts and try to make sense of what is going on here. I want to plot my cover and find a way to see Zasha, to check that he really is being cared for. Part of me also aches to cry and release the throbbing build-up of tears behind my eyes.

I can’t do that with Daniil here.

“I don’t need babied.” Any other day—literally any other—and having Daniil in my room would be a dream. Likely as part of some dirty fantasy, too. Just not today.

Daniil ignores me, though. With the door wide open, he sets about running me a bath filled to the brim with bubbles. The water runs, and the scents of lavender and lemon tickle my nose, enticing me toward the warmth. A bath wouldn’t be a bad idea. I’d briefly considered a shower when arriving here, but the thought was so exhausting that I’d shelved it for tomorrow. Now Daniil presents me with that option, with minimal effort if he does all the work.

Turning my back, I make a beeline for my bed and flop down onto the blue bedspread. The familiar warm scent of my fluffy top blanket brings me comfort, a small note of soothing that I cling to. My bedside table is cluttered with a few new items—a bottle of painkillers, two bottles of water, and a square chocolate bar with a small, scribbled note attached.

Leaning up, I eye the chicken scratch across the paper and a smile tugs slightly at my lips.

Sugar is good for shock. –Ester

Of course.

The squeak of taps draws my attention back to the en suite. Daniil stands in the doorway with his thick arms crossed across his chest. The bunching of his muscles draws the fabric of his vest and shirt upward, giving me the slightest peek at the warm, golden skin of his abdomen and the tiniest hint of more ink.

I tear my gaze away before it gets too obvious.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Do you need help getting undressed?”

A sharp scoff rises in my throat. “Why, do you want to see me naked?”

“No.” Daniil doesn’t move. “Your ribs were injured in the crash. I’m concerned you won’t be able to get your shirt off.”

“Oh.”

Heat flares across my cheeks as if Daniil’s words had a physical impact. Of course that’s what he meant. How could I be so stupid? Fyodor’s kiss clearly has me losing my mind. Standing, I hurry toward him and brush past with a mumble, utterly embarrassed but he catches my elbow.

“The door stays open.”

“What?!” More warmth bleeds across my face, flushing down my throat and my heart starts to race.

“You have a head injury. I don’t need you passing out in the tub and drowning.”

He has a reason for everything, huh?

“Fine.” I pull my arm away before the fire of my embarrassment can eat me alive, then trudge into the bathroom.

“And for the record?”

I turn to Daniil as he closes the door over halfway.

“I don’t need a bathing excuse to see you naked.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean? I want to ask. No, I want to demand, but so much has happened tonight and the warmth of the bathroom is so enticing that the bath becomes my only focus. Daniil remains in sight but he keeps his back to the door.

Somehow, that’s disappointing and I’m not sure why. Maybe I just want the comfort. It’s a similar pull as when Fyodor was standing so close to me and the urge to sink into his arms and cry was at the forefront of my mind.

I strip slowly, keeping one eye on Daniil but he remains steadfast. He doesn’t turn around, not even once. The ever-silent statue watching over everyone. Tiredness gets the better of me and after a painful attempt to get my shirt off, I sink into the enticing, captivating warmth of the bath.

The warmth of the water immediately highlights just how cold I was, and the touch of heat is almost painful. My legs throb, my knees ache, and my ribs complain as if the water is scalding hot. I grit my teeth through it all until I’m fully submerged, then I close my eyes.

Warmth envelopes me like a cocoon, and a peaceful silence falls. Bubbles fizz gently, and the occasional drip from the tap tinkles through the air. Floral scents invade my lungs, soothing tight muscles from the inside out while the events of the day slowly melt away. For a moment, in the protection of the hot water, I am just Naomi. Nothing else matters. Nothing else exists.

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