Page 35 of Arranged to Marry the Bratva

"Almost?" I tease, my fingers finding their way to his strong biceps, tracing the contours of his muscles. "Is there anything I can do to make it truly unbearable?"

"Careful, Anoushka," he warns playfully, his eyes darkening with lust. "You might just unleash the beast inside me."

"Maybe that's what I want," I reply, surprising even myself with my boldness.

Nikolai groans softly, his grip on my waist tightening as he pulls me flush against him. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into," he growls, his lips hovering over mine.

"Show me," I whisper, my heart pounding in anticipation as I throw all caution to the wind.

Chapter 15 - Nikolai

I watch as Anoushka dances around the kitchen, gathering ingredients and utensils. She's got music playing and sways her hips to the beat as she works.

"Think you can out-cook me, old man?" she teases, flashing me a grin.

I let out a hearty laugh. "Old man? I may have seven years on you, but I can still keep up."

She arches an eyebrow. "Oh really? Care to put your money where your mouth is?"

A cooking challenge? My competitive side flares up. "All right, little girl. You're on."

Anoushka claps her hands together gleefully. "Yes! Okay, let's make… hmmm… how about pasta? From scratch. We'll both make the noodles and sauce."

"Agreed." I roll up my sleeves, ready to get to work. This should be fun.

We gather our ingredients—eggs, flour, olive oil, tomatoes, garlic, and basil. Anoushka puts on an upbeat soundtrack as we prep our stations.

"No cheating now," she says with a wink.

"Wouldn't dream of it." I wink back.

We get to work, kneading dough, chopping vegetables, and focusing intently on our tasks. Anoushka sways and sings along to the music as she cooks. She looks completely in her element.

And also, she is so damn pretty when she’s happy.

The kitchen soon fills with delicious aromas. We occasionally bump elbows and trade playful gibes as we hustle around. Anoushka 'accidentally' flicks tomato sauce at me. I retaliate by 'accidentally' sprinkling her with flour. Our laughter echoes off the walls.

When the food is ready, we dish up two plates each and take our seats at the table. Steam rises temptingly from the pasta.

Anoushka rubs her hands together. "Let the tasting begin!"

I take a bite of Anoushka's pasta, the tender homemade noodles coated in a rich, herb-flecked tomato sauce. She watches me eagerly as I chew.

"Well?" she asks.

I swallow and grin. "Not bad."

She punches my arm lightly. "Not bad? I'll take it."

It's her turn to sample my dish. She twirls the noodles around her fork and brings it to her lips. Her eyes widen as she tastes it.

"Wow, Nikolai. This is incredible," she says after she's finished chewing.

I can't help but feel a surge of male satisfaction at impressing her. "Why, thank you. I do have some skills in the kitchen."

Being here with Anoushka like this feels… right. Our eyes meet and hold. Without breaking my gaze, I reach over and wipe a speck of sauce from the corner of her mouth. She holds on to my hand, turning her head to give it a small kiss.

Something between us changes as our eyes remain transfixed. Hers on me, mine on those lips.

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