Page 37 of Knocked-Up Bratva Prisoner

“Alright. Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I say, sounding disinterested in everything even though my heart is beating a million miles an hour.

Working with Alexei in the kitchen is both fun and terrible.

It’s like torture because I really am angry with him, and I don’t miss any opportunity to throw a comment in there to let him know I’m still fuming, but at the same time, I am having so much fun just making a mess and cooking good food.

And somehow, only heaven knows, the cheese sauce comes out tasting incredible.

I can’t believe I actually made that—with his help, but I mean, nothing caught on fire or exploded.

When I carry the bowl of pasta through to the dining room, I see that Alexei has set our places, seated right next to each other.

What game is he playing at?

I am about to slide my place setting to the opposite side of the table when he throws me a warning look.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls, and I freeze, suddenly unsure of myself. “We made this together, and you will sit with me and eat it next to me.”

I obediently sit down even though it annoys me.

His thigh is pressed against mine beneath the table, and the tension between us is getting worse by the second.

At least the food is incredible.

I tuck in and stay quiet, forcing myself to ignore the heat where our bodies are touching.

Alexei chuckles at me then reaches out and runs his thumb across my cheek, wiping sauce away. He dips his thumb into his mouth to lick it clean and I watch his lips.

Then I turn away and rub at my cheek with my sleeve, annoyed again.

How am I going to survive being trapped here with him when I am furious at him but also can’t stop perving?

***

Over the next few days I begin to see just how difficult it is to live with Alexei Dubrov.

We are going at each other nonstop, both cheeky, feisty and challenging. We’re definitely getting on each other’s nerves, but then every time we come close to each other it’s as though the air between us is electrically charged. My skin feels tingly, and my blood seems to pump faster, pulsing through me; everything is suddenly unpredictable. I don’t even trust myself.

I can’t tell anymore if I would even try and stop him if he kissed me—or if he tried something else.

I want him to kiss me, and I would want to slap him if he did.

I am so confused and every day that goes by is making it worse.

I need to get out of here.

Chapter 10 - Alexei

Clara has been here for almost four days now, and my brothers are beginning to grow suspicious of why I’ve been off the radar for so long. I haven’t been into the warehouse once since I took her, and I’ve been staying off my phone because I don’t want to have to answer their questions.

I haven’t even been to my other house, which is pretty out of the norm for me. Although what is normal, anyway? I hate the predictable routine of life.

It’s not like me to go quiet like this unless I am up to something.

Last time I flipped off the radar I took the private jet to Miami for a few weeks. I needed a break. A little party. Some time away from the monotonous daily toil of life.

Of course, they were all furious, because apparently, it’s irresponsible and impulsive to do something like that. Apparently, I should have told someone or checked in.

To me, it’s just living. Why should I have so much money, so much available to me, and not be able to have a little fun here and there?

---