Page 24 of Knocked-Up Bratva Prisoner

I reach out and gently touch her face as she stares down at the pants.

She looks up and glares at me.

“Don’t touch me,” she snaps.

She just needs a little time. That’s all. She will adjust to having me around. I can’t blame her for feeling agitated right now.

“I’ll be downstairs.” I step away from her, even though it is the last thing I want to do. “I’ll make us something warm to drink and some food. Hot chocolate or coffee?”

“Coffee, obviously.”

“Why obviously?”

“Because I need to stay awake so I can watch my back.”

“You have nothing to fear here, Clara. You are perfectly safe.”

She ignores me as she wiggles the pants on without unwrapping the towel from her body.

Then she turns her back to me and the towel drops as she struggles to pull the hoodie over her head and hold it up at the same time. My eyes trace over her back. I need to leave before I do something else impulsive.

One impulsive act a day, Alex. Let’s not get carried away.

I pull her bedroom door closed and lock it from the outside.

“What the fuck?” I hear her shout from inside. Then I hear banging on the door. “Did you just lock me in here? Alexei? Open this door right now.” She’s furious again.

I turn and walk towards the kitchen, ignoring the barrage of insults flying at me from behind her bedroom door.

Wow. She’s got one hell of a mouth on her when she’s angry. It’s sexy. It makes me wonder how feisty she is in bed.

The entire time I’m making the coffee and some toasted cheese sandwiches I can hear her banging, kicking, yelling, making all kinds of trouble up there.

I think if I actually take this food to her now, she will fling it at my head.

I chuckle to myself.

I do like how feisty she is.

I sit down at the kitchen table and eat my toasted sandwich quietly.

When it’s done and I pick up my coffee to take a sip, I realize that there is nothing but silence coming from upstairs.

Okay.

She’s calmed down.

I pick up a tray with her food on it and carry it up to her room. With one hand, I unlock the door, half expecting it to be pushed open the second I do.

“Clara, I’m coming in,” I say through the closed door.

Silence.

“Clara?”

Silence.

Shit. It’s too quiet.

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