Page 36 of Knocked-Up Bratva Prisoner

I can’t take it anymore.

I’ve spent most of the day trying to get away, and then more of the day just being frustrated about how good looking he is, and now all I want to do is get away from him so I can pull my thoughts together.

I stand up and march out of the room, needing some time alone.

He doesn’t come to find me until it starts getting dark outside, which oddly hurts my feelings because I don’t like to be alone that much.

“Come on, you are going to help me make dinner.”

“I can’t cook,” I say in horror, knowing that last time I tried to roast a chicken the housekeeper had to run and get the fire extinguisher. Things did not go well.

“I’ll teach you. It’s an easy dish to make. Come on.”

I sit up in bed, where I’ve been lying sulking for too long. I am bored out of my mind. I don’t want him to think I’m not still angry with him, but at least cooking gives me something to do.

I swing my legs off the bed and pull a face at him. I know it’s childish and I don’t care. He grins, and to my absolute horror I smile back at him, but I quickly brush it off my face and give myself a silent lecture.

I cannot be falling for that gorgeous smile.

I walk behind him towards the kitchen and watch the way his back muscles flex beneath his black sweater. And the way his ass moves with each step he takes. Dammit. He is so sexy. He’s tall and muscular and masculine and I just want—

Fuck.

I just want to go home, dammit. Clara, you are a total idiot.

We walk into the kitchen and Alexei hands me a pink and blue apron. I stare at it in disbelief. “I’m not wearing this.”

He pulls his own blue apron over his head and ties it at the back, and I look him up and down wondering what he would look like in nothing but that apron while he cooked dinner for me.

He watches me watching him as he rolls his sleeves up over his thick forearms.

“Why not?”

“Because—just because. Why do you even have a pink apron?”

“For you.” He smirks, and for some reason it sounds like he is telling the truth. Like he specifically choose to buy a pink apron and keep it in his kitchen just for me.

I shake my head. That’s impossible.

Sighing, I pull the strap over my head and then Alexei moves behind me to tie the cord. I want to step away and tell him I’ll do it, but I keep my mouth shut, enjoying the proximity despite knowing all too well it's wrong of me.

He reaches around my body and wraps the cord around my waist twice because it’s too long, and I stand there, forcing myself not to notice how he feels when he brushes against me.

When he is done, I all but manage to hide a sigh of relief. I have to stop doing this. I have to stay focused.

He is pulling ingredients out of the cupboards and laying them across the counter.

“Here, you are going to make our cheese sauce.”

“Are you really sure you want me to help with this? It might be a complete disaster.”

“Little fox, you haven’t figured it out yet? You don’t know that I love disasters?”

Fuck's sake, those eyes are too gorgeous.

I giggle.

Then immediately shut my mouth.

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