Page 51 of Virgin Bratva Prisoner

I nod, smiling. She looks excited maybe it’s the phone call, maybe it’s for this evening’s plans.

Either way, I am happy to see her smiling.

Raisa is on the phone call with her brothers—four of them were able to join the call—the others were busy—she is chattingaway happily. She asks them how they’ve been and if they are all safe. I know she has been worried about them, especially after someone took a shot at us not too long ago. But I promised to keep them safe and I have kept that promise.

Raisa chats for half an hour, all the while she comes across as someone who is relaxed, settled and enjoying her life. Not once does she give the impression that I kidnapped her and forced her to marry me.

I don’t know if she is damned good at acting or if she is starting to enjoy being in my home.

I know I’ve been enjoying having her around.

***

At five, Raisa walks into the living room, looking like a goddess.

The red dress I chose for her fits perfectly, and compliments every inch of her body.

I feel my blood rushing quicker as I stare at her.

Shit.

Maybe I should have chosen something less sexy. I am going to struggle to pay attention tonight because she is so distracting.

“Oleg, this dress is gorgeous, but isn’t it a little over the top for a restaurant?”

She brushes her hand over the soft fabric clinging to her body.

“No, it’s perfect for the place we are going to.”

I usher her out to my car, opening the door for her. She climbs inside, her eyes on me as I walk around to the driver’s side.

She doesn’t know yet, but the place I have booked is not actually inthiscity.

Chapter 16 - Raisa

Oleg drives us out of the city and my confusion really kicks in when we arrive at the airport. He parks the car on the runway right next to a plane, then climbs out and opens my door for me. He tosses the keys to a man who comes to greet us.

“Park it in the hanger. Thanks, man,” Oleg says.

“What’s happening?” I ask.

“We are taking a short flight,” He grins, leading me towards the jet.

“You rented a jet for us?”

“No, little flower, this is my jet.”

I hold back from letting my jaw hit the floor.

We walk onto the plane and the hostess hands us each a glass of champagne. “Mr. and Mrs. Dubrov. Welcome,” she says, ushering us toward the back where there are very comfortable looking sofa style chairs, all cream leather and looking over the top extravagant.

I sit down next to Oleg, glancing out of the window.

“You didn’t have to go to this extreme, Oleg. Could we have gone to dinner somewhere in this city?”

“No, I thought you needed something special to relax a little. Let your hair down and enjoy the night, Raisa.”

My stomach flips as the plane takes off, I grip the edge of the seat tightly. I have never been that fond of flying. Not that I’ve flown much in my life. The longest flight I ever took was the one to come to this city.

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