Page 30 of Savage Reign

They probably woke up together, tangled in silk sheets after a night of marathon sex, before deciding to hit the gym like any loved-up couple.

Gross.

“Oh, I’ll take some of that vatrushka,” Eva chirps, sliding onto the seat next to me.

Yelena responds with a disapproving sniff. Before I can blink, she lobs one of Eva’s weird flax muffins at her head with surprising accuracy.

“You made, you eat,” she declares.

Eva’s face crumples like a kid denied candy. “But…” she starts to protest, her lower lip jutting out in a pout that probably works wonders on Nikolai.

I bite back a smirk as Eva shoots Yelena a grumpy look before shrugging and biting into her muffin. “She hates when I cook in her kitchen. This is punishment,” she whispers.

I feel a little irrational thrill at Yelena’s disapproval. Not that I have anything against Eva personally. She seems like an okay person. I just don’t like the man she sleeps with.

“How are you feeling?” Eva asks, chewing on a bite of muffin. “You must’ve been totally exhausted.”

“Feeling better, other than the being-held-against-my-will part,” I acknowledge.

She ignores the jab and keeps on eating.

“By the way, thanks for the dress and toiletries,” I offer in a gentler tone.

She gives me a once-over. “Looks good on you. Well, maybe a little tight in the boob area.”

“We’re not quite the same size.”

“But if I had tits like yours…”

Her voice trails off as Nikolai enters the kitchen with Emil right behind him. My mouth goes dry. Nikolai is freshly showered, his dark hair slicked back, dressed in a tailored suit that clings perfectly to his broad shoulders and muscular frame. He looks annoyingly good in a suit.

His gaze meets mine and then drifts lower, his expression darkening with every inch his eyes take in.

“No.” The single word falls from his lips like a command.

“No, what?” I glare at him.

“No to that dress,” he says, smoldering with intensity. Emil immediately turns away, busying himself with the coffee machine. Nikolai’s attention shifts to Eva. “Get her something else to wear.”

Rude.

“Sorry,” Eva chirps, though she doesn’t sound remotely sorry. “That’s the only thing I have here that’ll fit Sofiya.” She picks at a strawberry from the fruit platter. “Take your wife shopping if you want her to dress like a nun.”

The muscles in his body go rigid as his glare locks onto my chest. I've never seen a man so offended by cleavage. “You must have a shirt or something else she can wear over that dress.”

“Nope,” Eva replies, looking far too amused.

“Excuse me,” I interject, lifting my chin. “I’m right here. Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room. And I don’t need to cover up. I’m perfectly fine the way I am.”

In truth, I don’t love having my girls on full display, but if it gets under Nikolai’s skin, I’ll make an exception.

A menacing growl leaves his throat. “You are not fine the way you are. No wife of mine is going to walk around this house, around my men, showing that much skin.”

“Luckily, I don’t consider myself your wi—” The words evaporate as Nikolai peels off his suit jacket and starts unbuttoning his dress shirt. Holy shit, what is he doing?

“Since we’re out of options, you’ll wear my shirt over that excuse for a dress.”

My jaw goes slack as the shirt falls from his shoulders with an ease that makes my stomach tighten. I should look away, but I can’t. Olive skin stretches tight over hard muscles, his torso and arms covered in tattoos. My eyes trail down the defined ridges of his abs, snagging on the V that disappears below his belt. He looks like he’s stepped straight off the cover of a romance novel, and the sight causes my core to tighten.

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