Page 27 of The Bratva's Sold Bride

Well, that wasn’t what she was going to say, and not especially what I wanted to hear, but it was a start, anyway. I made the grave error of beaming at her.

“You don’t have to be smug about it,” she snapped.

“Why would you think I was being smug?” I asked, coaxing a smile out of her with my teasing tone. “Maybe because you think I have every right to be?”

Biting on her lower lip, she looked up at me with such heat in her eyes I couldn’t hold back. Within seconds, a handful of her wet hair was gripped in my fist, her arms wrapped around my neck, and our lips locked together. I backed her against the wall, consumed by her fire once again.

Until both of our stomachs growled so loud we jumped back from each other, cracking up at the same time.

“Restaurant,” she said breathlessly. “Food.”

“Go get changed.” I tapped her chin and turned to get out of my own wet clothes in my room. Soon to be our room, because that was a hill I was ready to die on.

We met back out in the hallway, and when I took her hand to lead her out to the car, she didn’t shove me away or giveme a filthy glare. I liked this way too much. Was I about to join my brothers in marital bliss? Sure, I had wanted Olivia enough to seek her out and try to fix her problems. It had been bad enough thinking I was about to lose a chance with her, but I’d seen red when I realized she was in danger of ending up in Rurik Kuzimin’s foul hands.

It seemed like I was stepping up at the time, but now it was so much more. She wasn’t just mine. Was I becoming hers as well?

“Should we have a drink at the cantina after dinner?” she suggested as we drove past the bustling nightspot on the edge of town.

“Whatever you want,” I said, liking the idea of having her in my arms while the rollicking live band that was there every night played. “If you’re not too tired from all the exertion today.”

“I can keep up with an old man like you,” she grinned.

“Ouch,” I said, holding onto my chest as if I’d been stabbed, not at all offended. Just happy to see her smile. “This old man sure made you scream this afternoon.”

“Hmph,” she answered, her cheeks turning red, but her eyes glazing with the memory.

“We better stop talking about it,” I said as I pulled into the parking area behind the restaurant. “Or I’m going to teach you how to fuck in a car.”

She shivered, licked her lips, and pressed her hand into her stomach. “Maybe after dinner? I’m so hungry I could eat my own arm.”

“Like I said, whatever you want.”

Inside, the jovial owner greeted us, telling me there was another gringo in the village. “Maybe we’re turning into apopular tourist spot,” he joked in Spanish, but I was instantly on high alert.

The town was vibrant, but tiny and way off the nearest highway. I asked him to describe the person to me, wanting all the details, ignoring the fact that Olivia was getting irritated that I was speaking Spanish and not taking the time to translate for her. Right now, I needed to get to the bottom of this stranger who just happened to show up a few days after we did.

“Is it a man or a woman?” I asked, glad I’d mastered the language at a young age since it opened up so many more business opportunities in a place so close to Mexico. My father might have lamented that my Russian was nowhere near as good, but he was the one who chose to move his operation to Southern California before I was born.

“An American man, or so I think,” the owner answered. “I haven’t met him yet, but he’s got a room at the inn for one night, so he might show up here later.”

If that man was here for Olivia and me, the last thing I wanted was to be there if he did. I thanked the owner, explaining we wouldn’t be staying that evening after all as calmly as I could. Inside, I was anything but calm, needing to get Olivia back to the house, which was surrounded by guards. It had been foolish to get so relaxed I hadn’t brought one of my guys with us. I wasn’t even armed, and I kicked myself for the oversight.

“Change of plans,” I said to Olivia, taking her by the arm and turning her back toward the door.

“What? What happened?” She looked around, seeing that there were still empty tables, and then she frowned at me.

I didn’t explain anything until we were in the car and on our way back to the house. My senses were on high alert, watching for any car that might be following us, and wonderingif I should drive in the opposite direction for a while to make sure.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she said after I told her about the stranger. “It has to be some random tourist, nothing more.”

“Was I wrong about the jungle being dangerous?” I asked, raising a brow at her.

“That was a low blow,” she said, turning away from me to stare out the window.

I assured her that I’d fix her up something delicious once we were at home, but I did decide to take a long, convoluted way, only turning off on the winding road that led to the house until I was certain we weren’t being followed.

By then, she was back to ignoring me, positive that I was overreacting and had ruined our fun night out. We ate the steaks I hastily grilled for us in silence, the tension back and so thick the brand-new steak knives wouldn’t have sliced through it. When it was time for bed, she begrudgingly got in beside me, but was so distant it was like she was still in the other room.

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