Page 51 of The Bratva's Sold Bride

What could I do, though, except stew and glare? Exactly nothing. Not with my overbearing husband determined to keep me safe at all costs and half the resort about to be filled up with his guards. I sighed, and then shrugged, waiting for further orders.

“Ivan’s looking into the problem,” he said. “For now, let’s just act like tourists.”

“Fine,” I said, turning away. “I’m going to drink a margarita on the beach.”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” he said.

That was how we ended up watching the waves roll in and out while sipping on icy, blended cocktails and soaking up the sun as it made its way closer to the watery horizon. He kept me from overthinking about anything as he regaled me with stories about his brothers when he was younger. An especially sweet one about how they all banded together when their surprise baby sister Mila was born was touching enough that I finally gave in and smiled.

“She had to be born just as the Vasilievs were staging a concerted attack on three places at once. We were so pissed, because Mama went into labor and we were determined thatPapa should be there, but we wanted to be the first to welcome her into the world, too. And all the while, our buildings were literally on fire.”

“So you had to miss out because of the fight, or did you concede?”

He snorted. “Concede? What is that? We just kicked their asses faster and got to the hospital as they were wheeling Mila to the nursery. She was an ugly baby, but she aged up all right.”

I laughed at his assessment of his gorgeous sister, who was around my age. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Max mention the Vasilievs before.”

“I told you we were pissed, didn’t I? There weren’t any of them left after they nearly made us miss Mila’s birthday.”

I countered with my own story of when I was around ten and three of the kids of my dad’s associates convinced me to sneak into one of the boss's offices and steal from petty cash. We made off without about fifty bucks, too afraid to take any of the big bills after we pried open the locked drawer, and gorged ourselves on candy.

“We got caught when we still had chocolate all over our fingers, but we all puffed up our chests and pretended we had nothing to do with it, all the way up to the point we were watching security cam footage of ourselves in the act.”

“What happened?” Dima asked, as rapt as if this were life and death.

“We had to scrub toilets in every dive bar your father owned at the time. It was only because of him we didn’t get beaten to an inch of our lives, though. Strangely enough, I think my father was actually a little bit proud of me.”

“Yeah, well, look at how he’s been living, pilfering from everyone who’s ever tried to help him out. Thankfully, you didn’t go down his road.”

“Uh, not after cleaning all those filthy urinals for a week. I never stole again.”

We ended up laughing, and Dima took my hand. I didn’t yank it away, but tried to ignore how good and right it felt. I fondly told him a few stories about my mother, unable to keep from wondering what she would have thought of him.

“One time, we had to leave in the middle of the night to hide out from my father’s bookie, and she made it seem like a game, to the point it’s one of my best memories. She was so brave and smart.”

“Just like you,” he said. “See, life wasn’t all bad in the Bratva. Admit it.”

“No, it was all bad,” I said. “But yes, it was exciting sometimes. Your childhood seemed a lot more interesting with all those siblings. I wish I had a brother or sister.”

“You’ve got a bunch now,” he reminded me.

Well, that didn’t warrant thinking about, since I didn’t want to think about my plan of escape that would sever those ties. I was tipsy from the margaritas, and the warmth of his hand as the temperature began to cool off with the setting sun made me feel cozy and relaxed, like I was on vacation.

“This is a nice time,” I said.

“And you’re getting chilly.” He smoothed the goosebumps on my arms and stood, leaning down to lift me into his arms. “Let’s check out our suite.”

Switching altitudes made me realize I had at least one too many of the delicious drinks, and I let him carry me withoutfuss. The suite was every bit as beautiful as the beach outside the windows, and the bed was huge and luxurious. After tucking me in with a pile of pillows behind me, Dima found the remote and plopped down beside me.

I wrestled the remote from his hands, and we pretended to bicker about what movie to watch, when in reality, as soon as we chose, we ignored it to keep talking. He pulled up the covers around our legs, and we traded stories. The light outside the balcony window went from deep blue dusk to midnight black and slowly faded back to light again.

“No sunrise over the mountains today,” I said sleepily.

“Sure there is,” he said, whipping back the covers. “It’ll just be farther away.”

We went out to the front terrace, which overlooked the pool and the front of the resort. Dima was right; if you squinted, you could see the faint outline of our mountains in the distance. The sun made a big show of coming up to start a new day, and we settled into one of the wide loungers to watch as the sky got lighter. No one but a few workers appeared by the pool, which was many floors below us, and our terrace felt like a nest far from any prying eyes or ears.

As the pale gray horizon became bluer and the orange line became a blazing ball of yellow, Dima put his arm around me with a soft sigh. There wasn’t a single thought in my head except for the beautiful scenery and the warmth of Dima’s strong chest under my cheek.

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