Page 37 of Captivated By the Bratva

Sure, he got this room for himself, too. And he said he was keeping me with him so he could deliver me home. But I appreciated it all, nonetheless. That was why I hurried through my shower, eager to get back to him. If he was going to be stubborn and try to be distant from me, I’d hack at his defenses and find the lover I’d enjoyed last night, the protector who'd worried to keep me safe.

He was quicker than me, already dressed in sweats that had been delivered. Rivulets of water clung to his skin before trailing down his bare chest. Standing near the bathroom door where he’d showered, letting steam curl out into the main room of the suite, he ran his hand through his long hair and let the moisture whisk out.

“Over there,” he said without emotion, pointing at a bag on the other bed.

I should’ve been shocked by his show of wealth. He’d waved money at the receptionist downstairs, and it was likely that young man who had helped get all these clothes so quickly. Money really did make the world go round.

I nodded, dropping my towel. It was a purely selfish action, teasing him and testing him with my nudity.

He’d noticed, but he didn’t stop me from pulling clothes on. After new panties and shorts covered me, I hesitated with the bra at the sound of him approaching.

“What happened to your back?” he demanded, taking over closing the bra clasp.

I closed my eyes, my back to him, and shivered at the brush of his knuckles on my skin. He was so close but determined to remain out of reach.

“When you pushed me against the wall in London, I hit a brick and it cut me.”

He grunted, running his fingertips over the still-healing cut. “You mean when you ran away.”

Not from you.Now that I knew how much he could matter to me, I didn’t want to impose any more of a gap between us.

I spun, not bothering to reach for a shirt. Peering up at his solemn face, I stayed within his arms. He lowered them quickly, and I was distracted by the gash on his arm.

“Running from the future I don’t want,” I corrected him as I guided him to sit on the bed he’d opened a first-aid kit on. “I thought that other man was someone Mr. Avilov sent after me, and I wanted to get away from him.”

He lowered, glowering at me as I began to clean the new blood from his wound. It was located near the back of his arm, and it would have been tricky to tend to it himself.

“And me,” he added dryly. “You ran from me.”

I kneeled next to him on the bed, focused on his injury. I hated to see the angry redness of the wound, and I cringed at the idea that he’d been hurt at all. “I didn’t know who you were.” It was the truth, and realizing it made me want to soften all the way to him. He couldn’t be my enemy. Not when he made me feel so good and encouraged me to let him into my life.

“You will not persuade me to fail this job,” he warned.

I glanced up at him as I compressed the cut.

“I know what you’re doing.”

I licked my lips, hating that he’d view me so angrily. “Helping you?”

“Trying to act all docile and sweet. Helpful.”

I huffed. “I’m never going to besweet,” I argued.Even though I really like it when you call me sweetheart.

“You have to go home. You are expected to marry Lev.”

Sighing deeply, I tried to think of the calmest, clearest way to explain how wrong he was. “If you insist on bringing me home,” I said as I secured a large bandage to his cut, “then do as you must.”

He narrowed his eyes on me. “But?”

I pulled my lip between my teeth. “But I won’t stay. I won’t marry him. I’ll run again. I will never stop running from being forced to marry someone I don’t want.”

Before he could say whatever he’d opened his mouth for, I covered his parted lips with my hand. “I won’t. And if my dad asks your Bratva for help to retrieve me again, I will run faster and harder.”

His dark stare pierced me, as if he were searching for my soul.

“I don’t want anything to do with Lev or any other Avilov. That is final.”

Still, he gazed at me.

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