Page 24 of The Bratva's Plus-Size Bride

“Now you call me that? Fuck, Ella, you’re trying to make me lose my mind.” His pupils are blown wide, making his green eyes so dark I could sink in them. “I can’t take you home tonight.”

My fingers tighten their hold on him, denying his words. “What? But I asked for it. You’re not breaking your promise.”

“You’re more drunk than I thought,” he says, unraveling himself from me. “And I’m not taking advantage of a lapse in judgment.”

No, no, no. This cannot be happening. I finally let the walls down and admit how badly I want him, and he’s too much of a gentleman to do anything about it. I want to howl in frustration, but barely manage to keep it together. So I’m a little tipsy. I’m definitely not drunk, just buzzed, and I’m well aware of what I’m asking for.

But I can see that any argument I have would land on deaf ears. He’s not going to budge because a stubborn mule of a man, and when his mind is made up, I might as well be screaming into the wind.

He straightens the material of my dress so I’m fully covered, something I hadn’t even noticed, then cups my cheek. I resist the urge to smack his hand away. Barely.

“When I take you,” he says, forcing me to look up at him, “it’ll be when you can remember every single second. You’ll beg me for it stone-cold sober, Ella. Only then.”

He bends and presses a tender kiss to my forehead. I’ve never hated chivalry more.

Chapter 13 - Anton

We extend our stay for a few extra days to check out some of the other potential sites now that our initial idea was a bust. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pleased we sealed the deal and secured a new site for one of Luka’s casinos, but it’s a far cry from what I originally had in mind, which was the first step of creating an empire of my own.

Ella is walking on the beach ahead of me. I don’t think she’s forgiven me yet for turning her down the other night, and that’s fair because I don’t know if I’ve forgiven myself, either. I could’ve had her all night long, and instead, I spent another night with fucking blue balls because there’s no other woman in the world for me now that I’ve found her. So I guess this is just my life.

Cock blocked in business and love. Is that what I’m calling it now? Do I love her? I think I might be falling for her, even as she keeps me at arm’s length. “Hopeless romantic” has never been a term anyone’s applied to me before, and I’m not ready to let anyone, especially not her, know what’s happening, but there’s an undeniable spot in my chest where she’s burrowed. Hair blown by the wind, skin turning golden from these days in the sun, Ella looks like a goddess sent down to earth. How everyone on this beach isn’t staring at her is a mystery to me, but it works out because I’d have to pluck their eyes out for it. She’s mine. I pick up the pace and catch up to her, careful to keep a foot of space between us.

She’s wary, side-eyeing me with those big brown eyes that make me melt.

“Forgive me, yet?” I chance, hoping some time in the sun without work to worry about has softened her.

She wags her head from side to side, but I catch a smile teasing the corner of one full lip. “Not yet, but if you find me a seashell pretty enough, I might change my mind.”

I can never resist a challenge. “Deal.”

The beach is pretty picked over this time of day, so I wade into the surf up to my ankles, scouring the waters for a seashell that can change a girl’s mind. I’m so focused on my mission that I don’t even notice the group in front of me splashing and squealing in the waves until one of them shouts my name.

“Anton? Are you… shell hunting? Like an old man?” I recognize the voice. Anya. She’s waist-deep in the crystal-clear water, shading her eyes with one hand as she gazes at me. “I’m telling everyone I know. Immediately.”

“A guy’s gotta have hobbies,” I say with a shrug. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m on vacation, obviously. Ella! Hey! Come over here!” Anya splashes over toward Ella, who hovers at the water’s edge, not wearing a swimsuit. “Didn’t you bring a bathing suit? Or did you expect him not to give you any time off to actually, you know, enjoy the place? Sounds like him, honestly. He can be such a workaholic like the rest of my brothers.”

Ella crinkles her nose. “He really is, isn’t he? But we’re taking the day off.”

“Oh my god,” Anya squeals, grabbing Ella’s hand with her own, a soaked one. “We should go shopping. You and me, and I guess he can come too if he really has to, but I bet you’ve never checked out the shops around here, and they’re seriously to die for. You have to. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Ella glances at me before answering. “I’m not much of a shopper.”

By which she means, she has no money to spend on something frivolous like a shopping spree.

“Consider it market research,” I say, knowing the best way to get Ella to agree to anything is by appealing to her business sense. “It’ll give us a chance to see what the city has to offer.”

She hesitates, but no one can say no to Anya, especially not when she looks as excited as she does.

“I’ll just run up to my room and change. Meet me out front in five!” Anya runs up the beach toward the stark white hotel where she must be staying.

“She’s a whirlwind,” Ella says, picking her way up the beach at a more sedate pace than Anya’s.

There. A perfect, pink shell washes up in the surf right at my feet, and I stoop to snatch it up before trotting to catch up with Ella. “Found it.”

Taking the shell, she holds it up to the sky and inspects it front and back before closing her hand around it. “Hmm. Is it good enough?”

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