Page 15 of Knocked-up Bratva Bride
Maybe not then, but now….
Now, I could feel it, alright.
Chapter 5 – Damien
Soft.
That was the first word that came to mind when I tried to describe the beauty of the woman gripping my wrist like a vise. She wassoft,angelic, in a heavenly way, and appeared decades younger than me.
Still, sheamused me.
The lights caught the hazel-green in her eyes as they stayed fixed on me, making them appear brighter until they were a shade of jade. Behind her, chestnut-brown hair flowed below her shoulders in lush waves, and the tips hovered over the thick curve of her ass.
I allowed my gaze to wander to the swell of her hips hidden beneath the short leather skirt, and I kept my breath steady while hers was all over the place.
She blinked, as if coming to her senses, let go of my wrist, and put some distance between my chest and her face. Her full, shiny lips opened and closed like a fish on dry land. It was almost funny watching her futile attempts to produce sound, and when nothing came, she walked past me, moving further down the hallway.
Strangely, her immediate absence stung, and every sound of her heels clicking away nudged me to turn around. I watched as her hips swayed and her hair bounced as she moved briskly.
I slid a hand into my pocket. “You didn’t tell me your name.”
She stopped and took an eternity before looking over her shoulder. “Thank you.”
I couldn’t see her face, but the sound of her voice was evensofteras it echoed off the walls. I ambled closer, keeping my pace calculated and smooth in order not to scare her. “Thank you? Or you mean your name is Gracia?”
“No, no.” She shook her head, swirling around to face me. Under the light, I spotted the faint red hue that dusted her cheeks. “I meant, thank you for saving me the embarrassment of falling to the ground.”
“That was the proper thing to do. If your name isn’t Gracia, what is it, then?”
Nervously rubbing her legs together, she blushed harder, offering a shy smile. “Elena.”
“Hmm.” I tested the letters on my tongue before letting them roll off. “Elena.”
It was the second time I’d heard the name today.
The red on her cheeks couldn’t have gotten any darker, and she appeared younger. “And you? What’s your name?”
“Damien.”
She nodded and looked away briefly. “Are you from around here,Damien?”
Her question was unexpected, and it fanned my curiosity to know where she was heading with it. Slowly, I crooked my head to the side, shrugging. “What do you think?”
“I mean,” she gestured toward me and allowed her hands to fall to her sides, “there you are, standing in the middle of a passage, talking to me with a commanding air of superiority like you own the place. Oh, and there’s an accent I can’t quite place. So, I would think, with that foreign audacity, no, you are not from around here.”
Interesting. In addition to her striking physical features, she was also a smart individual.
I quirked an eyebrow, feeling my lips curve to the side. “And I have the feeling that’s not all you’d like to say.”
She exhaled an airy laugh, shaking her head. “No, it’s not. You’re sure you want me to keep talking,in the middle of the passage?”
“By all means, go ahead.” At the very least, her voice wasn’t irritating or grating on my nerves. Quite the contrary, the effect was calming. “I can assure you, no one would dare interrupt.”
“There it is again, that confidence. It’s…astounding, but somehow not out of place.” She didn’t realize it, but she continued rambling. “One look at your hard, composed exterior and your rumpled shirt and rolled-up sleeves, and anyone would see a tired businessman in need of relaxation and a good time. But then, there are those.”
She pointed to my hands.
Intrigued, I look at them and back at her. “You have something against tattoos?”
