Page 62 of Viktor

For the first time in weeks, her confusion cleared, and her heart opened just a crack. Mr. Bossy Pants might not be so bad after all.

“This is not a good idea.”

She kept packing, and he started to pace. “You aren’t well enough to travel. Your face is bruised from here to hell and back, and I saw you trying to walk down the stairs this morning.”

“I’m going, Viktor.”

Viktor growled. This woman was going to be the death of him. “It’s just one damn signing, Sara. Your fans will understand if you’re too sick to go.”

“But I’m not sick, Viktor, and Iamgoing. With or without you.”

“Why are you pushing this?” He stopped in front of her. “Don’t you understand what seeing you in pain does to me? You nearly took ten years off my damn life when I saw you sprawled out in that stairwell all bruised and lifeless.”

Her gaze softened, but her resolve was still there. Dammit. Was he going to have to lock her in the damn bathroom?

“Viktor, this is important to me.” She held up her hand when he started to argue. “So many times I had to cancel a signing because I was so battered I was afraid to go out in public. Roger beat me just so I couldn’t go, and for no other reason than because he knew it was important to me. Yes, I’m battered, but this time I’m not letting anything or anyone hold me back. If you want to come, then you’re welcome to, but you’re not stopping me from going.”

“Dammit,moye sokrovishche.” She had to go and allude to him trying keep her home was putting him in the same category as her bastard husband. When she tried to pick up a box of books, he snatched it from her. Damn woman. Didn’t she know lifting anything heavy wasn’t going to do a damn thing to make her back heal faster?

“I am perfectly capable of picking up some books.”

He shot her a baleful glare. “Not as long as I’m here. Your back needs to heal.”

“Then, by all means, Mr. Bossy Pants, please load all the heavy boxes in the Jeep by yourself.”

He looked around at all the boxes. “Mason!”

Sara burst out laughing, and he let the sound soak into his skin. He loved to hear her laugh. She’d been doing more of it since that night on the couch. It gave him hope she was coming around to his way of thinking. He knew he still had a long fight ahead of him. There was no doubt about that, but he’d take any glimmers of hope he could get.

“What?” Mason poked his head in the door. He had on pink glitter eyeshadow.

“What the fuck?”

“I was playing dress-up with my girl. What the fuck you want?”

Viktor shook his head ruefully. Delia had his brother wrapped around her little finger. Not that he could say much. She’d convinced him to wear a crown and let her paint his nails last night. There was still a trace of the purple junk around his nailbeds.

“I need help packing this shit to the Jeep.”

Mason eyeballed the boxes. “You’re a big, strong man. I got faith in ya, bro.”

“Fucker, get your ass in here and help me.”

Mason sighed heavily. “You want to tell Princess Peach in there why you’re stealing her model?”

Viktor narrowed his eyes. “I swear to God, Mase…”

“Fine, fine,” Mason grouched. “Princess, I got to help Viktor load the Jeep.”

“’Kay!” Her voice carried from the living room.

“Stop being grumpy because you didn’t win the argument,” Sara told him. “I agreed to overnight all this to the hotel and fly down instead of driving. Count yourself lucky I let you win that one.”

“You let me win?” Viktor’s eyes turned to slits. “Sass everywhere. Sass from Mase, sass from you. I’m surrounded by sass.”

“What can I say? I’m a sassy boy.” Mason posed and blew his brother a kiss.

“Out!” Viktor pointed to the door. “Or I swear I will not be responsible for what happens, and you can explain to Mama why you’re black and blue.”

---