Page 48 of Sold to the Russian
“You expecting anyone?”
“It could be one of my siblings,” he answered. “They’re the only ones who know where this place is.”
One of his siblings. Great. That could ease some of the tension between them.
She spun on her heel. “I’ll get it.”
She was already at the door before he could protest. She turned around, remembering he was the only one who could open the door.
“I disabled the fingerprints,” he said, looking at her as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “You can open it.”
Maeve’s heart fell to her knees. “When?”
“A week ago.”
That was right after they had sex, after she’d passed out on his chest. Why? What did that mean? That he trusted her enough to let her leave and come back as she pleased?
They were still staring at each other, hot seconds ticking away in the space between them. She winced when the doorbell chimed again, and she took a deep breath before opening the door. The moment she did, a gust of wind and noise slammed into her.
Because it wasn’t just one of his siblings, it was all four of them, crowding the door with varying lengths of smiles on their faces.
Chapter 17 - Fedya
Out of all four of his siblings, his sister’s smile was the biggest, her teeth gleaming in the light when she screamed “Surprise!” and then tackled Maeve in a hug that knocked the wind right out of her.
Fedya pressed his fingers deep into his temples, drawing soothing circles, willing himself not to lose his shit over his siblings’ unexpected visit. It wasn’t that much of a surprise anyway. He was barely answering their calls or texts, only letting them believe he was busy. It was only a matter of time until they pulled this kind of stunt, inviting even Ilya, who was supposed to be busy with his kids.
Viktor and Kostya poured into the kitchen like a storm while Irina and Ilya stood with Maeve at the door, saying things to her he couldn’t hear. But Maeve was smiling, accepting Ilya’s hand, so it was clear he was finally introducing himself.
“Fedya’s cooking for a woman,” Viktor said with a grin, peeking into the pot like a curious child. “My God, this is historic.”
Kostya snorted, tugging the fridge open and grabbing a can of beer. “Next thing we know, he’ll be writing poetry and quoting Dostoevsky.”
Fedya reluctantly tore his gaze from Maeve and narrowed in on his brothers. “Mind telling me what the fuck you’re all doing here without a notice?”
“You disappear for one week.” That was Ilya who had slapped him on the back. “And everyone thinks you’re either dead or married.”
Maeve glanced back at Fedya, who stood frozen next to Irina in the kitchen doorway. Irina, who wouldn’t stop chatting her ears off about God knows what.
“I will, in fact, kill you all before you leave.”
“After dinner, though,” Irina said, jutting a thumb towards the door. “We brought vodka.”
Viktor’s eyes slid to Maeve, a loose grin playing on his lips before moving back to Fedya. “Also, the last time we asked, it seemed like you two just became a thing—”
“I’m pretty sure I said we met a few months ago—”
“—and now you’re holed up together in the middle of nowhere. Are those wedding bells I’m hearing, or am I just going deaf?”
“Don’t be dumb,” Fedya said. “We’re not living together.”
“I just came to spend some time with him,” Maeve chimed in naturally, smiling at all of them. “I’m only staying the weekend.”
“I’d be offended if I were you,” Kostya said, looking around. “Of all places in the world, he brings you to a house with no curtains and bolt-locks on every door.”
“Interesting choice of location,” Viktor said.
“Privacy,” Fedya explained with a fed-up sigh. “I brought her here for privacy. The kind you’ve all just ruined, thank you very much.”
