Page 46 of The Bratva's Hunted Bride
“You waited up for me?”
She nods, and I grab her into my arms, my heart aching with her sweetness.She waited up for me.
She lets me hug her, but when I pull away, she asks again. “What happened?”
“One of our warehouses was attacked. We had to clean up and try and get things back in order.”
“Oh no. Did you catch the people who did it?”
I clench my jaw. I can’t let her know it was her brothers. I don’t want that worry to be on her shoulders. I don’t want her to feel guilty or to think this is her fault in any way. She didn’t cause this.
“No. Not yet. It looks like one of the smaller groups.” I shrug, brushing my hands over her shoulders. “Come to bed. I want to lie with you,” I say, tilting her head up with my fingers beneath her chin. She smiles, her eyes warm and beautiful. Then she slips her hand into mine and lets me lead her to my room.
Chapter 20 - Talia
The past few weeks have been incredible.
I stopped trying to deny how I feel about Timofey, and while we haven’t actually spoken about it, I can easily think he feels the same about me, given the way he treats me.
I’m living the life of a queen. Adored, pampered, smothered in affection and attention, and I’m loving every minute I get to spend with him.
But I’m worried about him.
Night after night, he comes home late, and on a number of occasions, he’s been incredibly stressed, but he isn’t talking about what might be going on.
It’s late on Thursday night, and Timofey isn’t home yet. It’s past ten now, and I’m really tired, so I imagine he’sexhausted, considering he left the mansion early this morning after receiving a call that made him tense.
When I hear his car pulling up in the driveway outside, I jump up from the sofa and practically throw my book aside to rush to the front door to greet him.
“Tim,” I say happily, rushing into his arms. He pulls me close and buries his face in my hair, taking a deep breath and hugging me tight.
“Hello, darling. Did you miss me?” he says.
“Yes, horribly. Why did you have to work so late again?” I ask, stepping back and looking up into his weary eyes.
“Just some things going on at work that I had to deal with.”
“Tim, this doesn’t look like just normal work. And it’s the third time in the last week that you’ve come home looking like you got dragged backward through a bush.”
I wish he would tell me what was going on. It’s clear something is weighing heavily on him.
He scoops me up into his arms and carries me away from the door toward the kitchen.
I snuggle into the curve of his neck. He smells of cologne and sweat, and it’s turning me on.
He sets me down on the edge of the kitchen counter, and I immediately slide off and rush to the oven to pull out the tray of lasagna inside.
“You must be starving. Just relax, I’ll heat some dinner for you.”
I push him to the side of the kitchen, and he leans quietly against the counter with his hands shoved into his pockets.
I watch him from the corner of my eye.
He pushes his hand through his hair and then massages his thumb and forefinger against his temple.
My heart aches. I want him to feel like he can talk to me about anything.
I hate the fact that he’s holding back. It makes me nervous, because things have been so great.
