Page 39 of Brooklyn Bratva

I stepped out of the bedroom, peering into the corridor. The light from his office was bright around the edge of the door, spilling out into the hall where it was only just ajar. I could hear Ivan talking to someone in Russian.

Self-consciously, I folded my arms around me and tiptoed over to the door, trying to peer in the open gap without being seen. Something was going on. First Ivan turns up with a bullet wound he didn’t want to get treated and now he was having secret conversations in the middle of the night. I really didn’t want to come face to face with anyone apart from Ivan with no underwear on.

The door opened inwards right at the instant I reached for the handle and Ivan filled the doorway.

“What are you doing?” His voice stayed determinedly quiet and I whispered in return, very conscious of how silent the rest of the apartment was.

“I heard voices.”

“You were listening in on me?” Ivan’s jaw rippled and before I could reassure him, he pulled me back with him into the office, closing the door firmly behind us. His laptop was on, and I could see Skype open, but the video link was closed.

Ivan took a step towards me, and I automatically stepped back because of his sheer presence. Then the solid door was behind me, and there was nowhere else for me to go.

I could feel his breath against my skin, rising goosebumps all over me with a pleasant shiver.

“What did you hear?”

“Nothing really. I mean… a bit of Russian maybe. It sounded like when you used to talk to Dad. I’d sit up listening. I bet you never knew that.”

“No. I didn’t know you were so interested by me.”

His smile softened his face, but his eyes never left mine.

I followed his gaze down to my chest, where my nipples were not cooperating when it came to keeping my cool. They were holding his shirt clear of my breasts and he hooked a finger into the collar, pulling the front of the shirt out a little. I knew he’d see all the way down to my breasts and beyond them, down my stomach and to the neat mound of my pubic hair. I might as well not have bothered with the shirt at all.

God, I liked that he wanted to look at me.

“Not by you. Ivan… Interested in you.”

I bit my lip, worrying the flesh in my embarrassment at finally admitting any of this to him. My voice had shrivelled up to a tiny little thing. I swallowed hard. The only way I was going to get through this was by staring at my toes and the woodgrain on the laminate boards.

“I always have been. I’ve tried to move on, put you out of my head, but I can’t. Every time I close my eyes, it’s you. You’re the man I’ve been dreaming about every day since we left. And I – I know this is stupid. I know it is. And I’m sorry, I know this isn’t what you signed up for when you set this up. You don’t even know me, and you probably have this whole life with people your own age. And – damn it. I was going to have some great speech worked out about how we’d be perfect together and instead I’m rambling on like a total bunny-boiling psycho just because we slept together. I mean, how ridiculous is that? I’m totally delusional, right?” I laughed, because I had to. It was the only thing I could do.

After all this time I’d finally detonated the bomb, and waiting for the aftershocks was terrifying. My laugh ground itself out. I forced my eyes closed, because otherwise I was going to do something horrendous like let that stinging lump at the back of my throat turn into tears. This couldn’t have gone worse if I’d planned it. “Shit.”

I pivoted on the spot, groping for the door handle, wanting nothing more than to run for cover. I thought I was brave. I wasn’t brave, I was foolish, and I’d just handed him my underbelly to shred to pieces. It was one thing to let him take me to bed, but it was a whole other level to admit this. How was I going to look him in the eye again? How was I going to face Mrs. K?

I pulled the door open, but Ivan leaned over my head and it only took a touch of his hand against the flat of it to push it back into the frame. I pulled at the handle, but he was leaning his weight against the door and I couldn’t even move it.

“Ivan…”

“Say it again.”

I cringed, covering my face over with my hands. I wanted to disappear into the floor. “Oh hell no. Just – forget about it. Pretend I never said anything. I’m sleepwalking. That must be it, right?”

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