Page 68 of British Bratva: A Russian Mafia Romance

In true London fashion all the locals had stripped down to shorts at the first sign of blue sky, women in strappy tops and sundresses, men in wife-beaters or t-shirts. The tourists from mainland Europe and other, warmer, parts of the world were recognisable for their refusal to take off their extra layers and pretend that the temperature was anywhere close to what they considered hot.

Little did they know how much of a gamble an English summer could be. When you saw sun, you had to dive right in with all due enthusiasm, because you never knew whether you were in for four days of clement, cloudlessness, a three week heatwave causing water shortages and the deaths of pensioners, or non-stop rain through to December.

Elizabeth helped me unfold the blanket out in a patch of dappled shade from the broad arms of a plane tree and she sat down, folding her legs under her as I unpacked the food.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She was so perfect. All I wanted was to spend the rest of my life knowing that there were as many days like this ahead of us as we wanted.

“Champagne?” Elizabeth’s smile widened as I pulled the newspaper off the bottle and she shook her head at me. “I’m beginning to wonder whether you drink anything else, Max.”

I shrugged, uncaging the cork. She let out a little shout and a giggle as I popped the cork up into the air and let some of the bubbles flood over the side with just as much pent up excitement as I always had for her.

“I also drink vodka, of course. And I don’t say no to a good scotch, or an armagnac. But you have to have champagne with caviar. It’s the done thing, love.”

“Caviar? Oh, is it indeed.”

“It is. You can’t start calling yourself Russian if you’ve never had the real stuff.” I handed her a glass and fished into the rucksack for the little pot of caviar I’d picked up from the delicatessen the day before.

“To us,” Elizabeth announced, smile glinting as she touched her glass to mine.

“To us. The very best people in the world.”

Elizabeth stretch out luxuriously and I thought she looked like she’d stepped right out of Hollywood blockbuster. She could have dominated the screen, sold a million magazines, if that was what she wanted out of life. Between us, we probably had the contacts to make that happen in the Bratva. But she was here with me, patting the blanket next to her to encourage me closer.

I opened the little pot and dished a little out onto the part of my hand where you’d usually put the salt for a tequila shot.

“The secret,” I told her, “with Caviar, is that it always tastes so much better when it’s eaten off a lover’s skin.”

Elizabeth’s smile turned dangerous, wolfish, and she sat up again, her eyes partially hooded as she leaned in closer, keeping her glass carefully upright.

She never broke eye contact as she ducked her head to swoop the little salty eggs onto her tongue. “Like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Mm. You should have saved this for the bedroom Maxim.”

“But it’s such a beautiful day,” I purred, handing the little pot over to her. “I would rather be out here, in the sunshine, lying down close to you.”

Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed and she wiggled closer so that it was almost difficult to focus on her eyes. I couldn’t understand how she’d accepted the life I was offering so easily, without question, but I saw without a doubt that there was nowhere else she would rather have been.

I tried not to grimace as she stuck her finger into the caviar pot and scooped out a little. “Love, that’s beluga. Give it some respect.” The fleeting irritation passed when she smeared a little trail of the tiny dark beads along the line of her collar bone.

So help me God, I was going to ravage her in a public park and get us both arrested for indecency. But I was bloody well going to enjoy every minute of it.

Elizabeth

There in the sunshine in the park, swapping kisses and snuggling close to Maxim on the blanket he’d brought, I felt like I was in some kind of daydream. A month ago I would have never imagined I’d be in love.

I couldn’t have imagined all the things I’d done in the past few weeks either. Everything had changed and I didn’t want a single thing to go back to how it was before.

I lolled onto my back and Maxim’s arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me close to him.

“Are you going to train me up?” I asked him, glancing over at him. I was a little flushed from the champagne, but it didn’t seem to have touched him at all.

“That’s the plan.”

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