Page 104 of Lies He Told Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 1)

I laugh. “Showers? Really?”

“What?” He quirks a corner of his mouth. “You didn’t miss them?”

“No, I enjoyed basking in my own filth, naturally. Hand-soap baths in the public library bathroom were just the highlight of my day.”

“So that wouldn’t be your answer?”

“No,” I begin. “My answer would be …” My voice goes little. “Not having to live in fear.” A frown tugs at my face. “Not that every day was a horror film or anything like that, just that … it was insidious. Like a tightness in my chest that never really went away, even when I was in my tent alone. There were so many things to remember, too: like not letting people catch my eye, telling someone to fuck off if they got a certain look on their face, making sure I wasn’t outside of Tent City after it got dark.”

Gavril’s face is severe as he covers me with his arms. “You should’ve never been there in the first place.”

I roll my eyes. “I thought we established how it was all perfect in the end, since it’s how we met each other.”

“Yes, yes,” he says impatiently, already getting out of bed. “Anyway, today I have another surprise for you.”

He looks so excited that I get excited. “Again?”

He grins. “Again. Consider this present a symbol of my affection.”

“Ooooh. Hold the phone, is Gavril Vaknin admitting he has feelings for me?”

He reaches over to slap my butt. “Don’t push it.”

“Hm, let’s see this surprise then,” I say. “Unless breakfast is first?”

“It won’t take long. May put us in better spirits for breakfast anyway.”

“All right,” I say. “But you’ve been warned.”

Gavril smiles as he tosses me a sleek cotton dress. “More than warned. I’ve experienced Joy in the morning myself.”

“And survived,” I remind him, smirking back as I pull it on.

“C’mon.” He slaps my butt again. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Inside the car, Gavril gets out the red silk blindfold again and ties it on me. “I don’t know,” I muse. “For you to top your last surprise will be a hard sell.”

“You’ll see,” is all he says, settling his free hand on my upper thigh.

I groan, trying to stifle the growing horniness between my legs. “Unless you’re planning on making sweet love to me in the next few minutes, please stop with the handsiness.”

Gavril just laughs. The rest of the ride is more light touches, light conversation. Gavril’s excitement is contagious, and I can’t help but fantasize what he’s dreamed up this time.

A ride in a horse-drawn carriage around the city? A rooftop restaurant he’s booked out just for us? A vacation in Hawaii? All of the above?

By now, we’ve talked so much, I can’t even remember the dreams and wants I have mentioned to him and those I haven’t. Not that I expect Gavril to fulfill my every wish and desire. Far from it. It’s just that the man seems to have a knack for doing exactly that, whether I expect it or not.

Gratitude rushes through me. God, I’m lucky. Maybe our whatever-this-is is still new, but with every day that passes, I feel more at ease with him, more right. He shows me that he cares more and more.

Anyway, what are the little worrying things I don’t know about him compared to the wonderful things I do know?

“We’re here,” Gavril says.

My body is buzzing with excitement even though I still can’t see a thing. He helps me out of the car onto pavement. It smells metallic, oily—are we somewhere industrial?

Gavril never mentioned having a private jet—but does he? Maybe we’re going to Italy to meet some far-flung relatives. Maybe we’re going to Australia because, well, it’s freaking Australia.

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