Page 10 of His Disobedient Bride

But I think there must be something fucking wrong with me, since the first thing I asked Dmitri when he comes back in is if we got them all.

“I think so,” Dmitri starts to say, ignoring the “we.” He smells like oil and gunpowder and his fingers are dirty.

But Gleb points out the window. “One car still there,” he said as he started the limo again.

“Shit,” says Dmitri. “We are going to have to push on to the next safe house and see if we can lose them. It’s a long way away but I know it’s the most secure one. Only the Pakhan, my father, and Andrei know about it.”

“Where are we supposed to stay tonight?” I asked, trying to keep the edge of panic from my voice. “Why can’t we call Andrei?”

“We have to wait until we get to a safe house that isn’t compromised to use the equipment,” Dmitri said. “The one we are going to absolutely will be safe.”

“Well, what about tonight?” I asked.

Dmitri pointed down the street of the city. “We’ll get a place somewhere inconspicuous here,” he said.

Well, apparently “inconspicuous” meant a filthy and run-down motel, and I protested as Dmitri came back with a single room key.

“The people at the front desk are going to think we are having an orgy,” I said. “Can’t you get two rooms?”

“No,” said Dmitri. “It’s safer to not separate.”

“And what do you think Andrei will have to say to this?” I demanded.

“He knows no one would dare to touch you,” Dmitri grunted, and I huffed in annoyance, fear and unease beginning to creep over my skin about what would happen when my husband didn’t know where I was.

The motel room was even worse than I imagined, as I opened the door to the sound of a cockroach skittering across the floor. There were two single beds and they looked so lumpy I was afraid there were dead bodies under the sheets.

“You can have one bed and we will take turns in the other,” Dmitri said.

“You need a wife,” I said briskly, feeling his gaze all along me as I sat gingerly on the edge of the bed.

“I wanted a wife,” he said. “I was outranked.”

I huffed again.

“I’m waiting,” he said, his dark eyes on me again.

“For what?” I asked sharply. “For Andrei to die? That’s disgusting, Dmitri.”

“I’m waiting,” he said. “If I am needed, I’ll be there.”

I threw up my hands. “Does Andrei know this?” I asked.

Dmitri shifted, and I thought I saw a bulge in his jeans from where his eyes had rested on me.

“Yes,” he said.

I had seen Dmitri’s cock down plenty of women’s throats. I didn’t think he was pining away for me. But I decided to change the subject.

“The good news about this dump,” I said, “Is that we might come away riddled with flea bites, but no one will think of looking for the wealthy Bratva Petrovics here.”

8

MARY

It’s another hot August day and I’m back at the coffee shop trying to get work done on my latest romance. But my Scottish lord and the fascinating things under his kilt are simply not hitting like they normally do. I normally write with my fingers flying over my keyboard, but today it’s all I can do to peck out a “and then she ran a wet pink tongue over the engorged head of his monstrous spear” before I have to stop and look out the window glumly. It shouldn’t be this hard to write a story with a Scottish lord and a panting governess. I debate adding a few more Scottish lords to the story. Maybe I’ll make it a time-traveling story, turning my governess into an accountant and sending her through a magic portal into a medieval Scotland where two dukes will fight for the honor of marrying her.

I wish I had two dukes fighting over me.

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