Page 86 of Never Distract a Biker

I narrow my eyes. “No, you’re not. Sit down and let them take care of you, or so help me, Viktor Makarov, I’ll make you sit myself.”

His lips quirk upward, but he relents, settling onto the examination table. The doctor tends to him with efficient movements, cleaning and stitching the cuts that he had acquired rescuing me.

I watch with satisfaction, my heart swelling at the sight of him letting his guard down for me. For us.

It's already morning before the doctor approved to let me leave. As we pull into the driveway, Yelena and Alina burst out of the house, their faces etched with worry.

“Scarlett!”

“Damn!”

They both say simultaneously as they see my swollen eyes and bruises.

“I’m fine,” I assure them, but Viktor’s protective arm around my waist speaks volumes.

“I’m sorry, Scarlett,” Yelena’s voice sounds so unsure, her sharp gaze scanning my injuries.

“I’m fine,” I assure her, though Viktor’s protective arm around my waist tells a different story.

Alina’s eyes soften as they land on my stomach. “And the babies?”

“Healthy,” Viktor replies, his voice filled with quiet pride.

Relief washes over them, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I believe that we’ll be okay.

“You look like you’ve been through a war zone,” she says bluntly, nodding toward Viktor’s bandaged arm.

“Feels like it,” Viktor replies dryly, his arm sliding protectively around my waist as he guides me toward the mansion’s steps.

“I can walk,” I insist, attempting to free myself from his grasp.

“Not a chance,” he mutters, tightening his hold.

“Viktor,” I say, exasperated but secretly touched by his concern. “You can’t keep carrying me. What if this becomes a habit?”

His lips quirk into a rare smirk. “Then you’ll have to get used to it.”

Alina giggles, following closely behind us. “You’re like a grumpy knight in shining armor, Viktor. All that’s missing is the horse.”

Yelena scoffs. “More like a tank. Subtlety was never his strong suit.”

“Ladies,” Viktor growls in warning, though there’s no real edge to his tone.

As we step into the mansion, I can’t help but tease him. “You know, if you keep this up, I might start thinking you care.”

He stops abruptly, his intense gaze locking onto mine. “I do.”

The weight of his words settles over me, silencing any further quips. For a moment, it’s just the two of us in the world, the air charged with unspoken emotions.

In the privacy of our bedroom, Viktor refuses to let me lift a finger. He draws a warm bath, his movements purposeful yet tender.

“Sit,” he instructs, gesturing toward the edge of the tub as he kneels before me. His fingers work the buttons of my shirt with surprising gentleness, his touch lingering as if memorizing every curve.

“You don’t have to—”

“Let me,” he interrupts, his voice soft but commanding.

As he helps me into the bath, the tension in my body begins to melt away. The warmth of the water soothes my aching muscles, but it’s Viktor’s presence that truly grounds me. He kneels beside the tub, his hand trailing lazily through the water as he watches me with a mix of adoration and protectiveness.

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