Page 36 of Trapped By the Bratva

Ivan shrugged and smiled. “Why not? And I realize we’ll need to wait for you. Until you’re ready to go out and party like that.”

“Don’t make plans around me. Do what you want,” Dmitri said as I brought over an ice pack for his ankle. I lifted his leg, aiding him in bringing it to the mattress.

“Or maybe I could share the fun. We could have a few dancers and strippers come here to entertain you.”

Inhere? In his room?I furrowed my brow, dropping the ice pack too quickly on Dmitri’s ankle.

“Ow,” he said, hissing.

“Sorry.” I couldn’t look him in the eye. Heat rose up to my cheeks, and I couldn’t help the blush. I envisioned it so easily, women dancing and entertaining him. One giving him a private lap dance. Maybe others servicing him in other ways…

“That should improve your mood, right, jackass?” Ivan chuckled. “Get some loving and be happy?—”

I stepped back and knocked into the rolling cart that Dmitri pulled close to his bed at night.

“Whoa.” Ivan put his hands out to help prevent me from bashing into something.

“I, uh…” My cheeks were so hot. My heart thundered so quickly. Too many thoughts crowded my mind. My imagination ran away, concocting visions of Dmitri with other women. Sexier, more seductive women who knew how to approach men. Women who wouldn’t be too timid to reach out for the simple concept of any form of companionship.

“Hannah?” Ivan frowned at me as I set the cups and things upright on the portable table.

I couldn’t look him in the eye. I couldn’t face Dmitri, either. After acknowledging the utter loneliness I seemed doomed to be stuck in, I felt personally attacked somehow.

I was… jealous. And how stupid was that?

Of course, Dmitri had been with other women before me. He was fifteen years older than me. He was skilled at pleasuring me, and he no doubt had obtained that mastery with lots of practice.

On other women.

This is stupid, Hannah. Stupid.

I had no right to be this bothered about another woman near my patient.

“Hannah?” Ivan asked again as I backpedaled for the door, eager to get out of there. I was flustered, embarrassed when I shouldn’t have been.

Dmitri had made it crystal clear that he didn’t want me. He didn’t even like me. Since that confusing, impulsive episode of his making me come—which had been nothing but a mockery—Dmitri put a wall up to keep me at arm’s length, figuratively speaking.

I only annoyed him. Nagged him. And pissed him off.

It wasn’t fair that another woman could really see the man he was hiding from me.

Lifeisn’tfair. You know that.

As I turned to leave his room, not uttering another word or glancing at him, I hated how true that fact was. Life was unfair, but I had really clung to the idea that Dmitri could be the one to make me feel less alone in it.

12

DMITRI

Ivan watched Hannah exit my room, then glanced back at me. “What was that about?”

I furrowed my brow, not sure what to tell him. I noticed how upset she seemed, and as I thought back to what triggered it, I almost laughed out loud. We’d been arguing about what it meant to bicker or argue—that was how petty we had gotten with each other—then he mentioned the bachelor party.

Or more specifically, having women come here and entertain me if I wasn’t physically up for attending the party yet.

“Are you…?” Ivan raised his brows, amused and curious. “Are you messing around with Hannah?”

“No,” I answered, perhaps too quickly to be convincing.

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