Page 12 of Branded in Love
Do not fall for her,I remind myself. When I first caught her scent, I thought it wouldn’t be more than a onetime fling. But she’s proven me wrong time and time again ever since. And the more we talk, the more I realize I am in danger of falling in love with her... I can’t. I suffered enough the last time that happened. My heart cannot bear another wound. But what if I opened my heart one last time?
“No!” I growl, swinging my head to the side.
“Gavriil?” Sasha says in a low voice. He leans forward, his face twisted into a grimace of worry. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I say under my breath, pulling the drawer open. There’s a bottle of whiskey and a glass. I pour myself a drink.
“Are you sure, brother?” He rises from the seat.
“I’m fine, Sasha,” I mutter, pushing away the glass. “Everything’s fine!”
I can read the startled confusion in my friend’s expression. But I do not care to elaborate, and he knows better than to insist.
Sasha moves to the desk and stops there, silent for a couple of minutes. He sucks in one deep breath and releases it slowly. “I think we should call in our brothers,” he finally says.
My gaze glides to his. “No…” This time, I all but plead.
“If you want Luciana to be safe, we’ll have to stand up to these vampires at some point,” he continues, speaking to me in a paused soothing tone. “We’ll need more men.”
I hate that he’s right. If it were up to me, I’d keep things simple. But Luciana’s life is at stake. My desires matter little. A sigh sails through my lips. “Just the Elite,” I breathe. “No more.”
“The Elite team should be more than enough,” my Enforcer says, pulling his phone out of his jacket’s pocket. He moves to the terrace, ready to make the call.
I turn to my laptop’s screen and look at the keyboard with an empty stare. Then, after a moment’s thought, I sluggishly type in the lettersB-U-F-F-Y.
“Gavriil?” a voice says.
My head swings up and meets her standing at the doorway. My pulse skyrockets in an instant. Gods, will I ever stop feeling like I’m walking on the edge of a cliff every time I see her?
I spring off the seat. “Hey,” is all that comes out of my mouth.I’m such an idiot.“How are you doing?”That’s better.I close the laptop.
“Good,” she says, still lingering by the threshold.
Please, stay there.
She gathers her hands, hesitant to speak while she picks at her nails. “Have any of them come back?”
Should I tell her I set up security cameras shooting at her apartment and the building’s entrance? No. That would make me come off as a tad overprotective of the people I care about—which I am, for the most part. But she doesn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway.
“They haven’t,” is all I say. “I don’t think they’ll come back until they’ve come up with a plan.”
She has not moved an inch. Neither have I. The air thickens, saturated with our energies. Tension and lust on my part, anxiety on hers. I can all but touch her feelings.
I do not wish to frighten her, so I spare her the details of a vampire’s schemes. Blood drinkers are vicious creatures. They will always strive to get what they want, especially when blood is concerned. They usually resort to damaging a victim’s family or loved ones to get their way, which is why I took the precaution of asking if she had any living relatives. Fortunately, she does not.
Even when I’ve carefully omitted that piece of information, her face still pales in dismay. A wild impulse to hold her rises in me. I press my hands on the desk, anchoring myself to the slab of wood. It takes everything inside me not to leap over it and comfort her.
When her gaze drifts to the axes displayed on the wall, I push myself to speak. “Do you like them?” I ask like a fool.
“They’re beautiful,” she says, hugging her arms. “Do you collect axes?”
“I throw them.”Idiot.I want to hide under the desk and never come out. “For sport,” I add. This is so awkward… “Sasha’s a wonderful cook,” I blurt.Good gods, what is the matter with me?“He’ll be making dinner for us tonight.” A pause to steady my quickened breaths. “I… uh… sent the staff away. I hope that makes you more comfortable.” I swallow hard. My mouth is as dry as the Sahara Desert.
“Thank you,” she says in a low, timid voice.
“Feel free to roam about the house,” I add. “Overall, it’s pretty boring, but…”
“It’s a beautiful home,” she says with earnest hazel eyes.
