Page 19 of The Bratva's Auctioned Bride
I watch Angelika walk up the stairs, my eyes struggling to tear off her. She’s gorgeous. Even filthy, covered in a layer of grime from wherever they held her, and dirt from when she fought back, and a few blood stains from our escape. Even looking disheveled, angry, and tired, she’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
Groaning inwardly, I look down at myself. I’m also in need of a shower. That rescue mission left me splattered with blood and soaked in sweat.
Climb into the shower with her.
I scoff at myself.
What happened last night should have been enough to satisfy me for a while. Why the hell am I so fired up over her? I had her. It was great. That’s that. There’s no need to dwell on it anymore.
Yet, my body still yearns for her. Craves her.
While Angelika is in the shower, I scratch around in the kitchen and put together an easy dinner of macaroni and cheese with bacon bits and creamy sauce.
She comes back downstairs looking calmer, her wet hair hanging loose down her back. She’s wearing some sweatpants that are a little too big for her, hanging low on her hips to show off her sharp hipbones and slender waist. The T-shirt is tight around her breasts and cropped.
Isn’t it funny how she looks ten times hotter in this outfit than she did in that dress?
Fuck.
I might be in trouble here.
“I, er, made some food.”
“Thanks, I could smell it from upstairs, and my stomach was already growling.” She smiles sweetly as she looks at me, then reaches out to touch my arm, sending a wave of heat spilling through me.
“Thank you, Diomid. You saved my life. I can’t imagine… I don’t want to imagine. I mean. Just thank you.” She looks up at me with those gorgeous, big green eyes, and my heart softens.
I’ve been too hard on her.
No, wait. What the hell?She’s manipulating me withcharm,seeing as I refused to bend to her outright demands.
My heart hardens again, and I smile, nodding curtly. “No need to thank me. I did it for your brother.”
She doesn’t like my answer at all. In a flash, she’s withdrawn her hand, and with a sulky pout, she picks up her bowl of pasta and storms from the kitchen.
I bite back the laughter.
I didn’t budge on her demands. And I won’t fall for her charm. She’s not going to get control of me, no matter how hard she tries.
I pick up my dinner and walk through to the living room, finding her sitting on the sofa, tucked into the corner, eating silently. I sit on a different sofa, set on enjoying my dinner and then heading up to shower. But I keep finding my eyes on her.
Why is she so fascinating to me?
Is it because she’s such a brat and I’m determined to teach her a lesson? Or is it something else?
No.
There’s nothing else going on here.
This princess just needs to be brought down a notch.
Once I’ve taught her some manners, I’ll send her right back to her brothers and likely never see her again after that.
My chest tightens and my jaw clenches.
Whatever.
She’s a Shev.
