Page 74 of The Bratva's Auctioned Bride
Wishful thinking gets you nowhere.
“Did you sleep well, princess?” His voice is gruff with sleep, and the deep husky drone of it makes my heart flutter.
“I don’t even remember falling asleep, but I feel amazing right now,” I whisper.
“You fell asleep almost instantly,” he chuckles, still not letting me go.
“All the excitement got to me, I guess,” I reply.
He closes his eyes again, sighing with satisfaction. I try to close my eyes too, to savor the moment, but somehow I feel awkward. Like I’m playing pretend games.
“I need to pee,” I laugh nervously, wiggling away.
He huffs, grinning, and pretends not to let me go for a second before he unwraps his arms and sits up. “Can I make you a coffee? Tea?” he asks.
“Coffee, please.”
“Last time you woke up next to me after a wild night out, you snuck out of this place in such a rush I didn’t even get your name,” he says, eyeing me, reminiscing on the night we met.
My cheeks blush pink as I slip out of bed. “How about I stay for breakfast this time? Are you any good at making pancakes?”
His eyes brighten. “I’m literally the best pancake maker you will ever meet in your entire life,” he declares boldly.
“I guess I’ll have to judge for myself…” I grin, then turn away from him and hurry into the bathroom. I don’t really need to pee so badly, but I do need a moment to pull myself together. Seeing him standing topless, in those damn grey sweatpants, stretching his arms to wake himself up… It’s a challenge not to pounce on him and make some lame effort to seduce the guy. I mean, I could. Why not? Oh, right, because we’ve already caused such huge issues for our families, and I don’t want to do it again.
In the bathroom, I splash water on my face and run my fingers through my hair. It was so sweet how he took care of me last night. No one has ever done that for me before. His touch was different, gentle, sweet. It was filled with longing somehow.
OrI was reading into it becauseIwas longing for something I can’t have.
I bite my lip and stare at my reflection. My eyes look a tiny bit puffy from the smoke last night, but otherwise, I look well rested. Physically, I’m fine. But I know myself well enough to recognize the struggle reflected in my green eyes.
“Come on, Angelika, you know why this can’t happen,” I sigh, lecturing my reflection.
When I come out of the bathroom, I decide, for better or for worse, to message my brother and tell him I left early to go shopping. That I took a guard and that I needed space and time to think, but I’m safe. At least that takes the pressure off me needing to rush home. And while he might be angry that I did that, at least he won’t be in a panic that I’m hurt or missing.
***
When I walk into the kitchen, Diomid is humming, whipping a gooey mixture in a glass measuring jug. He grins at me, gesturing toward the concoction.
“The best pancakes on the planet—coming right up,” he says proudly.
I slide onto the kitchen counter, my legs dangling down, swinging as I watch him.
“Are you using butter in the pan?”
“Of course, what a silly question, of course it’s real butter. Anydecentchef knows you only userealbutter,” he replies, pompous and overly posh.
I giggle, and he throws me a cheeky grin.
“Oh, your coffee…” he huffs, setting the glass jar down and picking up a mug of freshly made coffee, carrying it over to me. “There you go, princess. Let me know if you need anything else?”
“This is amazing, thanks,” I smile, sipping the sweet, rich brew.
Diomid looks playful and happy while he makes the pancakes. He makes me laugh loudly when he puts on a grey apron, tied with a bow at the back, and asks me if I want the full show or if he should keep his pants on.
“Um,” I stammer, very eager to see the full show, but again, knowing I shouldn’t flirt with such thoughts.
“Right, of course, a dignified princess such as yourself should not be lured by a common chef. My apologies.” He winks at me and turns back to the pan.
