Page 43 of The Russian's Kidnapped Bride
She wanted me, and she gave in. It was mutual.
And now, I’m not wasting that high. Pleased with myself, I bask in the aftermath, unhurried in every movement, while I lean on an elbow and watch as she digs through the shopping bags she hasn’t moved to the closet yet.
Her brows are pinched in concentration while she tries to find somethingacademic, apparently coming up short.
“You’re going to be late being that picky,” I say knowingly.
Lily jolts in place before forcing out a breath. “Jesus Christ.”
“Close, but not quite.”
Unamused by my grin, Lily shakes her head and continues rooting through the bags before pulling out a fresh blouse, tags, and all.
Unfortunately, she isn’t going for any tight black dresses today. Not while she has to be Lily, the med student again.
“I have class,” she mumbles as if I don’t already know that.
“And I was kidding. You’ll make it on time,” I tell her, trying to be vaguely serious at least. I sit up and stretch my arms over my head. “You don’t need to worry—not while you’re my wife.”
“Is that supposed to be comforting?” She asks bitterly, shuffling into the clothes she has chosen for herself.
As tempting as it is to sling something scathing back at her, I don’t say anything. Instead, I lift a brow in her direction.
Her hostility doesn’t sting in the slightest. Not today.
Not while the scratches on my back are still fresh, and definitely not after feeling her warm, desperate breath against me for quite some time.
I’ll let her pretend she hates me because it doesn’t matter.
We crossed a familiar line last night, and there’s no turning back for either of us.
She can act like I’m her enemy, but her ecstasy didn’t lie.
When I stand and stretch some more in only my boxers, I catch her glance in my direction, and I can’t fight back that smirk on my face.
She looks away quickly, but her attraction is no secret. Neither is mine.
“The car will be waiting downstairs when you’re ready,” I tell her, grabbing my phone from the nightstand before walking by her. “The driver knows where to go, and your new security detail will be on standby.”
Lily pauses at this, giving me a skeptical glance. “And they’re just going to follow me around all day?”
I hum, not missing a beat. “Yes. You’re my wife, so get used to being guarded.”
I can see the urge to argue shifting through her features, but she holds her tongue.
Instead, she grabs her bag and leaves the room, leaving a cold front behind.
It’s fine…she’ll thaw again soon enough.
***
By midmorning, I pull up to one of our smaller warehouses on the city outskirts, finding Nikolai and Ivan in the basement with a few others. They have a man tied to a chair in the center of the room, lip split and bruising like an apple.
Already, it smells like sweat and blood, and there’s plenty of tension in the air from the interrogation being well underway. It’s a familiar thing, even if I’m not usually the one breaking hostages. That’s more of Nikolai’s gig, and Ivan’s when he needs to let off some steam.
He’s one of Maxim’s old loyalists, and apparently, our men had been busy last night. They found him digging where he shouldn’t have been, and that was enough to land him here.
The last rats we offered didn’t have much to offer us, but we’re nothing if not resilient.
