Page 23 of Paved in Hate

That almost sounds like future talk, and that’s not at all what this arranged marriage is about. It doesn’t matter that I’m curious or that I’d like her to trust me enough to tell me the truth. None of that fucking matters. What does matter is the phone call I’m about to make to her brother to set up a time to meet so we can start infiltrating their Bratva and we can find out where Alina is.

I need to get my head back into the fucking game and far away from this vanilla-scented woman with wet, pink panties and eyes that look like they’ve seen way too much sadness and pain.

I have a feeling that’s going to be easier said than done.

“All right,ptichka,time to clean these cuts.”

Chapter5

Katya

Little bird.

The nickname rolls off his tongue like he’s been calling me that for years, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s just as surprised to hear it come out of his mouth as I am. I make sure my dress is pulled down enough when he carefully dabs at my cuts with the cloth before grabbing the medicine.

“This might sting,” he says, smiling when he sees the look I give him. “Okay, it’s probably going to sting like hell, but we’ve got to disinfect these.”

I try not to think about how damn gorgeous he is when he smiles. He’s gorgeous all the time, but Vitaly smiling takes sexy to a whole new level. The man is breathtaking, and when I think about the way he’d been staring up my dress, my whole body starts to heat up again. I still don’t understand him. He’s not at all the monster I was expecting, and I can’t figure out if it’s all a show or not. None of his brothers seem like Konstantin and Osip, though. When I’d mentioned Danil beating Simona, they’d all looked appalled at the very idea. The women don’t act scared, and they do things that Oksana and the women who have been my brothers’ pets over the years would never do. Konstantin would’ve beaten the hell out of Simona for dropping that mug, pregnant or not, and he would’ve also beaten Jolene and Emily just for daring to look him in the eyes. I don’t understand the Melnikov family, and it worries me. I don’t like not knowing who I can and can’t trust. Back home it was easy. Don’t trust anyone. But here things are all mixed up.

The sting of the medicine pulls my attention back to the present moment and stops my frantic thoughts. I hiss out a breath when he dabs on some more.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, keeping his touch gentle as he puts more medicine on, making sure the cuts are all cleaned and not in danger of becoming infected. I feel his scarred hands against my skin as he holds my foot.

“Can I ask what happened to your hands?”

His whiskey-colored eyes meet mine. “I was in a fire when I was fifteen.”

He doesn’t elaborate, and it feels too invasive to push him for details, so I just say a quick, “I’m sorry. That must’ve been awful.”

He gives me a small nod before grabbing some bandages and going back to doctoring my feet. When he goes to disinfect the last cut, I let out another hiss at the sharp sting, he leans in closer and blows out a breath against my skin. The warmth of it sends a shiver down my spine, and a soft moan escapes before I can stop it. Our eyes lock, and when I feel the heat of his breath again, I try not to squirm. With his hand cupping my foot and his mouth so close to my skin while my dress keeps trying to ride up and I can feel my panties soaking in real time, it’s the most intimate moment I’ve ever had in my life. I’m used to men pretending I don’t exist and going out of their way to make sure they don’t look at me, but Vitaly’s not doing any of that. His amber eyes are studying every detail of me, and I feel completely exposed and laid bare. It’s too much, so I look away, breaking whatever kind of hold he just had over me.

Without a word, he starts bandaging my feet, and when every cut is covered, he gives the top of my foot a soft squeeze and says, “Don’t move.”

I watch him walk out of the bathroom, unable to keep my eyes from roaming over the broad pair of shoulders, trim waist, impossibly firm ass, and muscular thighs. If he looks this good in clothes, I can’t imagine what kind of godlike beauty he is when naked. I’d seen enough last night when he’d been hard and wearing grey sweatpants to know the man is packing some serious dick. I know how damn lucky I am that he hadn’t forced anything last night, because I doubt I’d even be able to walk today if he had. My body might be responding to him, but that doesn’t change the fact that I was terrified last night, and I’m still carrying around a healthy dose of fear. I’m still working through my feelings for him when he walks back in carrying a pair of thick socks.

“This should help a little bit,” he says, carefully slipping the large socks on my feet. He hands me two pills and a bottle of water. “So should this.”

I eye the pills in my palm.

“Aspirin,” he says, lifting a brow at me. “Not roofies or whatever the hell else you think I’d slip you.”

“I didn’t think you were slipping me a roofie.” At least I’m pretty sure I wasn’t thinking that. I swallow the pills and set the water down.

He apparently doesn’t believe me. “You have severe trust issues, but I guess that’s to be expected.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’m not surprised you don’t trust easily with Konstantin and Osip as your brothers.”

“And you think you’re better than them?” I can’t keep the frustration out of my voice, even though warning bells are loudly ringing in my ears, trying to get me to shut the hell up. “Last I heard you were in the same business as my brothers, and you own a club that I’m guessing is involved in way more than just stripping.”

Vitaly rests a hand on either side of me, caging me in with his powerful body. Leaning in close so our faces are only inches apart, his eyes narrow in anger. “I’m nothing like your brothers,ptichka.”

“I don’t understand,” I whisper, wishing he’d back up just a little bit, because I can’t think when he’s this close.

“You don’t need to. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Without a word, he scoops me into his arms again and carries me to the bed. He sets me down and then hands me the remote to the large flat-screen TV hanging on the opposite wall.

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