If I had a flicker of hope — and one of those sweet fucking smiles is enough to make me start thinking that way — it would be over for her.
I pinch the bridge of my nose.“This isn’t working out. You working with the men. It’s wrong, on both sides of the equation.”
“That was an over-reaction. Even for a man of your reputation.”
I shrug.
Can’t deny that. I’ve acted on impulse before — it’s kinda my whole brand — but normally the impulse is selfish. Survival of the trigger-happy is how we roll in the Bratva.
This was different.The impulse which clouded my brain this time was all about her. Protecting her like she’s some kind of vase I have in my possession and simply cannot break.
I never accounted for the fact that my wife would occupyso much of my mental space in my plans. She’s a distraction from everything that I’m trying to do, if not an active impediment, given that I now have to think about her feelings as part of my plot to kill her father.
I just killed a man for slapping her ass.
Because even in her working clothes — heeled boots that go over her thighs and a tight dress, instead of the short floaty things she normally wears around the apartment — she’s fucking irresistible and I don’t trust those men around her.
Anyone who spends a moment with her is sure to feel exactly the same way that I find myself feeling.
Homicidal. Maniacal. Determined to have her so badly that I’ll blow up anyone who gets in my way.
Wordlessly, I pull Natalia inside the door of the loft and run my hands through that pretty golden hair. She takes a shaky breath and guilt twists in my chest. I’m the reason she’s scared.
She’s okay. She’s breathing, in my arms, if a little shaken by seeing a man die for the first time.Nothing happened — except the death of a lowlife which can easily be written off as a workplace accident by Yuri.
Not that I was thinking clearly enough to consider the consequences. That man could’ve been the fucking Pakhan of the Bratva and I would’ve acted in exactly the same way.
I stroke my thumb over her velvet-soft cheek, catching a tear before it falls. That’s when I realize how fucked I am.If Natalia’s hurt, I’m going to make her feel better.
“I still want to finish the game,” she protests.
“No.”
Her face crumples in disappointment. “I just wanted…”
Her voice trails off as I circle her wrist slowly and deliberately.
Fuck, I can feel her trembling with shock. I gently stroke the soft skin of her inner wrist before I lace my fingers through hers. Her clear green eyes widen as I drag her upstairs, towards her bedroom.
18
NATALIA
Maybe I’m being a brat right now, but I feel like Leks is being unfair. I wasn’t breaking a single rule.
So a creep decided to touch my ass.Big deal. It made my skin crawl, but it had nothing to do with my game with Yuri.
I was playing a game of chess, for God’s sake. What could be more innocent?
My bedroom isn’t small by any means, but standing with him in this space makes him inescapable. There’s nowhere I could go that I wouldn’t be able to feel his presence or drown in his masculine scent.
And Leks has no intention of letting me get far, right now. He’s so close that I have to tilt my chin up to look at him.
“You’re not going back there.”
“What happens if I do?”
His face darkens. “You don’t want to find out.”
