Page 26 of The Beauty Who Loved Him

Clearly hungover, besides his grey pallor, the dark circles under his eyes gave away his ill feelings and exhaustion, Vaslav reclined in a free-standing bathtub of steaming hot water. With his eyes closed, he didn’t notice her approach. At least, that’s how it seemed.

Steam clung to the air.

No bubbles or oils offered any scent. There wasn’t even a candle lit on the counter, so she had to flick the lights on herself.

Not that he liked that.

The water sloshed violently as he jerked to awareness. Vera didn’t move from her spot in the doorway while Vaslav blinked away his confusion and settled on her figure across the room.

“Mira told me you got drunk last night,” she said.

“Mira has a big fucking mouth,” he grumbled as he settled back into the tub with his arms falling limp over the outer edges.

“Any reason you felt like you needed to drink two liters—”

“It wasn’t the entire bottle. And if you don’t mind, when you bitch your voice feels like someone is hammering nails into my goddamn ears.” He squeezed his eyes shut again, but she could see the lines of tension on his forehead that spoke of pain. “Shut up.”

Vera sucked in a sharp breath at his viciousness. “The migraines are back?”

“The migraines don’t stop.”

Right, right.

Vera had to remember that.

She quickly flipped the lights back off, but opted not to move from the doorway of the bathroom. “I didn’t walk up, by the way. Igor gave me a ride when he came down to check on things at noon.”

“Hmm.”

“I was serious about the date, Vas.”

That cracked his eyes back open. “What?”

He didn’t look at her, but rather, focused on the wall of tiles at the foot end of the tub. At least with his attention partially distracted from her, Vera didn’t feel like it was such a dangerous thing to let her own gaze wander over the man. From his damp, tattooed chest to the strong line of his shoulders covering the rounded run of the head of the tub. Even his muscular thighs dusted with dark hair, both visible as he sat with his knees bent above the water, dragged her focus in and twisted her thoughts with the thread of lust.

If he asked her to, she’d join him. Hell, if he said the right words, she’d probably crawl across the floor naked just to get inside that tub with him. It wasn’t even sex that called her to him. Something else entirely curled around her waist like an invisible rope, tightening and tugging, though she pretended like she didn’t feel it.

No doubt, he’d make the world disappear.

And she’d like it.

It didn’t take Vaslav long to realize she hadn’t answered him. He caught her staring, and she couldn’t even be bothered to pretend as if she was ashamed.

He wagged a finger her way, asking, “What’s all that for?”

“What?”

“You know, that look.”

Vera preened the shorter strands of hair framing her face as a way to avoid what he said. “Are we talking about the date for the wedding or—”

“Your birthday. The first. December. I know it.”

“Yes, but do you like it?”

“It’s soon enough,” he returned. “It works.”

Less than two months.