Page 78 of The Bratva King

He moves to the refrigerator, pulls out deli meat and cheese, and sets it on the counter. I watch him make two sandwiches.

“Because I was here. She didn’t need to be.”

I could point out she’s the nanny, and that she’s supposed to be here. But I don’t.

“He’s asleep?”

“Yes.”

“I should go check on him.”

“Sit. Eat.”

He slides the plate toward me.

“Thank you.” I finally look at him directly. I’m embarrassed. He rejected me, and it still stings.

“He ate meatloaf,” Nikolai says. “We read two books. He brushed his teeth.”

I smile. “Thank you.”

I take a bite of the sandwich and realize I haven’t eaten since noon. I didn’t take a dinner break. I wanted the hours, and they needed me on the floor.

He pours me a drink without asking. He slides it across the island, and I take it.

I’m not going to think about the office. The humiliation. He’s pretending it didn’t happen. That works for me.

I won’t think about the way his hand felt sliding into my hair, or the fraction of a second before he pulled back, when he was kissing me back. He was kissing me back. I know he was. I didn’t imagine that.

I take a sip of scotch. He watches me over the rim of his glass. I see the heat in his eyes. I’m not crazy. That was the look I saw before I kissed him.

He comes around the island and slides his hand up my arm to the back of my neck.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Touching you.”

I pull away. “No. You don’t get to tease me.”

His hand falls, but he doesn’t step back. “Tease you?”

“Make me think you want me, then reject me again.”

His expression hardens. “You think I didn’t want you?”

“You made that quite clear.”

“I wanted you.” His voice is flat. Certain. “I stopped because I thought you were trying to pay me back. I was wrong.”

“What’s different now?”

“Nothing. I still want you. Now, I know it wasn’t payment.”

I take another sip. “That’s convenient.”

“It’s true.”

His eyes drop to my mouth.