Page 25 of Bratva King

Natalie met his gaze, and she squeezed his hand ever so slightly. "Because after ten years, I wanted to see you again and maybe find out why you didn’t come back for me.”

“Now that you have your answers, what are you going to do next?” Alexei eventually asked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Depends on what you’ll decide to do with me next.”

Alexei snorted. “I doubt I could hold you for long once you’re fully healed.”

“You can, if you put me in chains.”

Alexei glowered at her. “That’s exactly the last thing I’d want to do to you.”

Natalia didn’t miss the fact he moved his gaze from her lips to the rest of her, hidden under the comforter. She swallowed because that impulsive kiss she stole from him told her something vital.

Ten long years, she wanted him, still wanted him even when she thought he had abandoned her. Her desire for the mischievous boy who became a powerful Bratva King never changed. It was good to know that he felt the same way about her.

Alexei leaned over her, and this time, it was him who took her lips. The kiss was rough and hungry, exactly the way she imagined the way he kissed. When Alexei saw something he wanted, he took it without asking.

She always liked that about him. When he pulled away, she could feel her nipples hardening under the thin fabric of her shirt, and she felt a little wet between the legs. If he decided to take her here and now, well. Natalia didn’t think she’d refused, but Alexei, despite how the city painted him as a savage Pakhan, was a gentleman. To her at least.

“If not that, then what?” She couldn’t help but ask, pleased he was momentarily distracted by her breath.

He grinned all of a sudden, and she knew an idea had finally struck him. “I plan to hire you.”

“I don’t come cheap,” she told him, although privately, she could work with the idea.

Besides, the idea of spending more time with him appealed to her. It could help me understand if the undeniable chemistry between them could mean something more.

Chapter Eight

Alexei had scarcely settled into the leather seat of the limousine before Dimitri muttered, loudly enough to be heard by everyone inside,

"I still don't trust her.” The words hung in the air like smoke.

Alexei didn't even have to look at his younger brother to know exactly where his narrowed eyes were aimed, at Natalia. She sat beside Alexei, hands folded neatly atop the black satin of her evening gown, as though Dimitri hadn't spoken at all.

She had become exceptionally good at pretending insults rolled off her back, and that bothered Alexei more than if she'd snapped back.

"You know," Alexei said dryly, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee, "we can hear you."

Dimitri shrugged without an ounce of remorse. “I’m not exactly hiding it,” his brother said.

Sofia sighed. "Dimitri."

“What, dearest?” Dimitri asked.

“You promised you would behave,” Sofia chided.

"I am behaving."

Sofia gave him the sort of look only wives seemed capable of perfecting. It conveyed exasperation and the promise of sleeping on the sofa all at once. Alexei almost pitied him. Sofia reached over to pat her husband's forearm.

"Remember," she reminded gently, "Natalia has already saved Alexei's life three times."

"I've counted.” Dimitri folded his arms. “However, I’ll never forget that she tried to kill him too."

Natalia finally glanced over. "I missed on purpose. Remember that too?”

Dimitri scoffed. “My opinion remains unchanged.”