Page 38

Later, after everyone left and Brady headed to bed, I lowered my guard to let Nikolai fulfill what Brady wanted.

“Can you read me a bedtime story?” he asked after I’d helped him with a bath.

He wasn’t asking me. He directed his plea to Nikolai.

“Oh, I’m sure Mr. Volkov is busy,” I said to take the pressure off him.

“No.” He moved toward Brady’s bedroom. “No, it’s all right. Um. What story?” He passed me in the hallway, pausing to lower his gaze at me with a hint of heat that I couldn’t help but want to swoon at.

Brady pointed out the book then climbed into bed.

“Are you sure?” I asked him as I lingered at the door.

“I’m sure.” Nikolai picked up the book and sat on the edge of the bed.

He can’t be this perfect. He can’t be. There’s no such thing as perfect.

Yet, he urged me to reconsider that. As he sat there and read, this big, strong Mafia man being so gentle with my son, I wondered if this bond that they were developing was something that he wanted. Something that was making him feel more complete.

I waited just outside his bedroom, tidying up the mess from the attached bathroom where he’d had his bath. Hearing the husky, deep baritone of his voice as he read almost made me smile, but it wasn’t long before he stopped.

As was our routine, I exited the bathroom, done with cleaning it up. It never took me long, but instead of being the one to read to Brady about a magician looking for a key to get out of a maze, Nikolai had read to him.

He exited the bedroom just as I stepped out of the bathroom. We met in the hall with him closing Brady’s door. It hadn’t been easy at first, but Paloma was persistent in having me use my own guest room, next to Brady’s. Nikolai had taken up residence down the hall.

“He was tired.”

“Yeah. I bet it’s got something to do with that basketball hoop suddenly showing up.”

He lowered his head and smiled as he met me in the hallway. Hands in his pockets, he almost looked relaxed. At home. At peace. But when he lifted his gaze and peered at me, I wanted to know how to explain that he didn’t have to be so aloof. So alone.

“He’s athletic.”

I laughed. “He doesn’t get it from me.”

As if on cue, he slid his gaze over me. Pure curiosity and appreciation lit up his eyes. It sparked a flare of desire in me, too.

“I don’t know. I think you’re probably stronger and more… flexible than you might realize.”

Flexible? I tried not to let my mind drift to how he could be interpreting that. With me bent over so he could fuck me from behind, or while I balanced on his lap and rode him?

He reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear. The rough tips of his fingers caressed my cheek as he felt my face in his hand. “You’re blushing.”

I cleared my throat, too shy to make eye contact. “Thanks for reading to him.”

He tipped my chin up as he got in my space, stepping forward again. It forced me to crane my neck to peer up at him. “I was surprised he asked for me to read to him.”

“Why? He might be confused about why we’re having a so-called vacation here, but he’s already well on his way to being attached to you.” I cleared my throat, wondering if I was damning myself with these thoughts. “He likes you. And your family.”

He slid his hand along my jaw, moving his firm grip so he’d cradle the back of my head. “It’s starting to feel natural coming home to you both being here.” He licked his lip, staring at mine. “This isn’t my home, but knowing you and Brady are here is distorting my perception of what’s supposed to be normal anymore.”

I shook my head without leaving his touch. “Nothing’s normal anymore.”

Especially the way I wished he would want me.

“It’ll be harder to coax him to leave when this vacation will inevitably end.”

He dipped his head lower, mesmerizing me with the smoldering gaze he blasted me with. Stroking his thumb over my cheek, he gave me the impression that he couldn’t bear to not touch me.