Page 8 of Forced Bratva Hostage (Dubrov Bratva #15)

The stupid car wouldn’t jumpstart; it turns out it’s not as easy as they make it look in the movies. I tried so many different wires against each other, and none of them did a damn thing.

It wouldn’t have worked, anyway. Even if I got that car started, the front gate is so heavily guarded that I wouldn’t have made it past without being stopped.

When I ran out the back and saw the wall, my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. Immediately, I knew it was a terrible idea, but I’m too stubborn to turn down any chance to get away from this guy, and it’s obvious I’m out of options.

So, here I am, maybe halfway up the wall, but too scared to look down to check my progress.

I thought this would be easier, but my fingers are aching as I grip against the little rocky pieces, and my nails are longer than they should be, and my arm and leg muscles are shaking so much I’m wondering how I made it this far in life without going to the gym.

One wrong move and I might die.

I close my eyes for a second and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I made it this far—the top is about two meters away—I can do this.

I adjust my foot, pressing it harder against the stone, and lift my hand to reach for a higher rock.

“How’s it going?”

The voice comes out of nowhere, and I scream in fright. My focus is so single-minded, and I’m so tense, that I’d forgotten to keep an eye out for guards.

The fright throws me off balance. My foot slips, my knees bash into the stone, and suddenly I’m falling. I let out a loud, terrified scream, every cell in my body certain that I’m about to die, plummeting towards the ground beneath me.

But instead of hitting something hard like I expect to, I land on something soft.

The thing that I land on huffs loudly as though I’ve knocked the wind out of him. Arms immediately wrap around me, and before I can figure out a way to escape my new predicament, he rolls me over so that I’m on my back, staring up at him, pinned beneath his muscular body.

“Get off me,” I squeal in horror.

He chuckles in amusement, and it makes me pause.

“What’s so funny?” I huff, looking into Andrei’s eyes.

The moment my eyes lock with his, my entire body responds.

My pulse quickens, my heart beating so fast I am convinced he can feel it pounding against his chest. My blood runs hotter, and my breath gets heavy.

Desire floods me.

His green eyes are bright and magnetic. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to make myself look away.

“Did you really think you could climb that wall?” he muses, his deep voice rumbling against me.

My lips part as the scent of him becomes all I can focus on.

He moves against me.

But then pain shoots through my legs, and I cry out.

Andrei quickly shifts off me, and his face darkens with worry.

“What happened?” he asks.

“My knees,” I complain, trying to stand up. There is blood seeping through my jeans. Not a lot, but enough to confirm that I’ve done damage.

Before I can get to my feet, Andrei scoops me into his arms and holds me cradled against him as he carries me inside.

“Put me down. I can walk,” I complain, my cheeks flushing pink.

I am so embarrassed about the effect he has on me. I hate the fact that he’s so gorgeous, and my body screams for his attention.

We walk past guards and housekeepers, and my cheeks get hotter and redder as they stare with curiosity.

“Put me down,” I squeal again as he climbs the stairs towards my bedroom.

“Will you be quiet? I’m trying to help you,” he snaps.

“No, I don’t want your help.”

Andrei puts me down when we reach my bathroom, setting me on the countertop.

I move to jump off, and he immediately grabs my waist and pushes me further back.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls darkly.

I freeze, taken aback by his dominance. For a moment, I can’t move or find my voice, so I sit like a reprimanded child while he leans down to look at my knees.

He lets out a low snarl.

“You hurt yourself badly, Tatiana,” he says angrily. “Why did you think you could climb that wall? Do you want to kill yourself?”

“No, I want to escape you. And I can climb that wall. The only reason I didn’t make it to the top is because you came along and gave me a fright.”

He shakes his head, his eyes lifting from my knees to my face.

“You think you’d be at the top by now if I hadn’t interrupted?” he asks with his eyes narrowed.

“Yes, actually. I would not only be at the top, but down the other side and on my way home,” I snap.

“I see. So, you’ve obviously disabled the electric fencing running along the top of the wall?”

I open my mouth to snap back at him, but quickly shut it again.

Huffing loudly, I try again to get off the countertop.

Andrei grabs my thighs and glares at me. “I am going to clean your wounds and bandage them. You are going to sit still while I do it.”

The way he speaks to me sends a shiver of delight shooting through my body.

I nod weakly. “Okay,” I whisper, even though what I really want to do is tell him to jump in a lake.

“Take your pants off,” he demands.

My body spikes like a fever. “No,” I squeal.

“Yes. Take them off.”

He lifts me off the counter and stands me next to him.

When I don’t do as he says, he tugs me close and grabs the button of my jeans, undoing it.

I slap his hand away.

“Stop that. I’ll do it.” My cheeks are on fire.

I might be mistaken, but I swear I see a flash of amusement in his eyes.

With an angry breath of air, I wiggle out of my jeans and kick them away from my feet. Andrei picks them up and throws them over the edge of the bath.

“I’m not sure the blood stains will come out,” he says, talking to himself more than me. His eyes move from the discarded jeans to my legs.

I have never been this embarrassed in my life. The black lace G-string I’m wearing barely covers anything at all. I don’t know what to do with myself, so I stand like a fool doing nothing at all.

To my horror, Andrei wraps his hands around my waist and lifts me onto the counter again. He sits on the edge of the toilet as he rummages through the first aid kit he pulled from the sink cupboard.

His eyes drift to the small butterfly tattoo high up on my inner thigh, and I quickly cover it with my hands. He says nothing.

I got the tattoo in a secret place to hide it from my brother, but he found out anyway when someone from the tattoo shop ratted me out after he sent his guards to find out where I’d been that afternoon and they tracked my steps back there.

Nothing gets past my brother. Not even my little tattoo.

He punished me by locking me in my room for a week—actually, now that I think of it, that was when I learned how to pick locks.

Andrei is busy in front of me.

I can’t stop fidgeting while he pours disinfectant onto white gauze. It smells of alcohol.

“Wait,” I stammer, trying to prepare myself for the inevitable sting.

He places his hand softly on my leg. “It’s okay, it’s only going to hurt for a few seconds,” he says, his voice calm and soothing now; the commanding tone is gone, and he’s being nothing but gentle with me.

“I have to do this, Tatiana, or it might get infected.”

I nod, biting my lower lip. “Okay, I’m ready.”

The moment the gauze touches my skin, I let out a sharp cry.

He rubs his hand up and down my thigh, his touch soothing and distracting me as he wipes away the blood and cleans the injuries on both of my knees.

“Now I’ll bandage them, then you’re done. Are you okay?” he asks, looking at me.

My heart flickers, my eyes tracing over his chiseled jaw and dark blonde stubble.

It’s a shade darker than his hair. His lips look soft and warm.

From here, I can see down his shirt as he works.

The dark tattoo that spreads over his neck goes right over his shoulder, and I’m dying to know how far down it reaches.

It looks like some kind of sea dragon. Fierce and dangerous.

“Tatiana?”

“What?” I snap, annoyed with myself again. What is wrong with me? Perving the asshole who kidnapped me is not the way to escape.

“I asked you if you were okay?” he says calmly.

“I’m fine. Can we hurry this whole thing up, please ?” I practically beg. I want to put clothes on. I want the distance between us. I want to get as far away from him as possible before I do something really stupid.

He shakes his head, returning his attention to my knees.

“Have you got somewhere you need to be?” he chuckles.

“Anywhere but here,” I sigh.

“You don’t like being half naked with a man sitting between your legs?” his voice is teasingly suggestive, and his eyes are touched with mischief when he glances quickly up at me.

Now my heart is racing again. The beat of it in my ears is like drumming. This is terrible . Why does he have this effect on me?

I lean down to grab the bandage from his hand, but he moves faster than I, pulling it away.

“I like to be the one in control, little bunny,” he grins. “Now sit still and behave.”

My mouth drops open as I stare in disbelief while he carefully places each bandage, sticking them down and smoothing the corners to make sure they are secure.

“Done,” he says, brushing his thumb over my knee to check his work.

In a rush to get away from this embarrassment, I don’t wait for him to stand up before I push off the counter.

The problem is that I land right in front of him, between his spread legs.

I lose my balance and Andrei immediately lifts his arms to grab me, his hands half on my ass, half on my hips.

He pulls me forward to stop me from falling over, and instead, I fall towards his body and land against him with my arms around his neck.

Our lips are inches apart, and I don’t make a sound as I stare into his eyes.

Slowly, his lips curl into a smile.

“If you keep falling on me like this, I’m going to start thinking you’re doing it on purpose,” he says, deep and quiet.

My heart beats faster, and heat builds between my legs. Slowly, he brushes his hands over my ass and down the backs of my thighs.

My lips part as I breathe in.

His breath is hot against my mouth, and if I leaned just an inch closer, I could kiss him.

Oh my fuck, what the fuck?

I push away from him and step back, my ass bumping the counter. I walk around it, facing him, not daring to look away, until I reach where my jeans are lying over the edge of the bath.

Snatching them up, I hold them in front of my body like a shield I can hide behind.

“Get out,” I snap.

Andrei stands up, taking his time.

“Get out of my room,” I demand again, my voice getting higher-pitched as my panic heightens.

“I’m going,” he says, lifting his hands in the air in defense.

I follow him out of the bathroom, through my bedroom and towards the open door. My mind is playing tricks on me as my eyes roam over his ass and up his back, his muscles pressing against his shirt, across his broad shoulders—he’s absolutely perfect.

He glances over his shoulder at me, and I shoot him a sour expression.

Andrei steps into the passage and turns to say something to me, but before he has a chance, I slam the door in his face, making sure it’s really loud so that he knows how angry I am with him.

The jeans drop to the floor next to me, and I lean my back against the closed door, groaning loudly. I’m dying of embarrassment. I’ve never been that exposed in front of a man before—never mind one that gorgeous.

I don’t think I can ever live this down.

Turning to face the door, I press my ear against it, listening for the sound of his footsteps.

He stands there for a while, and I begin to wonder if he left and I just didn’t hear it.

But then the sound of a frustrated sigh and his loud footsteps let me know he’s leaving.

Why did he stay for so long?

And why is he sighing like that? I’m the prisoner here—he has nothing to be complaining about.

I kick the jeans lying on the floor, angry at myself for the way I react to him, more than anything else. I’ll need to find a way out of here as soon as possible.

That wall was a risky move, and it turns out it would have been a waste of time in the end. Maybe I should try the car again.

Maybe I need to go about this a different way. All I’m doing at this point is annoying the guy; nothing I’m doing is getting me closer to escaping.

A small, mischievous smile creeps onto my face.

Actually, that’s exactly what I need to be doing.

I need to annoy him.

Everything I do should be geared towards making his life difficult, pissing him off, and pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Since I arrived at the mansion, he’s had endless patience, but everyone has a limit—and I’m going to figure out what his limit is.