Page 23 of The Bratva’s Arranged Virgin Bride (Fokin Bratva #8)

I woke up in a bad mood, just about as bad as when I fell into a fitful sleep after getting zero out of Kolya. He was hiding something, and in the cold light of day, I realized I probably could have been more successful if I’d gone along with his very obvious plan of seduction.

But I wanted to get back to our lusty embrace just as much or more than he did, and I knew exactly how easily he could distract me. I wouldn’t have gotten the information I wanted, and I would be waking up in his bed instead of mine.

Just the fact that I couldn’t come up with a reason why that was such a bad thing made my mood even worse. Until I looked out my window.

Even though I stormed off like a shrew and locked myself in the guest room, Kolya was true to his word. A cute silver car sat in the driveway, decked out in a giant blue bow. Squealing, I threw on some clothes and hurried downstairs, more excited than when I got my first car for my sweet sixteen.

Now, I could get down to business.

Kolya waited at the bottom of the stairs, probably hearing my shout of delight. Not pretending at all, I threw myself into his arms. “Thank you, thank you,” I said into his warm neck, smelling like he’d just stepped out of the shower.

Laughing, he slid me down his hard body, his dark eyes alight with happiness over my display. “I’m the one who’s grateful,” he said. “For the invitation to your family’s home.”

All of a sudden, his happiness made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I froze in his arms, shoving away as I glared at him. “If you mean to harm them in some way through our arrangement, I swear I will find a way to kill you.”

He laughed. “Isn’t that what you had planned all along?”

I froze. He was teasing, but it was too close to the truth for comfort. “I never wanted you dead,” I said. Mostly not a lie. Oh, I liked imagining standing over his bloody body with a stick in my hand, but it was the destruction of his heart and soul that I really wanted.

I wanted him to survive so he could suffer for the rest of his miserable life. Feeling like I might actually look too bloodthirsty, I quickly reiterated that I didn’t want him dead.

Kolya held up his hands. “And I have no interest in harming your family. I want us aligned.”

I believed him, but there was something more to it, I was sure. I was also sure he was telling the truth that the dinner with my cousins would go without bloodshed.

“So, can I get a ride in your new car?” he asked.

I was itching to take it for a spin, as well as dying to get out of the house, so I readily agreed. We took off on the Pacific Coast Highway, my foot on the gas and the radio blaring.

After a few minutes of just random driving, he turned the music down. “If I knew what a speed demon you were, I would have gotten you something more sporty.”

It was true my little sedan wasn’t exactly breaking any records, or even the speed limit, but I told him it was perfect. And it was. Nondescript, easy to blend in with all the other cars on the road when I needed it to.

We drove up north and ended up in Santa Barbara. Shockingly, he said he’d never been there yet, so I headed toward some of the touristy destinations to show off. We drove past the old mission, but neither one of us was in the mood to wander the grounds or visit the museum.

“Shopping?” I asked.

“Definitely,” he said. “I’ve been waiting to spoil you.”

“You better not. I have a feeling that book costs enough to cover ten birthdays and Christmases.”

He only laughed, and I headed to the State Street Underpass, not a glamorous name, but so many shops that it could keep us busy for days.

When we got out of the car, he looked me over in my white jeans and beige top.

I wasn’t really the flashy type, preferring to keep my clothes simple, and for the first time, wondered if I should invest in some more eye-catching clothes.

Not that I was having much trouble catching his eye at the moment.

“What?” I said, smoothing my t-shirt.

“Just feasting my eyes,” he said wolfishly. He stepped around to stand right in front of me, smoothing his palms up my arms. Holding out my wrist, he said. “A bracelet for this one.” Pulling my hand to his mouth, he kissed my knuckles. “Rings for every finger.”

I tugged out of his grasp before I found myself making out with him in the crowded parking area. “I don’t need any of that.”

“You do need a wedding ring,” he said.

“Certainly not. It wasn’t part of the deal.”

He tugged me closer. “It’s part of my deal.”

Rolling my eyes, I led him toward the shops. Of course, one of the first ones would have to be a jewelry store, the display windows glistening with diamonds and colored gems.

“Here we go,” he said.

“No, there we go,” I told him, already crossing the street to the darling little stationery shop. “Look at those sketchbooks.”

I paused to drool at the linen-covered books, bright as the jewels in the window across the street. Kolya caught up to me.

“As far as I know, you don’t have a single piece of jewelry, but your studio is stacked with sketchbooks.”

I shook my head, tutting at him. “Didn’t you know that you can never have enough? It’s a rule.”

“Well, I’m big on following rules,” he said, heading into the shop.

Cracking up, I followed, feeling buoyant and carefree. I had a car, was about to get a shopping bag full of pretty sketchbooks—maybe I’d even let Kolya have some fun and buy me a necklace.

Laden down after just one shop, we meandered along the row, pausing at almost every window, going in when something caught our eyes.

It surprised me that Kolya wanted to look at some fishing lures.

I never knew he took part in such a chill and slow-paced hobby.

He was the complete opposite of chill and slow-paced.

He sheepishly admitted he hadn’t yet, but wanted to one day, now that he lived in a place where the weather was always nice and there was water all around. We discussed Russia. He didn’t miss it at all, and I had only visited during the summers in my childhood.

We carefully avoided the topic of Italy, though he did ask me what I planned to do now that I had completed my studies.

“Be a perfect wife,” I said, batting my eyelashes at him.

He guffawed loud enough to turn heads in the small café we were resting in. “Perhaps more studies are in order.”

I swiped at him, but laughed. He was clearly teasing, and we both ignored the fact that this was an arrangement, a business deal, nothing more. But it kind of felt like more just then. And I didn’t hate it.

I didn’t hate him .

Then we moved on, and soon, Kolya pulled me into a small art gallery.

We’d passed several already, and normally, I was eager to check out all sorts of new art, but I’d been studiously ignoring them.

Once inside, I knew why. Memories lashed at me.

Maybe him, too, because we both stopped chatting and laughing, going inward.

It was too much like the little slice of heaven I had created for myself in Milan. So much hard work, so much love and care put into it. Gone.

I also remembered the good times we had, not unlike these, but of course, so much different.

We hadn’t been married then, arranged or not.

I thought I was falling for him. They weren’t just good times, they were the best of my life, and they’d led up to the worst. The feeling of having everything stolen from me was hard to get past, no matter how charming and generous Kolya was now.

How long would it last this time around?

Pushing my own memories aside, I was curious about what had him clamming up. He remained reticent even after we left the gallery and began walking back to my car.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

He took my hand, twining our fingers together. “I’m just nervous about dinner with your family tomorrow.”

That was a lie. Kolya didn’t get nervous. I couldn’t call him out on it, not without getting into a fight I didn’t want to have.

On the drive back, we were able to get things back to a lighter note, but something hung between us. My memories and whatever he wasn’t sharing. I now had the means to find out.

By the time we got back to the beach house, I was determined to eradicate the strange tension neither of us wanted to admit was still heavy in the air since leaving the gallery. At the very least, we’d need to present a united front for my cousins the next day.

“Why don’t you go on up and get a shower?” he suggested, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “I’ll make my famous sandwiches.”

I smiled brightly, tipping my chin up for a kiss on the lips. He obliged, giving me a gentle nudge toward the stairs afterward.

“Don’t forget bacon,” I called as I headed up. “If you’re lucky, I’ll make chocolate chip cookies for dessert. They’re my specialty.” They were the only thing I could make.

His laughter rang out to me, and I was sure we had gotten rid of the strange specter. My feelings were under control, no longer worked up by memories of what I lost. He seemed to have pushed aside whatever had been bothering him.

After my shower, I put on a light sundress and the new necklace with a tiny jade pendant I’d let him buy me, and skipped down the stairs.

I expected the smell of frying bacon and grilled chicken to meet me, but there was nothing but the slightly salty breeze off the ocean from the open windows leading out to the deck.

Kolya wasn’t in the kitchen, and it didn’t look like he’d gone in there at all. Running through the house, I searched for him, thinking he might have wanted a shower before he started cooking. He wasn’t in his bathroom, or out on the beach, or anywhere else.

He just left without a word, probably planning it all along, getting me in the shower so he’d have time to slip away. Which meant he suspected I’d be following him as soon as I got the chance.

He wasn’t giving me the chance. Once again, he had the upper hand, always thinking ahead.