Page 79 of Toxic Temptation (Krayev Bratva #1)

VESPER

“Kovan Krayev, I did not squeeze myself into Spanx and four-inch heels for you to stare at your phone all night! Put it down before I throw it out the window.”

Three hours of preparation went into this look—hair, makeup, some absurdly complicated lingerie with way too many hooks and buckles. All so I could sit here and watch my boyfriend text his security team?

Nuh-uh. Not on my watch.

I scowl at him across the candlelit table. Kovan’s eyes flick up from his screen, and I watch his pupils dilate as they trace the low neckline of my strapless dress. The heat in his gaze makes my skin flush, but I’m not letting him off the hook that easily.

“Just checking on Luka,” he says.

“You’ve checked on him four times in the last half-hour.” I count off on my fingers. “Once with Waylen. Twice with Osip. And now, you’re texting… who exactly?”

“Pavel. He’s running perimeter security tonight.”

My eyes bug out. “For what, a nuclear launch? We’re at dinner, Kovan. In a restaurant. With other human beings, eating food and having normal conversations. We don’t need an army guarding every exit.”

He sets his phone face-down on the white tablecloth, but his fingers drum against the surface. Restless energy radiates off him in waves.

“I’m being careful.”

“You’re being insane,” I correct. “The custody hearing was a week ago. You won. Luka is safe. Yana is in jail. Can we please just have one normal evening?”

“Normal doesn’t exist in my world, Vesper. You know that.”

“Then maybe we need to expand your world.”

Kovan’s jaw tightens. “Ihor isn’t going to just accept defeat and disappear. He won’t forgive and forget. He will plan. He will wait. He will strike when we’re not expecting it.”

I reach across the table and cover his hand with mine.

His skin is warm, but his muscles are coiled tight.

“You’ve taken every precaution. Osip, Pavel, and Waylen are all working to keep us safe.

Your house has more security than Fort Knox.

What exactly do you think is going to happen between now and dessert? ”

“I don’t know. That’s the problem.” He turns his hand palm-up, threading our fingers together. “The unknown variables are what keep me awake at night.”

“Well, they’re keeping me awake, too. Because you’ve been pacing the bedroom like a caged tiger ever since the hearing.”

His mouth quirks up at one corner. “I pace?”

“Do you pace?” I laugh in his face. “Yes, you pace. You check locks. You stare out of windows. Even when you are lying down, you’re tossing and turning and muttering in your sleep.”

“Security is?—”

“Security is important. Yes, I get it. But so is living your life.” I fix him with a stern look. “So is letting Luka live his life, too. That boy spent almost nine years walking on eggshells around his mother. Do you really want him to feel the same way around you?”

My words have their intended effect. I can see it in the way Kovan’s shoulders drop, the way his grip on my hand loosens.

“Fuck. I’ve been suffocating him, haven’t I?”

“Not suffocating. Protecting. But there’s a fine line between the two.” I squeeze his fingers. “Luka needs normalcy, Kovan. He needs to go to the movies and play in parks and eat ice cream that drips on his shirt. He needs to be a kid.”

“After I deal with Ihor?—”

“When will that be? Next week? Next month? Next year?” I shake my head. “You can’t put your entire life on hold waiting for a threat that might never come.”

Kovan stares at me for a long moment, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his head. Finally, he picks up his glass of whiskey and drains it in one swallow.

“You’re right.” He signals the waiter for another drink. “Tonight is about us. No phones. No security updates. No business.”

“Really?”

“Really really,” he teases, stealing the call-and-response I do with Luka. He slides his chair closer to mine until our knees touch under the table. “Besides, I haven’t properly appreciated you in this dress yet.”

Desire skitters over my skin as his eyes rake over me with obvious appreciation. That look of his never fails to make my heart race.

“It’s new,” I say shyly.

“I noticed.” His hand snakes beneath the hip-high slit and settles on my bare thigh. “I also noticed you’re not wearing a bra.”

I purse my lips. “That would ruin the lines.”

“Mm. And what about underneath?”

My cheeks burn, but I hold his gaze. “Why don’t you find out?”

Without looking away, he inches higher. His fingers trace the edge of my panties, barely touching but enough to make me squirm in my seat.

“Right here?” he asks. “In front of all these nice people?”

“They’re not paying attention to us.”

“They will be if you keep making those sexy little sounds.”

I clamp my mouth shut, suddenly aware that I’ve been letting out soft gasps every time he touches me. Around us, the restaurant continues its quiet hum of conversation and clinking glasses, but all I can focus on is the pressure of Kovan’s hand and the wicked gleam in his eyes.

“You’re beautiful when you’re trying not to come apart,” he whispers.

“Kovan…”

“Tell me what you want.”

“You, obviously. I want you.” I glance around, then back at him. “Right now.”

He slides one finger under the lace, barely grazing where I need him most. “Here?”

“I don’t care where. I just… I need…”

“I know what you need.” He withdraws his hand, leaving me aching and empty. “Let’s go home.”

“No.” I catch his wrist before he can pull away completely. “I mean yes, home, but first…”

“First what?”

I glance around the restaurant again and find what I’m looking for. “Bathroom. Now.”

Kovan’s eyes darken to forest green. “Vesper?—”

“Please.” I’m already standing and smoothing down my dress with quivering hands. “I can’t wait until we get home. I’m literally shaking.”

He’s on his feet a second later, tossing bills onto the table without counting them. His hand finds the small of my back, guiding me through the maze of tables toward the back of the restaurant.

The women’s restroom is empty, thank God. I pity what Kovan would do if some unfortunate soul was in here trying to pee. He follows me inside, then slides the lock in place with a decisive click.

“This is crazy,” I breathe. All the bravado of two seconds ago has abandoned me.

“You started it.” He backs me against the vanity, hands bracketing my hips. “Having second thoughts?”

“Never.”

He lifts me onto the counter in one smooth motion, then steps between my parted thighs. My dress rides up. I don’t bother pulling it down.

“You kill me when you look like this,” he growls against my throat. “Absolute devastation.”

“Good. I want to ruin you for other women.”

“You already have.”

His mouth finds mine. I thread my fingers through his hair, holding him close as he devours me with lips and teeth and tongue. This is what I’ve been craving all week—this connection, this fire between us that makes everything else fade away.

When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He goes very still. “What?”

“I love you.” The confession is terrifying and liberating at the same time.

“I know we haven’t talked about it, and I know this probably isn’t the right time or place, but I just needed you to know.

You don’t have to say it back or anything.

I definitely don’t expect you to, and I’m not trying to force you into a?—”

“Shut up.” Kovan cups my face in his hands. “Say it again.”

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “I love you, Kovan Krayev. All of you. The good, the bad, and the completely insane overprotective parts. I’ve loved you for a long time, I think.

And in the interest of full disclosure, yes, I did try to fight it.

As long and as hard as I could. But it didn’t work. Not ever. Not at all.”

His eyes gleam like emeralds. “I love you, too, Vesper Fairfax. More than I thought possible. More than is probably safe for either of us.”

“Well, lucky for me, I don’t want safe. I want you .”

He kisses me again, softer this time. When someone knocks on the bathroom door, we spring apart like guilty teenagers.

“Okay, maybe you were right the first time. We should go,” I whisper. “Somewhere we can do this properly.”

“Home?”

“Home.”

The drive back to Kovan’s house is charged with anticipation. I keep my hands to myself this time, but it’s so hard when the tension between us is this palpable. We don’t talk—words feel unnecessary when the air itself is humming with want.

Every so often, Kovan glances over at me, and the heat in his gaze makes my stomach flutter.

We’re five minutes from home when I see her. “Kovan, stop.”

“What?”

“Stop the car. There’s someone?—”

A woman stumbles into our headlights, blood matting her dark hair. She’s clutching something to her chest, moving with the desperate, unsteady gait of someone in shock. Kovan slams on the brakes and we come screeching to a halt just a few feet shy of smearing her across the bumper.

“Oh my God.” I’m reaching for the door handle before Kovan can respond. “She’s hurt. And she has a baby?—”

“Don’t.” Kovan’s voice cuts through my panic. “Vesper, don’t get out of the car.”

“What? Why? She needs help.”

“Look around. Do you see a crashed car? Any other vehicles?”

I scan the empty street, confusion mixing with my adrenaline. He’s right. There’s nothing here except us and the woman. But still…

“That doesn’t matter. She’s bleeding, and there’s a child?—”

“It’s a trap.” Kovan’s hand closes around my wrist. “This is exactly what I was worried about. What I’ve been trying to protect you from.”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“I’m being smart. Please, Vesper. Trust me on this.”

But I can’t. Every instinct I have as a doctor is screaming at me to help. This is what I was trained for, what I’ve dedicated my life to. I can’t just sit here and watch someone suffer.

I pull free of Kovan’s grip and throw open the door.

“Vesper, no!”

I’m already running toward the woman, my heels ringing out harsh and staccato against the asphalt. Behind me, I hear Kovan curse and the slam of his car door.

“It’s okay,” I call to the woman. “I’m a doctor. Let me help you.”

She looks up at me with wild, desperate eyes. Blood trickles from a cut on her forehead, and her clothes are torn and dirty.

“Please,” she gasps. “My baby…”

I reach for her. This is what matters. This is what I do. Save lives. Help people. Make a difference.

The woman shifts the bundled blanket in her arms, and I catch a glimpse of… fabric?

Not skin.

Not a baby.

Just fabric wrapped around something hard and metallic.

Understanding hits me a split second before she raises the gun.

She looks at me down the barrel and sighs. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “This is going to hurt.”