Page 41 of Kidnapped Bride

I stepped out onto the bathmat, which quickly became inundated by water dripping off my soaked shirt, and I had no choice but to peel the soggy fabric from my body and stand in front of him naked while reaching for a towel.

We dried off without talking.

Then I changed into a fresh shirt and a pair of his boxers while he pulled on shorts and nothing else, and we climbed into bed on our respective sides with the gap between us that had become routine.

He lay on his right side because his left was too torn up to put weight on, and I lay on my back staring at the ceiling.

It felt cold for a few minutes, long after he switched off the light, and with his back to me, I wasn't sure what was going through his head.

I didn't see the key around his neck tonight, and I couldn’t remember if I'd heard him lock that door or not, but if not, I knew I'd feel horribly guilty forcing him to chase me down the hallway when he was so badly hurt.

So I stayed put, almost dozing off when he spoke.

"You know," he said after a minute, "what you just did in there was dangerously close to what a wife would do for her husband."

"Don't start with me." I yawned and draped an arm over my eyes to block out more light, which after my eyes adjusted to the moon outside felt too bright to sleep through.

"I'm just making an observation."

"Well, observe quietly," I told him. "I'm trying to sleep."

He was quiet for a second, but I heard him breathing hard, like he was trying to fight back some comment. Then he let it out and I groaned audibly, wishing he'd shut up.

"You can't hate me forever, you know?"

"Do you have to talk?" I sat up, smacking the bed between us in an exasperated huff. "I mean, I was nice to you after you forced me to pretend to marry you?—"

"It was real," he growled.

"Keep telling yourself that, Nikolai. But if you wanted a real wedding, you could've sincerely asked me, or dated me… Or hell, I don't know, maybe not catfished me." Tears pricked my eyes, but I pinched them shut and flopped back onto my pillow. "I deserve better than this, and you fucking know it."

Those were the words that shut him up. Finally, he turned to his back, staring up at the ceiling next to me. When his hand foundmine, I grimaced but I didn't pull away. And it made my heart flutter.

"You're right," he said calmly. "You do."

Whether he heard me start crying or not, I would never know.

But those tears burned scars into my soul and I fought them so damn hard, I almost couldn’t breathe.

But his heavy breathing devolved into light snoring, and I turned away from him, not willing to let him get any further into my mind and heart than he already was.

It was the closest he'd come to giving me an apology without saying those words I needed to hear, and I know I'd probably never hear them. From him or my father.

13

NIKOLAI

I sat at my desk with my shirt unbuttoned while Dr. Keller hovered over my left side, prodding at me painfully.

His fingers were cold as he peeled back the bandage and examined the stitches with a penlight. His frown deepened the longer he studied me, which didn't seem like a good thing.

"You've been doing too much," he said, pressing gently around the edges of the wound. I snarled and winced and then glared at Vlad who looked like he was ready to laugh. "The skin is inflamed and the tissue beneath is warm. If this gets infected, you're looking at a hospital stay, and I don't think either of us wants to explain a gunshot wound to an admissions nurse."

"I've been sitting at this desk for five days." It wasn't entirely true. I'd done my normal workouts and a lot of pacing, but I hadn't been on any more hunts with the guys.

Yakov threatened to handcuff me to my desk if I did.

They took Keller's orders last week way too seriously.