Chapter 19

Marlena’sshort black hair is spiked up around her head when she wanders into the kitchen. The silk pajama shorts ride low on her hips, exposing her middle when she raises her right hand to wipe the sleep from her eyes.

“How long have you been awake?” she questions, shuffling to the coffeemaker. I keep my eyes on her ass as she walks. Beneath the smooth material I can make out every move her body makes.

It’s too intoxicating for so early in the morning.

“An hour.” I leave my empty cup of coffee on the table to help her with the machine. It’s a single use contraption that Mrs. Ivankova suggested, only with more bells and whistles than the model she requested.

“You could have woken me.” She drops the coffee pod into my palm and slides over. Catching her reflection in the refrigerator, she gasps and combs her fingers through her hair.

“You don’t work until this afternoon, and you need rest.”

She quickly tames the unruly tresses and tucks her hair behind her ears. “It’s easy to do in that bed. It’s like sleeping on clouds.” She folds her arms over her chest and leans her hip against the counter.

Leaning down, I kiss her. A quick brush of my lips across hers.

She touches her mouth. “What was that for?”

“I wanted to.” I hand her the freshly brewed coffee. “The sugar bowl is on the table with the cream.”

She lowers her eyes and takes her coffee to the table.

“How is your head?” I grab a plate from the cupboard, fill it with scrambled eggs and sausage from the pots on the warmers, and place it in front of her.

She looks down at the food and grins. “She used chives.”

“You liked them the other day. I asked her to use them from now on when you’re here,” I say, taking the seat across from her.

“You don’t have to do that.” She digs in. “Don’t change stuff around here for me.”

I fold my arms over my chest, leaning back in the chair, enjoying her smile as she eats her breakfast. If it will bring such brightness to her, I’d turn my world upside down.

Never in my thirty-one years have I worried so much about making one person happy as I do this woman.

I’m not talking about fucking. No woman has ever left my bed unsatisfied. This goes beyond the physical.

In my line of work, I’m not exactly spreading around happiness and cheer. No one’s looking to me for anything more than a way to make big money or for me to end their miserable existence faster.

Marlena wants nothing from me, but I’d give her everything in a heartbeat.

When she smiles, the dark shadows following me fade away.

I want to be the reason for those moments of joy.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks after gulping down the last of her coffee. She’s already polished off her breakfast.

“Like what?” Can she see that I’d like to drag her to the nearest chapel and marry her right this minute? Or that I’d like to tie her to my bed and fuck her until her belly swells with my child?

Are my intentions so easy to read?

No, if she could see those thoughts dancing in my head, she’d be running for the door, not peering up at me with those pretty crystal blue eyes of hers.

“Like you did last night when we got home from the club.” She picks up her plate and cup, carrying both to the sink. “Which is why I slept so late; you kept me up past midnight.” She heads to the door.

“Where are you going?” I ask, ideas for what to do with her before she goes to work already blooming in my mind.

“To get dressed.”

I shake my head. “Not yet.” I cross the kitchen, snagging her hand and pulling her along with me.

“Viktor, where are we going?” She shuffles behind me in the slippers I had delivered along with the other clothes that are hanging up in our room. She won’t take them back to her apartment; she’ll only wear the things the personal shopper brought for her while she’s here.

It’s another argument we’ll have another day.

I’m not in the mood for that now.

Right now, I want something lighter.

Something fun.

“You haven’t seen this part of the condo yet.” I lead her to a side door.

As soon as we step into the hallway, she inhales sharply.

“Is that chlorine?”

We come to another door, and I push it open, letting her walk in ahead of me.

“A pool?” Her voice echoes in the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows cover one wall overlooking the city below, and the ceilings are high enough for her voice to dance along them.

A perk of owning the entire top floor of the building—every corner is for my viewing pleasure of the city.

I peel off my collared shirt and toss it onto one of pool chairs.

“I can’t believe you have a pool in your condo.” She holds onto the ladder and dips a toe in the water. “It’s heated!”

“Of course it is.” I reach for her, pulling her to me and reaching for the hem of her shirt.

“I don’t have a suit.” She looks up at me. Before bed last night, she washed away all traces of makeup and has left only her natural beauty. Her dark lashes brush against her creamy skin when she blinks, and her eyes are softer without the black eyeliner to bring out their vibrance.

“You don’t need one,” I assure her.

She’s almost breathless as my fingertips skim across her soft skin while I pull her top up and over her head.

“None of that.” I shove her hands away when she goes to cover her breasts. The room is heated, but her nipples tighten as soon as the air brushes against them. “I love your breasts.” I cup both, flicking my thumb over the pert buds.

Her throat works and she licks her lips.

I move my hands down to the pajama bottoms and push them down over her hips, letting them fall to her feet.

“They’ll get wet,” she argues, trying to pick them up.

“Don’t care.” I shove out of my trousers and boxers, tossing them next to her pajamas.

“You’re going to ruin your suit pants.”

I lift her chin with a single finger, my mouth hovers over hers.

“I don’t care.” I crush her mouth with mine until her hands are on my chest, moving up to my neck. Only when I feel the vibrations of a soft moan against my mouth do I release her.

I jump into the pool and walk to the edge where she’s standing. We’re at the shallow end so the water comes up to my waist.

“Come in.” I hold out my hand.

“Don’t you have meetings or something?” She uses the ladder. Her sweet ass wiggles as she climbs down into the warm pool.

“Canceled them.” I walk backward toward the deeper part of the pool as she follows me. Once the water is up to her chest, I stop and swim around her.

“You canceled your meetings? For me?” She floats on her back, lazily swimming beside me.

“You’re working this afternoon, so I pushed everything back. I can meet with criminals after I drop you off just as easily.” I grin as she swims up to me, her dark hair swirling in the water around her head like a devil’s halo.

“You really need to stop doing things like that, Viktor.” She rolls to her stomach and swims ahead of me.

“Never,” I vow.

She turns over again. The sun hits her arm as she lifts it over her head, and I see it.

It’s small, but it’s damn clear what it is.

I swim to her.

“Marlena.” I gently wrap my hand around her arm. She puts her feet to the floor of the pool to steady herself. The water is almost at her chin in this depth.

“What is this?” I pull her arm closer and inspect the injury. It’s old; the scar is white and puckered. As I inspect her body more closely in the sunlight, I see more scars on her arms, and several behind her shoulder.

How the fuck had I missed these?

“What happened?” I demand.

She pulls away from me.

“It was a long time ago.” She tries to swim away, but I grab hold of her and pull her back. I wipe her dripping wet hair from her face.

“What happened?” I ask again, firmer this time. If she’s not willing to tell me, then my imagination is going to create a scenario much worse than the truth might be.

She lets out a little breath.

“My father lost his temper sometimes.” As though that tells me everything.

“And?” I press when she doesn’t continue. “What happened this particular time?”

“We’re having fun, Viktor, don’t ruin it.”

“I won’t. Tell me what happened.”

Droplets of water run down her face, dripping from her chin back into the pool.

“Fine. Then we’ll drop it, yes?”

“I’ll consider it.”

She rolls her eyes, and I let her get away with it because I’m planning on being an insistent ass about this.

She’s marked up like she’s been cut a dozen times, and until I know how the fuck that happened, we won’t be having any fun.

“His friends were over, and they were watching the baseball game. His team lost and I guess he had money riding on it because he got really mad about it. His friends left and he told me to clean up the mess they’d left in the living room. Empty beer bottles and stuff. He’d had too much to drink.”

She looks away for a second. “I should have known to keep my mouth shut, but I didn’t.”

I’m regretting more than ever that this man isn’t alive. “What did he do?”

“I don’t remember what he said, but I muttered that it wasn’t my fault that he lost and not to take it out on me. Or something like that. It made it worse.”

“Marlena. How did you get all these cuts?” I trail my fingertip over a long one on her shoulder.

“He backhanded me pretty hard. I fell through the coffee table.” Tears shine in her eyes with the memory, but she blinks them away and looks up at the ceiling before they can fall.

“Fucking bastard.” I want to rip him from his grave so I can pummel him to hell.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” She tries to laugh. “If I hadn’t been wearing a tank top, I probably wouldn’t have been cut so much. But it was summer, and the AC wasn’t working.”

“Was he drunk a lot?”

She nods. “Yeah. I mean he’d stop every once in a while. But eventually, it would go back to the same.”

How much did my girl endure under her father’s roof?

“Last night when Pavel was drinking, you were getting nervous.” She’d practically been in my lap by the time we finished the game.

“An old habit.” She shrugs. “I still get anxious when I see men drinking. I can’t help it.”

Of course not. How many times did she sit and watch her asshole father drink himself stupid? Every sip must have been terrifying for her, knowing what came after he’d gotten himself good and drunk.

“Then I’ll be sure no one drinks too much when you’re with me,” I promise.

Most of the men wouldn’t get drunk with our women around anyway; they remain in control for themselves. But now and then someone can have one too many.

“You don’t have to do that.” She dips her shoulders beneath the water and leans her hair back.

“Of course I do.” I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her to me, pushing us to the deepest water where her feet won’t touch. She wraps her hands around my neck.

“You really don’t, Viktor. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, moy sladkiy voin.” I kiss the scar on her shoulder.

I kiss her neck, just below her earlobe.

“What does that mean? That name you call me all the time?”

I lick the water from her chest. “Moy sladkiy voin? It means my sweet warrior.” I kiss the corner of her mouth.

“A warrior?” She pulls away with her eyes wide and a blush forming already on her cheeks.

“Yes. You are fierce, strong, and independent.” I bring us back to where her feet can touch and lean her against the wall.

Her eyebrows rise. “You think that about me?”

I shrug. “It’s who you are, Marlena.” I brush her hair away from her neck, and kiss her again, then lower and lower still until my tongue touches the tip of her nipple.

She rolls her shoulders back.

I slide my hands down her body, beneath the water until I find the small patch of curls. Threading my fingers through the short hair, I fist what I can and watch as her mouth drops open, her eyes widen, and the soft relief of pain washes over her.

“You said you wanted fun, let’s have fun.” I tighten my grip.

Her cry echoes in the pool room.