In the Beginning (Volkov Bratva #1)(59)

“Mish!”

He looked back at her with a knowing smile. “What?”

“You’re…you’re naked.”

“If I remember correctly, so are you.”

Well, he had a point. She watched him walk to their adjoining bathroom, drinking him in. One thing that Mishca had over every other guy Lauren knew was his excellent physique.

***

The acres of land behind the mansion were far more interesting than Lauren had originally assumed. Whoever had done the landscaping had quite the imagination, crafting the shrubbery into various shapes and sizes, creating a maze around the stone walkway.

Mishca skipped ahead of her, knowing his way around the maze better than she did. By the time she caught up to him, he was standing at the end, his hands behind his back.

“Are you going to throw a snowball at me?” She asked eyeing him suspiciously, looking for any bush she could duck behind, just in case he was planning an attack.

“The thought did cross my mind, but I come in peace. This, is for you.”

He held out a small flower, only about four inches tall with brilliant yellow petals that bloomed out like a tulip.

“It’s a Winter Aconite. It only grows in the colder months. Since I knew you were coming, I thought it would be nice to give you this.”

“Thank you.”

He was thoughtful, attentive, and always put a smile on her face. He was almost too good to be true, but Lauren didn’t think he was trying to get anything from her at this point. It had been months and he had had plenty of opportunities—last night for example—but he didn’t seem to want more than what she was willing to give.

“That’s sweet of you.”

“There are more over here.”

Following his lead, she fell right into his trap. Several snowballs were hurled at her from the right, Alex’s triumphant laughter filling the air. She looked to Mishca accusingly.

“I thought we were a team,” she said doing her best to appear hurt as she gave him her back, crouching down t pick up her flower that fell when she was first hit.

“Lauren, I’m—”

Scooping up a handful of snow, she didn’t bother trying to perfect a ball, just lobbed the lot of it at him. It flew everywhere, smacking against his face and chest. She then moved quickly, making a ball to throw at Alex.

She darted out of the way before it could hit her, leaving them to their battle.

“You don’t want to go to war with me,” Mishca threatened, making his own snowball.

“You wanna bet on that?” She taunted, backing away to take cover.

“Don’t forget the last time you bet against me, I won then too.”

“Try me.”

“Whoever get hits the most loses.”

“Yea, and what do I get when I win?”

He stalked towards her, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “If you win, I’ll give you what you want.”

She knew what he was hinting at, but she just had to ask, “And what do I want?”

“Me,” he said simply. “Inside you.”

Then he dropped the snow he held down the front of her shirt.

For hours, they fought, only coming in when they were both saturated with snow. Lauren was trembling, wrapped in two blankets, sitting in the media room as Mishca went in search of hot chocolate. There hadn’t been a clear winner, or Mishca was a sore loser and refused to admit that her last hit had actually clipped his foot.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Anya asked as she joined her. “I did say we would speak again when Mishca was otherwise occupied.”

She did, but that didn’t mean Lauren couldn’t hope otherwise. “Uh, yes, I am. You have a very nice home.”

She studied her tapping her nails against the arm of her chair. “Tell me, what is a girl like you doing with a boy like Mishca? Let’s be honest, you’re not his usual type.”

“I guess you’ll have to ask him that.” She had wondered the same thing months ago, but had eventually put it out of her mind because it wasn’t like he was giving her a reason to doubt his feelings for her.

“And what of his secrets? Has he confided in you?”

“Mishca doesn’t hide anything for me.” At least she didn’t think so.

“If that were true, you would know what I’m talking about, but judging from that confused, sheep-like expression on your face, I doubt that very much. Maybe you don’t mean as much to him as you think? Think about it.”

If her goal had been to tear away the happiness Lauren felt at being here, she accomplished it. She just stared at the spot Anya had been in, hearing her words over and over again.

What secrets could he be hiding? Most of his time was spent at the club or with her…but she didn’t know if he was at the club like he said he was, the suspicious voice said in the back of her mind.

“Lauren?” Mishca held out a steaming mug, never looking away from her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” He gave her that knowing look letting her know he knew she was lying. “I…well, I just want you to know you can talk to me about anything. I won’t judge you—unless you’re like a serial killer on your nights off.”

He sat down beside her, opening his arms for her to sink into. “What makes you think I’m hiding something?”