Painted Scars (Perfectly Imperfect, #1)(16)

“I was wondering where you were,” she says with a heavy accent. “The kitchen has been bursting with gossip since last night.”

“Nina, this is Varya,” Roman says entering the kitchen. “Varya knows about our agreement.”

The older woman looks me over, from the top of my head and down, making me feel like I’m

sixteen and meeting the mom of my boyfriend for the first time. This woman is important to Roman, it’s evident from the sound of his voice when he talks to her. He seems, somehow, less guarded. If he shared the truth about our deal with her, it means he trusts her, and I don’t think that Roman trusts many people.

“So, when is the wedding planned?” she asks.

“In a few weeks.” I shrug.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Roman.” Varya turns to him. “If you keep Nina here that long,

you’ll have to introduce her to your men. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to introduce her as your . . .

lover.”

“You think we should do it sooner?” he asks.

“Yes. When you take her to your men, it should be as your wife. No one will respect her

otherwise.”

Roman watches Varya for a few moments, then takes his phone and makes a call.

“Maxim, change of plans. Reschedule the marriage official. For tomorrow afternoon.”

Whoa, what?

“That’s much better.” Varya smiles. “When should I send the dinner?”

“In an hour.”

“Perfect. I’ll make sure it’s Valentina who brings it, she described the scene she walked into yesterday with such detail. Very talented tattletale, that one. The whole kitchen staff and some of the men who were present listened to her with wide eyes, commenting how you never bring women to your home and how special this one must be.” Varya turns to leave but stops at the door. “Make sure she catches you doing something more intimate this time. You don’t want people to become suspicious when you announce that you two got married so suddenly, Roman.”

I stare at the door that Varya just went through, confused and slightly panicked, then turn to Roman.

“We are not having sex so that your maid can catch us.”

He laughs and heads toward his bedroom. “I’m going to take a shower and change. If you plan on doing the same, be quick and put on something lacy.”

“Excuse me?”

“There won’t be any sex involved. But Valentina will be bringing dinner to my room, and you are going to be there.” He throws the words over his shoulder.

“In your room?”

“In my bed, Nina.”




I’m rummaging through the kitchen drawer looking for a corkscrew when I hear the door to Nina’s room open. I lift my head and stare. Nina is standing in the doorway looking like some dark princess in a short lacy night-thing, with her midnight hair falling free on either side of her face.

She enters the kitchen on bare feet and comes to stand right in front of me, but she keeps her head down looking at my feet. On the outside she seems relaxed, but then she looks up and her back goes rigid. So, it’s like I assumed, it’s not being close to me that bothers her. It’s my height.

I remove the left crutch from under my armpit to lean it against the kitchen island, bend to grab Nina around her waist with my left arm, and lift her to sit onto the counter in front of me.

“There. Better?” I ask, but she only stares at me with wide eyes.

I turn to retrieve the left crutch from behind me and when I face her again, I see a stray tear trailing down her face. The sight guts me.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “It’s not you, Roman.”

“I know.” I reach out to place my palm on her cheek and brush away the tear.“I’m going to kill him, malysh. It’s going to be slow, and it’s going to be painful. Just give me his name.”



“No.”

“I’m not asking. Give me his fucking name.”

“I said no. I’m not making anyone a murderer.”

“Too late for that, Nina. The name.”

“Leave it. I’m not telling you. Just . . . leave it, damn it.”

I take a deep breath and try to bottle up the need to smash into something.

“Okay. I’ll leave it for now. But you are just delaying the inevitable.”

The phone starts ringing in my bedroom. It’s probably Varya checking up to see if we’re ready for dinner, but I’m not in a mood for playing games anymore.

“I have to get that.” I turn to head toward the bedroom and hear Nina getting down from the

counter.

She follows, keeping herself a few steps behind me, matching my slow pace. The phone stops

ringing just as I reach the nightstand.

“I’ll tell Varya to leave the tray in front of the door,” I say as I lower myself to sit on the edge of the bed. “You can go back to your room or wait in the kitchen.”

“No.” She reaches for the crutches I leaned next to me and slides them under the bed. I watch as she removes the bedcover and gets herself under the blanket.

“Come on,” she says, lifting the corner of the blanket.

Making sure there is enough space between us, I lay down expecting her to stay back. Instead, she throws her leg around me and climbs on top, lowering her head to place it on my chest. I barely breathe, trying my best not to move even a muscle, afraid of spooking her. We stay like that for a few moments, me lying still with her sprawled over my chest.