Painted Scars (Perfectly Imperfect, #1)(44)

“Do you think I haven’t noticed it’s always Dimitri or Ivan coming with us, never Kostya or

Mikhail, or Sergei, who are all as tall as you? Or how they either sit down or leave the room when I come in? When I went into the kitchen a few days after Kostya was stabbed, he dropped down into the chair so abruptly, it’s a wonder he didn’t tear out his stitches. You had to instruct your men to fucking sit down when I enter a room so I wouldn’t freak out. I’m sure it’s tiring and frustrating, dealing with my issues. Will you decide to have me replaced with someone less fucked up at some point?”

“Christ, Nina.” He stares at me in shock. “How can you say something like that?”

“Oh, you don’t like how that sounds, huh? Well, fuck you, Roman,” I whisper, turn my face into his chest, and let the tears fall freely.

I feel his hand in my hair, his other arm coming around my waist, and in the next moment, he has me lying on top of him. He removes the strands of hair stuck to my teary face, and brushes the skin under my eyes with his thumbs.

“I’m so sorry, milaya. It’s just . . . I love you so bloody much. I’m scared shitless that you may walk away one day.”

I grind my teeth. “Give me your hand.”

He raises his eyebrow but does as I ask.

I lead his hand down between our bodies until it reaches between my legs, and I press his fingers over my wet panties. “You feel that, Roman? That’s what only lying next to you does to me. I’m so crazy about you, baby, that simply being close to you makes me dripping wet,” I whisper, and I feel him getting hard under me.

Slowly, he hooks his finger in the waistband of my panties and starts dragging them down.

“Off,” he barks.

“Roman, no . . .”

His other hand comes to them, and there’s a sudden sound of fabric tearing. I’m still stunned over the fact that he just tore my panties off of me when he pushes his boxer briefs down, grabs me around the waist, and slides me down his cock. It feels so good that my eyes roll in my head, while my muscles start spasming around his length.

“Mine,” he utters and slams into me. “Only mine. Say it.”

“Only yours, baby.”

Another slam and I’m done, my insides imploding. Shudders overtake my body. Roman groans

under me, thrusts deep inside me, and I feel his seed filling me. Still coming down from the high, I drop onto his chest. That was the most mind-blowing one-minute sex I’ve ever experienced.

Roman’s arms come around my back, squeezing me to him, and I feel his lips kiss the top of my head.

“So, you’re staying for good?” he whispers.

“You are not getting rid of me even if you try. No way I’ll be able to find such a sexy husband again.” I smile and kiss him. “We’re closing this subject, Roman. Deal?”

“Deal. But I need you to know one thing. When I find that bastard who hurt you, I’m killing him.”

“No, you are not.” I squeeze his arm. “I don’t want to have anyone’s death on my conscience, so please, I beg you, forget about it.”

“Nina . . .”

“Please, we’re closing that subject, as well. You are not killing anyone for me. I can’t live with that. Please.”

When he doesn’t reply, I take his face in my palms and press my forehead to his.

“You won’t do that to me. You won’t seek him out, and you won’t kill him. If you love me, you won’t make me bear anyone’s death on my soul. Say you understand, Roman.”

There is silence and then, “Okay.”





Chapter 14


My knee is much better the following morning, but it still hurts like hell when I place any weight on my right leg. After breakfast, I ditch the crutches and take the wheelchair. I haven’t been using it for weeks, and I hate that I have to now, but I don’t want to risk any further damage to my knee. Nina may not have a problem with me using the crutches, but I do. Whatever it takes, I’m getting to that bloody cane, because I want to be able to hold her hand in mine when I’m taking her to dinner or even just for a walk.

“I’m going downstairs. Igor is teaching me to make borsch.” Nina smiles, leans in, and kisses me.

“Want me to bring lunch when I come back?”

“Yeah, I’ll be working from here. And tell that boar that if he dares to raise his voice to my wife again, he’s done.”

“Don’t be an ogre, Roman.”

I watch her leave, then go to my bedroom and turn on the laptop. Bringing up the audio software, I find the recording from Leonid’s room and play the feed at the approximate moment we came back last night.

There was a specific reason for me hiding the fact that my leg is getting better. I was almost positive that seeing me walking again would lead Leonid into trying something, and I wanted to catch his partner before that. It’s been almost five months, and since I failed to find out who the motherfucker is, it was time to nudge Leonid into action. Based on the way he stared at me last night, I have a feeling that there is a nice surprise waiting for me.

In the middle of the recording, I finally find what I am looking for. Leonid is calling someone, and since the timestamp at the corner of the screen shows two a.m., I’m pretty sure it’s not a business-related call. What surprises me though, is the person who answers.