26. Chapter 26 #4
“Exactly,” I replied, relieved we had come to the same conclusion. “Which means I need to go into town.”
“No.” The answer came so fast it practically echoed.
I blinked at him, my eyes wide. “You didn’t even think about it.”
“I already considered it yesterday.”
“And you already decided no.”
“Yes,” he rasped, dragging a hand through his hair and mussing it up. It should be illegal to look this good.
I threw my hands in the air. “I want to go shopping, not rob a fucking bank.”
“You will not walk around alone in a city you do not know.”
I shot him an incredulous look. “I’m more than capable of going out to buy a fucking pair of shorts.”
“That’s not my concern,” he ground out, a muscle jumping in his jaw.
“Then what is the concern?”
“If something happens to you,” he said calmly while swinging his legs off the bed, “I will have to kill someone.”
“Feels like an aggressive response to a little shopping trip.”
“It’s an entirely realistic response in my world, baby.”
I crossed my arms.
“So what’s the alternative?”
Sasha shrugged. “I’ll come with you.”
I gaped at him, brows shooting up to my hairline. “You’re going to come shopping with me.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re going to hate that.”
“Possibly.” He ran a hand through his hair again. “But we’re going to go anyway. Not today, but I’ll take you the day after tomorrow. Sound good?”
“Are you sure about this?”
“Absolutely.”
I squinted at him. “You’re extremely stubborn.”
Sasha grinned. “Glad you noticed.”
“And possessive.”
“Careful, baby. I might think you’re into me with how much attention you’re paying to me.”
I rolled my eyes. “And mildly unhinged.”
He shrugged. “Only mildly.”
Sasha rolled out of bed, walked past me toward the chair in the corner. He grabbed one of his shirts out of his bag and tossed it in my direction.
“Put this on.”
I caught it automatically and examined it for a moment before pulling it over my head. The fabric dropped halfway down my thighs, which I wasn’t mad about considering the lack of shorts underneath it.
When I looked back up, Sasha had gone very still. His eyes moved slowly from my legs to my face, and the air in the room shifted.
“You can wear this for now.”
I quirked a brow, the corner of my mouth twitching. “That was the plan.”
“And nothing else.” He raked his hungry gaze over my body, the heat in his eyes almost palpable.
“Well I wasn’t planning to accessorize,” I quipped, deliberately misunderstanding his comment to wind him up.
His hand brushed briefly against my hip as he passed. “Good.”
The villa’s large, open kitchen was filled with sunlight — a bright, airy space making it hard to believe several armed men lived somewhere on the property.
Coffee was already brewing, and the ocean glittered through the tall windows.
Kyrill was sitting at the long kitchen island, eating eggs with such intense focus, you would have thought he was convinced his breakfast was going to escape any second.
He looked up as we walked in, his sharp gaze landing on me. One eyebrow rose slowly, almost artistically, when he took in my attire.
His eyes moved to Sasha, then back to me.
“Well,” Kyrill drawled.
I slid onto one of the stools and shot him a bright smile. “Good morning to you, too.”
“You already doing this couple shi— stuff?”
“It’s just a shirt.”
“It is his shirt.” Kyrill pointed his fork at the hulking figure behind me.
Sasha casually rested his hand on my shoulder, his fingers brushing the side of my neck in an absent, territorial way suggesting he was unaware of what he was doing and had no intention of stopping.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
“She looks good in it.”
Kyrill took a slow sip of coffee, regarding us over the rim of his mug. “That is not the issue.”
“What’s the issue?” I asked.
“Issue,” Kyrill drawled, “is Sasha looks like he is about to fight the sun for seeing you in it.”
I turned slightly to look up at Sasha, raising a brow questioningly. “Are you about to fight the sun?”
“Not yet.”
I snorted. “Reassuring.”
Kyrill pushed a plate of eggs and toast toward me. “Eat.”
I took a bite and pointed my fork at him. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I am observing.”
“You are absolutely enjoying this.”
“I have known Sasha ten years,” Kyrill mused. “This is most entertaining breakfast I’ve had in a decade.”
Sasha snorted quietly. “You’re dramatic.”
“You threaten your own men for greeting her.”
Sasha scowled. “He smiled at her.”
“Because he didn’t want to frighten her.” Kyrill snorted.
A muscle in Sasha’s jaw jumped. “He was looking at her.”
I nearly choked on my coffee. “Oh my God.”
Kyrill turned to me, adopting the patient air of someone explaining wildlife behavior to a tourist. “Sasha is territorial.”
I gave him a flat look. “I gathered as much.”
“Before you,” Kyrill continued thoughtfully, “he was mostly territorial about weapons.”
“Should I be concerned?”
“Bah. Nothing to be concerned about here.”
Sasha’s thumb brushed lazily along my collarbone.
“It’s too early in the morning for you to talk this much,” he told Kyrill.
“You kidnapped a woman and brought her to Puerto Rico,” Kyrill replied calmly. “You have forfeited the right to quiet breakfasts.”
“I rescued her.”
“From what?”
Sasha shrugged. “A stalker and a boring life.”
I lifted my coffee mug and raised it in a toast. “To the exciting alternative.”
Kyrill clinked his mug against mine. “To chaos.”
Sasha watched us both with the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. His hand was still resting on my shoulder as if it had always been there.
The way Kyrill glanced between us, shaking his head with quiet amusement, made it clear the history between the two men ran deep enough for this ridiculous breakfast involving stolen shirts and territorial Russians to be the most normal thing in the world.