“I’ve got nothing to say to you, to any of you. As you can see, I’m fine, now leave. You’re disturbing my peace.”
I went to remove my other boot and managed to stumble backward, barely catching myself. And if the universe were my friend, which it wasn’t, the boot would have at least come off with my less-than-graceful show. But it didn’t.
Nik smoothly knelt down and yanked my boot, causing me to squeal as I tried to find my balance, dance training failing me in equal measure. Tsking me like a foolish child, the Crow deftly untied it.
“Malyshka, Ivan and I aren’t going to be leaving anytime soon. It’s coming down too hard, and I got an alert that the road is closed.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I yanked my socks off. “You can stay in your car. I didn’t ask you to come up here, and maybe you should have checked the weather before you did,” I fumed, feeling frozen through.
I walked into the cabin and shut the door. Ten seconds later, it slammed open, and Ivan barreled through it. I unsheathed my knife and whirled to face him, clocking the distance—less than five feet. Tapping into muscle memory, I flung it underhanded by the handle, and it whizzed through the air.
I stared in awe as he caught the sharpened edge, flipped the blade, and dropped it before stalking toward me. The look on his face was a cross between admiration and fury. My breath caught in my throat. Stark hunger swirled in his eyes, too, and in the span of three seconds, he was standing before me.
Grabbing me by the arms, he pulled me close to him and growled, “I don’t know if I should kiss you or spank your ass.”
“Game night’s over, if you hadn’t noticed, and I don’t have the right hair color,” I huffed, both of us breathing heavily as tension wrapped its arms around us. Ivan’s eyes flared and his cheek twitched.
“I’d suggest holding off on spanking her ass, Brother. Seeing as that’s what got us into this mess,” Nikolai said, closing the door softly.
Ivan’s grip was fierce, every bit as dangerous as Alek’s was possessive. Images of being bent over Ivan’s lap unleashed a burning desire inside me that shocked me to the core.
“Down, Ivan. Let her go. Her lips are damn near blue, and she’s going to crack a tooth if she’s not careful.”
Ivan smirked and let me go. I stumbled back, and he reached his hand out to steady me. Once I was firmly rooted to the floor, I slapped his hand away. I stalked toward my room and slammed the door. I wanted to scream in frustration, at myself, at my reaction to Ivan.
What the hell is wrong with me?
My head throbbed. I quickly disrobed and climbed into the shower. The hot water stung like little knife cuts, and strangely enough, it calmed me down. Twenty minutes later, I made my way toward the kitchen, a bemused smile playing at the corner of my lips.
The sight that greeted me was nothing short of comical as Ivan and Nikolai stood staring at the stove, their faces twisted in frustration. Leaning against the doorframe, I continued staring.
“Like I know how to use one of these things? What do I look like, a goddamn chef?” Ivan shouted. His exasperated voice echoed through the kitchen, punctuated with several random Russian words that I was almost positive were curses.
Nikolai, undeterred by Ivan’s outburst, calmly remarked, “You’ve got the temperament of one. Now quit your baby crying and pull up the model so we can figure this shit out.”
With my amusement growing, I approached them. “Step away from the stove, gentlemen, before one of you blows us all up.”
My eyes locked with Nikolai’s as I reached for the kettle in his hands. He quickly pulled it away, holding it hostage. I put my hands on my hips as a mischievous glimmer danced in his eyes. “Either you give me the kettle, or no one gets tea. Don’t be foolish.”
There was a brief moment in which his eyes went soft, almost vulnerable, and I heard Ivan suck in a deep breath. Just as quickly, the look vanished. Holding my gaze a minute more, he thrust the kettle toward me, an unspoken connection having just passed between us.
I was desperate to distract myself from it, so I pinched the sides of the knob together, disengaged the safety guard, and easily flicked my wrist, igniting the stove.
Before I could even react, Ivan’s huge hand swung out. “See, I told you that was what we should do, but you never listen.” His palm connected solidly with the back of Nik’s head. The sound of the impact reverberated through the kitchen.
Nik’s head jerked forward in response, but a Machiavellian grin instantly spread across his face. He reacted swiftly, retaliating by lunging forward and attempting to catch Ivan off guard. Their movements were fast, fueled by a blend of competitiveness and what could only be described as pure joy as they wrestled around like boys.
As they tumbled to the floor, the sounds of their scuffle, intertwined with cursing and grunts as blows landed, had my temper flaring. They were going to break something and really piss me off.
“Dostatochno,” I roared, my voice bouncing through the small space.Enough.Instantly, I felt the weight of the word as it hung in the air.
Nik’s playful wrestling came to an abrupt halt, his eyes meeting mine soft and uncharacteristically sad. I caught a glimpse of something deeper within him, but, damned the man, the moment passed just as quickly. He flashed me a playful grin and righted himself.
On the other hand, Ivan’s reaction was far more profound. I glanced down at the giant sprawled across my kitchen floor, and waves of emotions washed over his face. Longing and pain flickered in his eyes, as if me telling them enough had touched a deep part of him.
I was completely thrown, and I wanted to rush over and hold him. Sensing the tension, Nik reached down to help Ivan up, straightened his shirt, then smacked him once more for good measure.
Wanting to take back control of the situation, I spoke again. “I suggest the two of you sit your asses down like civilized men or get the fuck out.”
