She turned over her flush.
A crack of laughter left him. “Nicely done, Roks,” he said, turning over his ace-king. “You threw me off the scent of that flush.”
“I think I’m getting the hang of this game!” She hopped to her feet and threw up her hands in victory. Her muscles all screamed at once. “And thank God, too,” she gasped. “With one weakness conquered, I can allow myself to accept the painkillers.”
Elias caught her before she hit the ground.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Roksana bolted upright in bed and searched in the darkness for Elias.
“Hello?” she called, rubbing her eyes. No answer. “He must have gone out for supplies.”
How much time had passed since she’d been asleep?
She took stock of her body and found it didn’t ache nearly as bad as before. Her muscles were still sore, but the sharpest of pains had abated. Thank God. Wishing desperately for her cell phone or a clock, she climbed out of bed and went to use the bathroom. Elias had left a travel-size tube of toothpaste on the rim of the sink, along with a purple toothbrush. She picked them up and examined them, trying to picture Elias, thundercloud in the flesh, trying to pick out the right brush, and when she glanced up in the mirror, she found a dreamy smile on her face.
Grimacing, she hastily brushed her teeth and started a bath, hoping the hot water would give her the final boost she needed to appear normal at the poker game tomorrow night.
At least, she thought the poker game was happening tomorrow night? As rested as she felt, her nap might have lasted a month. Although deep down, she knew with an ironclad certainty that Elias wouldn’t let her sleep through something so important.
Winning the game would be her first step toward redeeming herself and she needed to be laser focused on making that happen. Not mooning over toothbrushes, for godsakes. Her mother had once again been merciful in giving her a second chance, and the possibility of approval from Inessa was the dangling carrot she could never seem to grasp.
This time. This time I’ll do it.
A few minutes later, Roksana took off the T-shirt and loose pants she’d slept in, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and carefully stepped into the hot bath, lowering herself down.
“Oh lord lord lord,” she breathed, muscles rejoicing by turning to jelly, tingles running along her scalp. “If only I had some—”
Soap.
A simple white bar caught her eye from its perch on the edge of the tub.
Roksana reached for it, grumbling about confusing vampires under her breath. Moving gingerly, she lathered the fragrant soap in her hair and cleaned herself beneath the surface, the sound of stirring water eerie and beautiful all at once in the black bathroom. She finished and replaced the soap, leaning back in the tub, plugging her big toe in and out of the faucet lazily, the sound of dripping water unearthing a memory.
“We should be studying,” Olga fretted, flopping down on the wooden sauna bench, the heat causing her eyelids to droop. She collapsed sideways, the knot of her white towel coming loose. “Oh never mind. Fuck it. This is way more important.”
Roksana traded an amused look with Kira and followed suit, sprawling themselves out in the giant sauna. She’d encouraged her friends to ditch their Wednesday afternoon classes for some girl time, too excited about the upcoming trip to Vegas to focus on inconsequential things such as calculus. One boisterous ride on the metro later, they were enjoying the two-hundred-year-old facilities at the Sanduny bath house. And since it was the middle of the day, they had it all to themselves.
After a few minutes of silence, Olga raised an eyebrow, sweat already beginning to dot her forehead. “How much did you say the day pass cost?”
Roksana waved a hand. “Not so much. I know a guy.”
“You know a guy,” Kira echoed, letting Roksana see her skepticism.
“Da.” Roksana rolled over to face the wall, mooning them in the process. “I told him we were coming, so he left the back entrance open for us.”
Actually, she’d come this morning and picked the lock in advance.
Not that she could tell them that.
Seeming reassured, Olga and Kira started talking about logistics of packing her wedding dress. They were still bickering about the merits of vacuum packing when the sauna door burst open to reveal a scowling woman in a white uniform. “Out!” She made a shooing motion at them, her sneakers squeaking on the sauna floor. “Paying customers only. The police have already been called!”
“Roksana,” Olga groaned, rolling off the bench and securing her towel, all while cowering in the face of the woman’s anger.
Kira was splitting her sides laughing. “You are insane.”
“Run!”
And that was how they ended up half dressed and barefoot in the freezing cold streets of Moscow, stumbling into a coffee shop bathroom, laughing while onlookers shook their heads.