ISABELLA
After having a nap, I feel a little better.
I go to Alexei’s suite where my clothes are, and taking a shower, I glance down at the left side of my body, where it’s covered in bruises.
I must’ve taken one hell of a fall.
When I’m done in the shower, I try to pat my hair dry, using only my right hand, then give up and throw the towel against the wall. Frustrated, I glare at my reflection in the mirror, and then my eyes lower to the two gunshot wounds.
I wish I could remember what happened.
“Isabella?” I hear Alexei call.
“I’ll be right out,” I answer. With a huff, I grab another towel and pat most of my body dry. I clench my teeth and power through the pain in my left shoulder and arm as I do my best to wrap the fabric around my body.
As soon as I step out of the bathroom, Alexei’s eyebrows shoot up, then he says, “It doesn’t look like you had a relaxing shower.”
“I didn’t,” I grumble as I start to walk to the closet. “Let me just get dressed while screaming in frustration, and then I’ll be with you.”
Alexei darts in front of me, and giving me a caring look, he says, “Let me help. You don’t have to do this on your own.”
“Help me get dressed? You?” I ask incredulously. “Yeah, I’m going to pass on the offer.”
Instead of being upset because I’m declining the offer, Alexei grins at me. “You’re hot when you’re pissed off.”
Letting out an annoyed huff, I shove past him and walk into the closet. “I get you’ve seen me naked a million times, but do you mind giving me some privacy?”
“Of course. Just shout if you need help.” When I shoot him a glare, he adds, “Or don’t.”
I watch as Alexei leaves the room, and then I turn my attention to the rows of clothes. Frustration bubbles over in my chest, and I clench my right hand into a fist, needing to beat the shit out of something.
I hate feeling helpless.
God, I hate it so much.
Grabbing a pair of panties, I bite through the pain of using my left arm and drag them up my legs. I drop the towel and decide a bra isn’t worth the amount of pain it will take to struggle through clipping it on.
Reaching for a black t-shirt, I pull it over my head, and then I take a moment to breathe before I carefully push my left arm through the sleeve. By the time I have the shirt on, my shoulder and forearm are on fire.
Closing my eyes, I try to control the anger and frustration swarming inside of me before I get overemotional.
“Alexei,” I call out.
The door instantly opens as he comes in. I hear it shut, and a couple of seconds later, I’m pulled into a hug. I rest my cheek against his chest and just focus on my breathing.
“I hate this,” I whisper. “I feel… weak.”
“I know.” Alexei presses a kiss to my wet hair. “But you’re not, Isabella. You’re a fucking force. Right now, you’re just injured. There’s a difference.”
I nod and then pull back to look up at him. “Can you help me put on my leggings?”
Wagging his eyebrows at me, he grins. “Mhhh… that kind of thing is foreplay to me.” His eyes sweep over my body. “I mean, you have killer legs.”
“Shut up and help me,” I playfully snap at him, appreciating that he’s trying to make me feel better.
Alexei turns to my clothes and pulls a pair of leggings from the closet. When he crouches in front of me, I place my right hand on his shoulder to keep my balance as I step into the pants, and then he tugs them up my legs.
Alexei adjusts the hem of my t-shirt then tilts his head as his eyes meet mine. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I shake my head then take a deep breath. I fucking hate this. “Will you help me dry my hair?”
Alexei drags his bottom lip between his teeth then says, “I like this wet and wild look on you. It’s sexy.”
Letting out a chuckle, I ask, “Is everything a turn-on for you?”
“When it comes to you, yes.”
Our eyes lock for a moment, and anticipation begins to build between us, dimming the anger and frustration I feel.
Alexei has been nothing but good to me the past week. From the moment I opened my eyes, he was there to make everything better.
I probably would’ve lost my shit by now if he wasn’t around to calm me down.
Closing the distance between us, I turn my head and rest my cheek against his chest again. Alexei’s arms wrap around me, and it makes me feel safe… as if I belong… as if this is how things were between us.
Lifting my right arm, I place my hand on his back, then I whisper, “I just need a moment.”
“Take as long as you need, baby. I get to hold you so you won’t hear any complaints from me.”
Everything he says is perfect.
Everything he does is perfect.
Too perfect?
“I love you, Isabella,” he murmurs, and it sounds like he means it.
Pulling back, I meet his eyes. “Why do you love me?”
A slight frown flits over his forehead before disappearing. “I love you because you’re so fucking strong. There’s not much you’re afraid of. You’re a fighter, intelligent, caring, breathtaking. Honestly, there isn’t one thing I can say I don’t love about you.”
I can see he means every word, and it eases the worry that popped up.
“Come on. Let’s dry your hair. Demitri made dinner to welcome you back home.”
I follow Alexei to the dressing table and take a seat on the stool. My eyes track his movements as he pulls the hairdryer out of a drawer, and when he begins to dry my hair, it feels as if he’s done it before.
I relax and use the time to watch Alexei, memorizing his movements as his fingers comb through my hair… and every inch of his face.
I can see why I fell for him. I don’t think it will take much for me to fall for him again.
The longer I stare at him, the more familiar he becomes, and by the time he’s done drying my hair and looking down at me with pride, I feel warmth spreading through my heart.