Chapter 13
“Anything on the recording from Leonid’s room?” I ask and turn on the mixer.
I decided to make uspiroshkifor dinner. Roman said I’m trying to fatten him up. Like that could happen with his workout schedule. I went to the gym one morning and found him doing pull-ups, and boy was it a sight to see. The man has a six-pack I previously believed could only be achieved with a lot of photo editing. After that, I started getting up at seven so I could make it to the gym by eight, and drink my morning coffee while watching him. Since I’ve started this routine, he rarely manages to finish an entire workout because I usually drag him to the bedroom. What can I say? I get horny watching him work out. He doesn’t complain, so I guess he’s okay with me stealing some of his time.
Roman has been in a sour mood for the last two weeks, and I’m pretty sure it relates to not getting what he is after on those recordings. I haven’t asked what he was specifically looking to find, but I had my suspicions.
I feel a brush of lips at the nape, and then a kiss on my shoulder.
“Still nothing.”
“You are sure that your uncle is the one who tried to kill you?” I ask and his fingers go still on my neck. “It wasn’t so hard to guess, Roman.”
“Yes. Which is why I don’t want you anywhere near him unless I’m with you.”
“What would he do with me? I’m... nobody.”
What I meant to say was, “I will be gone in a few months anyway,” but I couldn’t make myself say the words. It hurts too damn much to think about it, so I don’t. I’m exceptionally good at ignoring the things I don’t find pleasant.
“You are my wife. Hurting you would mean hurting me.”
Yeah. I guess having thepakhan’swife killed under his nose wouldn’t paint a nice picture in the eyes of his partners and subordinates.
“I’ll be cautious.”
“Good.” He kisses my shoulder again. “Leave that thing in the fridge. Get changed. I’m taking you to Ural.”
“The mountain?”
“One of my clubs.”
“One of...?” I stare at him and laugh. “Man, I did good. I’m such a gold digger. My mom will be really happy when she hears.”
“Why?”
“She always advised me to marry well, among other things. I guess I can cross that one off the list.”
“And what are the other things.”
“Get a degree in economics. Not to bite my nails. Die my hair blonde.”
“You are not touching your hair.”
“Not a fan of blondes?”
“Not anymore.” He bends until his nose touches mine. “Go get changed.”
“The black dress?”
“Not if you have any intention of leaving this wing, Nina.”
* * *
No more than thirty minutes to get ready is my usual MO. However, I decided to take it up a notch tonight, and spent fifteen more minutes applying makeup. I want to look my best in case we run into one of Roman’s exes. It’s vain, I know, but I don’t care.
I find Roman in the kitchen. He’s leaning on the counter, supporting himself with a crutch in his left hand and holding a tumbler of whiskey in the other.
His leg is getting better. He hasn’t been using the wheelchair at all while he’s in the suite for quite some time. Although, I still haven’t seen him use the cane. I know he’s practicing, but when I asked to see, he said he won’t have me seeing him wobbling around. It’s stupid, but I don’t press.