Her lips part, and she slowly lets her hands fall to either side of her. I can almost taste the dramatic shift of her mood in the air. Interesting.
“To you, remember?” I add in the same casual manner I’ve been speaking with.
I’m almost sure I spot some form of relief, but it vanishes when she starts to get up. “I should probably go help Nadia with something.”
She stumbles in her attempts to stand, and I reach her in a few steps and then support her from behind, one hand on her arm and the other grabbing her wrist.
Aleksandra starts to push me away. “I can stand on my own.”
“You don’t even have the strength to breathe properly.”
“I’m fine.” She attempts to wiggle free of my hold, but I tighten my grip on her.
“Quit being stubborn.”
Her body’s still rigid, but she doesn’t fight anymore. Once she’s calmed down a little, I release her and reach for the velvet robe Nadia placed on the foot of the bed.
I gently pull it over her injured side, and she groans but quickly mutes the sound. I’m starting to realize that she hates showing weakness more than anything. That’s probably why she didn’t want me to help just now.
That’s also why she looked horrified when Nadia told her I carried her all the way here. Or maybe that had to do with how she called me her husband a couple of times.
“Now, put in the other hand.”
She begrudgingly complies. “I can do it on my own.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you insisting on helping?”
I pull up the strap of the nightgown that’s been subtly teasing me for the past twenty minutes.
Goosebumps erupt on her skin, and she goes still. She even stops breathing for a second too long.
A devilish thought sparks my mind. I wonder if she’ll tremble if my handinnocentlytouches her breast.
I only have a side view of her face, but the more my hand lingers on her skin, the longer she holds her breath.
After a quick thought, I remove my hand.
While it’s fun to toy with her, the way she’s holding her breath may cause complications.
Slowly, her chest rises and falls in a harsh rhythm as she snatches the belt of the robe and ties it around her waist.
“Are you mad about something, Sasha?”
She whirls around and stares at me with that stupefied expression. “Why are you calling me that?”
“Everyone in the unit does. I assume it’s your way of relating to your true name more, yes?”
“I never said you could use it.”
“Never said I couldn’t.”
She narrows her eyes as if I’m next on her shit list, which wouldn’t be a surprise, considering all the whiplash I must’ve been giving her.
Sasha hasn’t been with me long enough to know that my actions turn unpredictable when I’m in a situation that I haven’t anticipated.
“You might want to control your expression. Our hosts are already suspicious of you, and we don’t want them to kick us out in the middle of a storm, now, do we?”