Page 28 of The Bratva's Innocent Forbidden Bride
“How come I don’t trust you?” she asked, her hands poised for another surface slap.
“Because somewhere along the line you must have developed a suspicious nature.”
She snickered but didn’t take offense. “And you didn’t?”
“It’s how I’m still alive.”
“Barely.”
I splashed her once more for that crack and then leaned against the side of the pool to let one of the jets beat against my good shoulder blade. “Go ahead and swim. You used to be a fish. You won every race that year at the end of secondary school, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes shuttering a little as if her victories brought her no joy.
She began a lazy backstroke, her sweatpants hindering her and flapping around her legs, but she would have opened a vein before admitting I had the right idea. As she passed, she flipped underwater, showing off a little despite not wanting to recall how good she’d been.
“You used to swim every morning, didn’t you?” she asked.
I raised my brows, surprised. “I still do when I can,” I told her. “How did you know that?” I couldn’t imagine Grigor had shared my morning rituals with her.
She shrugged, starting her backstroke again. “I used to have sleepovers at your house, whenever Sofiya had a party that she had to invite everyone to. I always woke up before everyone else, and every time I snuck downstairs for a swim, you were already in the pool.”
“A young voyeur, then?” I asked, just to see the blush rise up from her chest. She stopped her slow backstroke and half-heartedly splashed me again, but didn’t dispute my claim. “At any rate, I’m sorry I spoiled your morning swims back then.”
I wanted to stop this trip down memory lane because I didn’t want her to think I still saw her as a child. I didn’t, not at all. Not even close. I’d only been aware of her peripherally, one in a sea of faces at Sofiya’s parties, which I always left her nanny in charge of and kept well out of the way.
“If you didn’t pack a swimsuit, I’ll order one for you,” I told her on her next pass.
Her arms were long and graceful as they glided through the water, and her legs seemed hardly hampered by the soaked sweats. She was a different person in the water, strong and sure. I wanted to make sure she could keep coming up here to swim if she wanted to. I groaned inwardly, realizing I was planning for a future together.
As if we weren’t on opposing sides of a fight I meant to win.
“That would be nice,” she said, not too begrudgingly. “I probably should have brought one, but I didn’t think I’d have time to swim.”
“Well, you’ve got it now.” That earned me a scowl, but it was already gone after she did another flip underwater and came up looking relaxed.
No more lines between her brows, and the reflection of the sun on the water masked any dark circles under her eyes. Even the set of her slender shoulders was looser. I crossed my arms, feeling pretty good about myself.
“What?” she asked, noticing.
“This was a good idea.”
She sighed. “Yes, I guess I have to agree.”
The future was hazy, and the past was something I didn’t want to return to, so what else was there to talk about? It shouldn’t have mattered when the sun warmed my shoulders, soothing away the tightness from my injury. But it did matter somehow. I wasn’t satisfied enjoying the very pleasant view of Tati sluicing through the water, back and forth in front of me. I wanted more.
And the fact that I wanted more had my stress rushing back. A sudden chill breeze only reiterated how useless and foolish it was to spend time with Tati like she was an old friend and not my prisoner.
A prisoner I had to convince to talk, and hopefully she’d be more willing to do that if she didn’t view me as an enemy. There, instant justification for why I was still in the pool with her. Nothing at all to do with memories of my stolen kiss coming back to me the longer I kept my eyes on her.
Of course, I remembered the kiss. No amount of painkillers could have wiped it from my mind. But why did I do it? Why did I want to do it again?
“I’m getting out,” I said abruptly.
She stopped, looking disappointed, then held up her hands. “Yeah, I’m turning into a prune. But this was great.”
“It’s still great,” I said.
I made my way up the steps, and when I turned back to see if she was following me, she was frozen in place in the shallows, bright red and looking everywhere but at me, dripping wet and stark naked. To save her adorably prudish sensibilities, I quickly headed to the small changing room and grabbed a towel to wrap around my hips.
