Page 46 of The Bratva's Innocent Forbidden Bride
My only option was to hurry into the office and risk being found in there if they came looking for me, or leave it for later, risking Kon coming home to find it unlocked. With a hiss of frustration, I shoved the door open just enough to turn the lock again, then slid it shut and hurried down the hall to see what the commotion was about.
I could pick the lock again if no one suspected me of wrongdoing. The alternative was to be back under constant surveillance with those damn guards breathing down my neck when Kon wasn’t around.
They weren’t arguing; they were struggling to bring in a huge package. I asked if I could help, and they impatiently shooed me back to my room. Curiosity about what was in the box that was almost as big as me kept me from being too upset about my missed opportunity, and after I heard them continue to swear and crash around for another half an hour, I peeked my head out again.
“What are you doing?” I asked sharply, hurrying forward, my jaw just about on the floor.
The thing in the box was a massive table loom. An expensive one, made of shiny wood and sleek metal parts. And those two oafs were killing it!
“That doesn’t go there no matter how much you bang on it,” I said, grabbing the guard’s arm before he could crack the frame. “What is this?” I asked once the beauty was safe, standing back to admire it.
“You seem to know,” he said. “But we don’t have a clue. The instructions are in Swedish.”
“Go, get. You’ve done enough to this poor baby. I’ll put it together.”
They were happy to be done with it, and I was thrilled to run my hands over the wood. My heart was singing when it was completed. It was a work of art already, and I only slumped because I had nothing to start a project. Until I looked in the box and found a bag full of sumptuous nubby cotton and wool yarns, bolts of handpainted silk I could cut or tear to my own specifications.
Fighting the urge to drool, I sat down to start stringing the warp threads, then chose a colored ball of wool at random. My mind went pleasantly numb as I ran the shuttle back and forth. The guards stuck their heads in a few times to make sure I hadn’t hurt myself while constructing the loom, and even stood behind me for a few minutes to watch my fingers fly.
I had lost my shot at searching the office, but I hardly cared as an inch of fabric appeared as if by magic, and then another and another. I was lost in my craft, forgetting everything else for a few glorious moments.
Actually, it had to be hours, because the light pouring in through the windows had waned, and I was leaning close and squinting when I heard Kon clear his throat behind me. He snapped on the overhead light and shook his head as I turned around, leaving my own small world to rejoin his.
He looked at me for a long moment, then moved closer to inspect my work.
“I’m just playing around,” I said. “There was no plan.”
He ran his finger over the riotous jumble of colors. There was no way I could pick only a few when so many different yarns were included.
“You’re talented,” he said. “This looks like it will be amazing when it’s finished.”
Thanks to this gift, my soul felt quiet for the first time in weeks. I was able to forget Kon’s tyranny for a little while. I tossed myself at him and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” I breathed. “Thank you so much for this.”
His hands rose to grip my waist, and he tugged me closer. “If I knew—”
We both stiffened when the main guard burst in. Kon turned away from me with a muttered curse. There was no way the guard would have interrupted him if it wasn’t something important.
“It’s been confirmed that you were followed,” he said.
“Did they stop?” Kon asked, all business. He turned to give me a brief glance I couldn’t quite read.
“Not in the perimeter we have set up. We’re widening it now.”
He nodded and dismissed the guard, then turned to me with a sigh. Whatever we were starting was finished. His eyes were dark, and his jaw was set. All the tranquility of working with my hands poofed away, and the tension returned to my shoulders.
As if sensing it, or seeing me flinch, he reached out to massage them. “My nephew owns this property,” he said. “We’re completely safe. But there are other tenants who might be in danger now that the Yakuza are getting bolder again.”
I nodded. His kneading fingers couldn’t erase the fear of whatever he was leading up to. “It’s time to move?” I asked.
He nodded, and was on his phone a second later, waving for me to return to my loom if I wanted.
I was too distracted and pulled out the prepared meal the cook had left at some point, putting it in the oven to reheat. I wasn’t hungry, but it was something to do. Kon came into the kitchen as I was pulling it out, looking less grim, but nowhere near happy.
“I arranged a new location. Everything is fine. We’ll have to be sneaky about leaving, though.”
It should have been the least of my worries, but I glanced over his shoulder to the living area where my giant loom sat with a new project on it. “I guess I won’t be able to finish that. It was a nice gift, though. I enjoyed it while it lasted.”
