Chapter 7

Vera

I could list a thousand other things I could have been doing than taking care of my husband that was foolish enough to get injured.

I could have been sleeping or eating,... heck I could even have been painting. But instead I stood in there cleaning his wound. I was half tempted to stick the glass further inside his hand to assist him in hurting himself.

If he truly was consumed with the need to punch something did it really have to be something that would have hurt him? Why did he not simply punch the wall? It would hurt but not enough to wreak havoc on… wait why did I even care?

If my handsome husband wished he could go around punching every single glass he finds. I did not have to be angry because he was hurt.

Realising just what my thoughts were I grab a pillow and scream into it. He was my husband but I was not going to be addressing him like that. I was going to banish the thought of Nikolai from my head and go to bed.

As soon as I manage to get out of this dress.

I wonder why I let Aunt Sofia talk me into wearing this particular one for the after party, I had other easier to remove choices.

I stand to allow myself to struggle with all the tiny buttons on my dress properly. Removing my buttons had taken so much of my attention I did not hear the bathroom door open. But I feel his presence. It is no surprise that all of my attention moved to the man that was staring at me too. I tend to concentrate on one thing deeply, most times.

My eyes briefly meet his own beneath his mask, in an attempt to look away I am distracted by a half naked Nikolai so I let my eyes rake his tatooed skin as drops of water roll down his broad hard chest to his waist line where his towel hangs low. Nikolai definitely had all my attention. I could paint this man, preferably naked.

My eyes widen from the path my thoughts take and I immediately spin around to avoid my thoughts, missing towels and the man that caused all the things that are happening in my head.

No such luck.

In the time it takes me to gather my breath, he manages to enter a decent state of dress and he walks towards me.

“May I?”

Confusion clouds my eyes. I turn to him, cocking my head to the side, “What?”

“I want to help with the buttons.” Oh, that. I had somehow managed to forget why I was not already safely asleep.

I walk towards him, turn my back to him, only to realise now that I am facing a mirror. I see blush on my cheeks. Placing my cold hands on them I try to cool it down. My eyes drift back to meet mine in the mirror.

Why was I feeling attracted to someone I barely know? Granted that he is a very attractive person and I would have to be blind not to have noticed, was I not scared for myself? I shake that thought out of my head.

Nikolai will not hurt me. Somehow I believed when he said that and I wonder why.

I let him work his way down the buttons which would probably not be easy for him to undo with his large hands.

“That was the last one.” Nikolai says as he steps back from me.

“Thank you.” I reply then run towards the bathroom but not before grabbing a change of clothes.

During my shower I decided that I would be running away from my husband for the time being, but I also did not want him to know that. So, even if I would have loved to take a really long bath, I don’t. I had a secret to protect.

I step out of the shower and slowly approach the bed and bury myself beneath the blanket. I glance at Nikolai, certain he is not asleep but grateful he is pretending to be so I could sleep better.

As soon as my head settles on the pillow a wave of exhaustion hits me. It does not take long before I drift off to sleep.

As soon as I wake up I realise that I like the comfort of my bed. Perhaps I should have changed to a harder pillow earlier. My eyes drift open but the decor of my room looks different.

Then it occurs to me that this is not my room but my husband’s room. The husband I had married yesterday. The husband I was currently laying my head on. The husband I had wrapped my arms around. The husband I said I would be running from last night.

Somehow I choose now to remember that the said husband chops off people's heads and arms for a living. I freeze. I was so dead. I did not think Nikolai was a hugger. If he was so offended by my limbs and was going to pull them away from the rest of my body he might have already done it.

I roll away from him as gently as I can only to realize I have an arm stuck under him. How did it end up here?

Inch by inch I pull away my arms until it comes out from under him. Finally I was free. I raise my head to silently celebrate my victory only to find Nikolai’s eyes staring straight into mine.

I roll away and scream, loudly.

But I also land on the floor, hard. Standing up from my fall of shame, I rub my hands over my hair to push it out of my face and start towards the bathroom so I can be embarrassed in peace.

In order to reach the bathroom, I have to walk past Nikolai. I ignore that fact and hurry along. But my get away is interrupted as Nikolai pulls me back and I land on top of him.

“If you wanted to use me as your new harder pillow, you should have done it right.” It was like he heard my thoughts.

“Wait, did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, you talk a lot in your sleep.”

I groan and hit my head against his chest. And it occurs to me that he has been shirtless all this time. I find my hands drifting up his torso before it occurs to me that while he was my husband he was not really my husband.

His eyes meet mine and it feels like he is giving me the permission to go ahead, and I do. For a couple of seconds before I start to feel very shy under his gaze.

I stand and run out of the room, abandoning it entirely.

This time he does not stop me.

I walk into the kitchen to find Irena cooking breakfast. I look down at my shorts and realise I am not dressed to socialise with my mother-in-law. I turn around to go back to the room to at least dress better.

“Vera, where are you going?” Irena stops me. Bardinis have a thing for interupting my steps.

“I just wanted to dress better for company.”

She waves me off. “It’s fine, don't worry about that.”

She looks at me strangely and approaches me. “Is there something on my face?” I ask checking my face for the source of her attention.

“Are you blushing?”

Her asking does not help matters as my face heats up again as I probably turn a deeper shade of pink.