He gently pulls the sleeve of my shirt up and then peels off the wrap that Nikolai must’ve put on last night. My skin is tender and stings a bit, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. I never thought I’d have a tattoo, let alone one of a vicious bear and a man’s name in Cyrillic, but there’s no denying Nikolai’s skill. It’s beautifully done, and I’m surprised by how much I like it.
“Don’t scrub it, but it’s okay if it gets a little wet. I’ll put some more ointment on it when you’re done.”
“How many tattoos do you have? Did Nikolai do them all?”
His mouth quirks up in a small grin. “I have a lot, and he did most of them.”
A shirtless image of him pops into my mind, but I quickly push it away. Ten days at Ruby’s taught me that sex is pain, and I want nothing to do with it. Giving Ruslan one last pat, I crawl out of bed and start to unzip one of my bags, digging around for something to wear.
Vasily opens the door to his huge, walk-in closet. “You can hang your stuff up in here. There’s plenty of room.”
I think about the black dress that I threw into the garbage in the bathroom and decide that there’s a few other things I never want to see again. “Okay,” I tell him. “Thanks.”
“Meet me downstairs when you’re done. I want to introduce you to everyone.”
I nod, wondering how many people live in this huge house, and then grab a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and head for the bathroom. My toiletry bag is already in here from last night, and I notice that Vasily has pulled open two drawers for me. They’re empty, so I’m assuming he’s telling me I can use these for my things. After setting everything up, I study my reflection, wincing at the image staring back at me. My lip is still puffy, the cut making me suck in a quick breath every time I forget and try to smile or lick my lips, and there are circles under my eyes from stress and lack of sleep. The finishing touch is a nice purple bruise spreading across my cheek.
When I strip down, I realize it’s not the only mark ski mask left on me. I see the bruises Vasily was talking about dotting my thighs from where that bastard had gripped me too tightly to hold me in place. A few others dot my skin, but they’re from several days ago and well into the yellow-green phase. My wrists are a mess from the restraints he used on me yesterday. A ring of dark purple mars my skin, and when I get out of the shower, I decide to wear a long-sleeve tee instead of the T-shirt I’d picked out.
Nervous about going downstairs, I stall and hang up my clothes, making a pile of ones I never want to see again because they hold too many memories from Ruby’s. When I’m left with four outfits that I hadn’t worn at all while I was there, I shove the others into the wastebasket in the bathroom before forcing myself downstairs.
Several people are speaking Russian when I walk into the kitchen, and every single one of them immediately shuts up when they see me. Vasily gives me a sweet, reassuring smile and walks over to me. Ilya and Andrei are sitting at the large island. Ilya is busy polishing off a plate of waffles while Andrei drinks his coffee and talks with a pretty blonde woman. An older woman is by the stove taking bacon out of a pan. As soon as she’s done, she turns to me and gives me a big smile.
“You remember Andrei and Ilya from last night?” Vasily asks me.
“Yeah.” When they look over at me, I smile as much as my lip will allow and say, “Good morning.”
Ilya nods while chewing a mouthful of food, and Andrei smiles at me. The pretty blonde’s eyes keep straying to Andrei, making me wonder if they’re a couple. When she looks at me, she gives me a kind smile and steps closer, holding her hand out.
“Hi, Nina. I’m Svetlana. I clean up after this group,” she says with a soft laugh. Her accent is thick, but she’s easy to understand. “It’s good to have you here.”
I shake her hand and tell her thanks. I’ve barely gotten the word out before the older woman is coming up and pulling me into a big hug. She’s speed talking in Russian, and when she finally lets me go, I look up at Vasily for help. He smiles at me and then says something to her in Russian, and then says in English, “This is Katya, Svetlana’s mom. She does all the cooking for us.”
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Katya says in English. Her accent is much thicker than her daughter’s, and when I meet her hazel eyes, I’m surprised to see how much they’re glistening. She’s clearly fighting like hell to not cry. It’s obvious Vasily has told them where he found me. “Come sit down. Let me get you food.”
She squeezes my shoulder and gives me one last smile before going to fix me a plate. It’s obvious that Katya rarely sits still. She’s a bundle of energy, showing her love through food, and I like her immediately.
Vasily motions to one of the stools at the island. “Go ahead and sit down. Do you want some coffee?”
“Yes, please,” I tell him, slowly walking to the barstool next to Ilya. Keeping my eyes on Vasily, I sit down and try not to feel too out of place. Everything in my life has just gone completely haywire, but Vasily feels safe. He makes me feel like I’m not going crazy, and I can breathe a little easier when he’s near.
He brings me a mug of coffee, and I smile as much as I can when I see the straw he’s remembered to put into it. Taking the empty stool next to me, he thanks Katya when she puts two plates in front of us.
“Let me know if you want any more. There’s plenty.”
“I will, thank you,” I tell her.
Vasily looks down at me, sensing my nervousness, and leans closer to softly ask, “Do you want to eat on the veranda?”
He smiles when I quickly say, “Yes, please.”
Saying something to the others in Russian, he grabs our plates while I grab our two mugs of coffee and then follow him out through a set of French doors onto a gorgeous veranda with an amazing view of the ocean right in front of us. He sets our plates down at a small table and pulls out a chair for me. I sit down and look out at the rolling waves, laughing when Ruslan comes barreling over to greet us. The dog is so huge that he could easily just eat the food off our plates, but he’s too well-trained for that, so he sits and gives me the cutest puppy-dog eyes I’ve ever seen.
I look at Vasily. “Can I?”
He laughs and nods his head while I break off a piece of bacon. Ruslan whines but stops as soon as Vasily says something in Russian.
“What did you say?”
