The water washes over us. He’s still holding me, so I run my hands over his chest and shoulders, cleaning the blood off him. My fingers graze the mark I left.
“I’m sorry I bit you.”
He smacks my ass and laughs. “I told you before not to apologize for being a little wild woman. I love it, baby.”
Reluctantly, he sets me down so we can both get clean. Right before we step out, he unties the soaked T-shirt around my arm, growling in Russian when I wince and he sees that it’s still bleeding. Wrapping me in a towel, he sets me back on the counter and grabs a washcloth for me to press against the wound. Now that the adrenaline has stopped coursing through my body and I’m no longer being side-tracked by sex, it’s starting to hurt like a motherfucker.
“Press hard, baby.” He grabs his phone from the pants still lying on the floor and hits one of the names in his contacts list. “I need you here now. Nina needs stitches in her arm, and she might have a concussion.”
Whoever he’s talking to says something that Vasily doesn’t like because he growls, “I don’t fucking care. I’ll pay triple, just get your ass over here now.”
He hangs up without waiting for a reply and quickly towels off before grabbing us some clothes. After helping me dress, he picks me up again, cradling me against his chest while I keep pressure on the cut that refuses to stop bleeding. Bringing me into the kitchen, I look around and see that most of the guys have left. Vasily puts me on the island that Valeri and Volodya are sitting at while Alexei and Ilya lean against the other side of it. They’ve all changed into regular clothes so it no longer looks like the house is filled with deadly criminals.
I let out a relieved sigh when I see Ruslan sitting by Volodya. He’s eating a steak that someone gave him while Volodya scratches behind his ear. The big, happy dog is clearly eating up all the attention he’s been getting.
“Get cleaned up?” Valeri asks. The dimple in his cheek clearly on display with his big smile, making it painfully obvious that he knows exactly what we were up to.
Except for one dark brow arching up in warning, Vasily ignores him. “She’s still bleeding. The doctor will be here soon.”
“Is it the same one that came here before?” I ask him.
“No, this is the doctor we use when someone needs patched up.”
“A tattoo and stitches,” Andrei says with a smile. “You’re really part of the club now.”
I smile when Vasily says, “This will be the last time she gets stitches.” His voice has anend of fucking storytone to it that makes me laugh.
“I’m more than happy to go along with that,” I tell him when he frowns at my laughter.
“At least the cut wasn’t on the same arm as the tattoo. I would’ve been really pissed if he’d messed the bear up.”
He smiles at me and kisses my head before getting a dishtowel. Stretching my arm out gently, he takes the washcloth off and replaces it with the towel, tying it tightly to staunch the blood.
“You’re going to have to go up against the Irish now, aren’t you?” I ask.
“Don’t worry about it,zolotse,” he murmurs, inspecting my arm to make sure it’s tight enough without being too tight.
“But it’ll be a war,” I say, already worrying about him and his men.
He shrugs his broad shoulders as if it’s no big deal. “He knew what the result would be when he came here tonight and put his hands on you.”
The doorbell rings before I can ask any more questions. Sensing my frustration, he gives me a wink and then smiles at the frown I give him. A few seconds later, Ilya’s leading a young man towards us with hair so blonde it’s almost white. His pale eyes dart around the room, but he makes no comment.
“Dr. Larsen, so glad you decided to come,” Vasily says, stepping aside so the man can see me. “This is my wife, Nina.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Medvedev. I hear you had a bit of an accident.”
I look to Vasily because we didn’t talk about what story I was going to give. The doctor eyes me, and I know I must look like a victim of domestic violence. “He didn’t do this to me,” I quickly say. “I swear it was just an accident,” I add and then cringe because now I really do sound like a battered wife.
Vasily smiles and puts me out of my misery. “There was a slight incident with a break-in. I need you to take a look at my dog when you’re done with Nina. He broke through a window to make sure she was okay.”
“I’m not a vet.”
Vasily shoots him a look and puts a stack of money on the counter. “I’m guessing you can manage to look over a few cuts on a dog.”
Dr. Larsen eyes the money. “I’ll pretend he’s a very hairy person,” he deadpans.
“That’s the spirit, doc,” Vasily says, smacking him on the back. “Nina also hit her head. I don’t think she has a concussion, but I want to make sure.”
