“A bagel.”
“That’s not enough calories for you.”
He arches a brow at me, but I ignore him. Opening the fridge, I’m pleasantly surprised to see it well stocked. I grab ingredients for an omelet and the package of bacon. I start chopping onions and peppers and ask him, “So when should I have your meals ready?”
“I don’t have a set time for meals, Maddie. I usually get up early. I’ll eat lunch here if I’m around, and supper is whenever I’m done for the day. I don’t exactly keep normal hours with my job.”
“I usually make a bunch of casseroles that I can freeze on Sunday and I make extra ones that I can drop off at my mom’s. Is that okay? I’ll pay for all that on my own, of course.”
He puts down a large stack of hundred-dollar bills. “Use this to buy whatever groceries you need. When you need more, let me know.”
“Who the hell carries that much money around?”
He gives me a wink and takes a drink of his coffee.
Cracking some eggs, I say in as casual a voice as I can manage, “So if you need me to cook for more people just let me know, like if you’re going to have company or whatever.”
He steps closer, invading my space just enough to make every cell in my body fully aware of how close he is. Leaning towards me, he sets his mug down. Before pulling his hand away, he lets his fingertips graze the skin of my arm in the briefest of touches. My arm erupts in goosebumps. I look up at him, meeting his whiskey-brown eyes. The moment reminds me of when he’d had me pinned against the wall, except this time I’m making him breakfast instead of pissing on his leg.
“I don’t bring women home.”
“You brought me home,” I say, the words out before I can stop them.
“I did, and then I kept you.”
“Well, you hired me,” I correct.
The corner of his mouth lifts up. “Whatever you say,kiska.”
Before I can clarify that this is a working relationship and that we’re still not in kidnapping mode, the front door opens and a man walks in. He’s covered in even more tattoos than Volodya, which is saying something, and he’s gorgeous, of course he is. I’m beginning to think the only two requirements for joining the Medvedev Bratva is to be okay with killing people and to look mouthwateringly sexy while you do it.
The man puts a set of keys on the counter and says something in Russian to Volodya before giving me a smile. He’s beautiful, but he doesn’t make my heart race like his boss does. I smile and flip the omelet.
“Hi, I’m Nikolai,” he says, ignoring Volodya’s stern look and giving me a wink.
“Hi, I’m Maddie. Do you want some breakfast?”
Before he can answer, Volodya says something in Russian that makes Nikolai laugh. Nikolai turns back to me and says, “Thanks, but I need to get going. I just came with Ilya to drop something off.”
“I’ll be right back,” Volodya says before grabbing the keys and going out the front door.
“I am going to grab a quick cup of coffee, though,” Nikolai says, helping himself to everything he needs.
I study the intricate designs on his arms. “Those are really good,” I tell him. I may not know much about tattoos, but even I can see the talent behind those.
“Thank you.” He gives me a big smile. “I did them myself. I do all the tattoos for the Bratva.” He eyes my bare skin. “I could do one for you, if you want. Anyone who’s connected to the Bratva gets them for free.”
“Oh, I’m not connected like that. I’m just here to cook and clean.”
Nikolai laughs and leans against the counter while I flip the bacon. “If Volodya invited you into his home, then that means you’re under his protection. You are connected to this Bratva, Maddie. You were the second you agreed to work for him. Actually, I’d say you were the second you stepped foot in this house. He never brings anyone here.”
“So you’re pretty good friends with him?” I ask, hoping maybe I can get some more info on my new boss.
“Can anyone be friends with a bear?” he answers cryptically. He shrugs and adds, “I guess I am as much as any one person can be, but I’m fully aware of the fact that he could choose to turn around and rip my fucking head off. Some people are just a little more feral than others, and Volodya definitely pushes those boundaries. He always has.”
The sound of the front door has Nikolai closing his mouth. He gives me another wink as Volodya walks in. This time when he says something in Russian, Nikolai moves his ass and starts to leave, meeting up with another man at the front door who I’m guessing is Ilya. He gives me a quick nod before turning to leave.
“Let me know if you decide you want a tattoo, Maddie,” Nikolai hollers out to me.
