She looks like coming home after a long day.
Her serenity evaporates in record time. Her eyes are wide as saucers, spotting Leo on the couch. “Oh my God!” she exclaims, rushing right past me. “What the hellhappened?”
She drops to her knees beside him. His ankle is so swollen you can see it through his pant leg.
I scowl as she grazes her fingers over it, so gentle with him. So fucking sweet.
“Living that bratva life,” I sigh, making my way to the kitchen to fetch Leo some ice.
“It’s just a sprain,” Leonid tells her.
Janella follows after me. “Have you iced it?” she asks. I shoot her a look, holding up the icepack. “We should elevate it! Maybe we should take him to the hospital? Ivan is no nurse, you know.”
Behind us, Leonid fucking laughs. “I like this. Yes, good—dote on me, sister-in-law.”
I whip around to glare at him.
He tries not to laugh, that motherfucker.
Don’t start,I warn him telepathically.
Janella misses our exchange. Before I can say a word, she’s disappeared down the hall. When she returns, it’s laden with all manner of supplies, including the first-aid kit from her first night here. She takes the icepack from me and walks away.
Startled, I catch a bottle of vodka under her arm.
She definitely got that from my office.
“For the pain,” she says to Leo, and holds out the bottle to him.
She brings the same care to this as she brings to everything else. I watch her prop up his foot on cushions and inch up his pant leg. She wraps the icepack in a towel and daintily presses it to the swollen mess. She murmurs sugar-sweet apologies to him when he winces.
My brother is looking at her with unadulterated warmth and appreciation.
A dragon breathes flames in the pit of my stomach.
I can’t say a word as she fusses over him. Not even when she turns and asks me, “Have either of you had anything to eat? I can whip something up?”
I shake my head.
I swallow the urge to smack my brother when he squeezes her arm. “Thank you. If you don’t mind, I’m more of a whiskey man,” he says, and holds up the unopened vodka.
Janella eagerly pads off to get him some.
I stare at Leonid, baffled. He loves vodka. “What the fuck?”
“Nothing. I’ve just never seen you down bad like this before.” He bites back a smile. “It’s nice.”
The tips of my ear heat. I can’t stomach the canny glint in his eyes. Disgruntled and exposed, frustration bubbles up inside me. It isn’t like I’m a lovestruck schoolboy doodling her name in my binder. What the fuck is his problem?
“She’s not even my fucking type, man,” I burst out. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I like a woman I can fuck the shit out of. Does my pretty angel of a wife strike you as that?”
“Are you telling me you haven’t—”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you! That’s not why I fucking married her. You didn’t see her that night. I had to save her and protect her. That doesn’t mean it’s like that between us. She’s a sweetheart—but come on.” I choke out a hoarse laugh. “A girl like that wouldn’t know what to do with me.”
I don’t know what to do with her. Her goodness. How fucking amazing she is.
A vision of her comes unbidden. Standing in my bedroom doorway, hunger in her eyes—watching me touch myself.
