Page 93 of The Pakhans’ Curvy Prize

"As long as it takes to make sure nobody's watching the property." I lean back against the cushions, studying her profile. "Could be twenty minutes. Could be an hour." I pause. "We'll wait outside all fucking night long if we feel it necessary."

She nods but doesn't relax. Her hands are clasped tightly in her lap, her knuckles white as she clutches and releases her fingers over and over. I reach over and cover both her hands with one of mine, stilling the nervous movement.

"He was right there," she says suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Looking through my window. Watching me."

"I know."

"What if he comes back?"

"Then he'll be extremely sorry." My voice comes out harder than I intend, but I don't soften it.

She turns to look at me, her blue eyes searching my face. A sharp pain punctures my chest, near where my heart is supposed to be located. I take a deep breath, unfamiliar with the feeling. I'm not supposed to care this much for someone, especially a woman outside the Bratva. I didn't even know I was capable of such a useless emotion.

Time passes slowly. The cottage settles around us with small creaks and groans. Outside, I can hear Russ and Nick moving through the woods, their footsteps crunching over fallen leaves and branches. They're being thorough.

Marla eventually leans against me, her head resting on my shoulder. The gesture is unconscious, seeking comfort without thinking about it. I don't pull away.

"This is insane," she murmurs.

"Yeah."

"A week ago, I was worried about meeting deadlines and paying bills. Now I'm hiding from a stalker ex-boyfriend whose father is apparently on the mafia payroll."

"Life comes at you fast."

She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "That's one way to put it."

The front door opens, and both Russ and Nick step back inside. Their expressions are grim but not alarmed. No immediate threats, then.

"All clear," Russ says, shrugging out of his jacket.

Marla sits up straighter, pulling away from me. "So what happens now?"

"Now, we take our—or rather your—mind off things," Russ says with a wicked grin. He looks at Nick and me.

The sexual implication is clear, and I couldn't agree more. Marla really needs the distraction—we all do—and there's no better way than a few hours of sex.

Nick moves toward the bedroom without a word. Russ follows and I stand and offer Marla my hand. She takes it, her fingers cold against mine.

The bedroom is dimly lit by the lamp on the nightstand. Nick is already checking the window locks again while Russ sits on the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots.

Marla stands in the doorway, uncertain but also clearly turned on. I keep from grinning. She may still feel a bit uncomfortable with our weird situation, but she also finds it exciting. I move behind her, my hands settling on her hips. She leans back against me immediately and I catch a whiff of her shampoo.

"You need to stop thinking," I murmur against her ear.

"I can't."

"Then we'll help you."

She turns in my arms, her blue eyes meeting mine. There's heat there now, mixing with the fear and uncertainty. "Alex..."

I don't let her finish. I kiss her, hard and demanding, swallowing whatever she was about to say. Her hands come up to grip my shirt, holding on like I'm the only solid thing in her world right now.

When I pull back, her breathing is uneven. "Better?"

"Getting there." A slight smile tugs at her lips.

Russ appears beside us, his hand sliding into Marla's hair and tilting her head back. "We've got you," he says quietly. "Stop fighting it."