Looking at the sleeping form of the small woman who fits perfectly in the curve of my body, I make a mental note to find out more about her past. No, not more. Everything. I want to know all of it.
With that resolution, I finally fall asleep.
* * *
It’s early when I wake. I try not to disturb Mina, but her eyes open when I stir. She stretches and flinches.
My body heats at the recollection of why her muscles are sore. I want to do that to her again. And again. But I restrain myself. I can at least give her until tonight to recover. Besides, I have a hit to focus on. I shouldn’t be spending hours in bed, behaving like a sex addict.
I sit up. “Can I get you something? A painkiller?”
“I just need a shower.”
She throws off the covers and swings her legs over the bed. I lean back against the headboard, intent on enjoying the show, but when she gets up and flashes me with a view of her ass, I still, the heat in my veins turning cold.
Her beautiful, pale skin is marred with bruises. On her sides, her ass, her thighs. Everywhere I fucking touched her. Self-directed anger combusts in my chest. I hate those marks on her. I hate spoiling her flawless skin. I hate knowing I hurt her like that.
She looks at me from over her shoulder. “What?”
Her gaze follows mine, slipping down to her ass and legs. Her face turns paper white, her delicate skin even more translucent than normal.
“Mina.” I grate out the words. “I didn’t realize I was so rough.”
She plasters on a smile. “It’s nothing.”
I jump from the bed, walking to her with long strides. “It’s not.” Gripping her shoulders, I turn her to face me. “I want you to tell me if I hurt you.”
“You didn’t hurt me.”
“I’ll be more careful.”
She pulls away. “It’ll fade.”
When she tries to escape to the bathroom, I go after her. I don’t know who’s more upset, her or me. She has more reason, that’s for sure.
I can’t stop beating myself up as I get into the shower with her and take the shampoo from her hand. I wash her tiny scalp, so small I can crack it like a nut. So fragile, and I ruined her.
I try to make it up to her by being extra gentle as I wash her. To smooth over my error by kissing her gently while massaging her shoulders under the running water. I’ve never taken responsibility for a woman before, and I’m already fucking it up.
She dresses while I shave. After, I take her to the kitchen for breakfast.
Anton is drinking coffee by the counter. Ilya is sitting at the table with a stack of toast in front of him.
Seeing us, my brother jumps up and pulls out a chair. “Sit here, Mina.”
I didn’t like that she ate like a servant in the kitchen last night, so I overlook Ilya’s eagerness to make her comfortable.
“Want some toast?” he asks. “Here. I’ll butter it.”
I grab a piece from his plate and take a bite on my way to the kitchen. “It’s cold. I’ll make fresh ones.”
Mina smiles at Ilya. “You’re sweet.”
“Sweet?” He tries to make a mean face, but the idiot is grinning like a cartoon cat.
“Like a teddy bear,” she says.
Anton snort-laughs.
“I like teddy bears,” Ilya throws back over his shoulder at Anton.
I pop bread in the toaster and pour two cups of coffee.
“We’ve got a site for the meeting with Dimitrov in mind,” Anton says.
I drop a cube of sugar in each cup. “Where?”
“Hotel Paris,” he says. “It’s one of Natasha Petrova’s favorite hangouts. She often dines at the Sarah Bernhardt restaurant.” He grins. “And what’s more appropriate than setting up a meeting to sell a stolen masterpiece in the Gustave Klimt suite?”
I rub a hand over my chin. “Security will be top notch.”
Anton nods. “Ilya and I want to go check it out this morning.”
“If the government puts pressure on the hotel manager to play along, security shouldn’t be a problem,” Ilya says. “We’ll only have to worry about Dimitrov’s guards.”
“We better be sure we can trust the manager.” Many high-end professionals here are in cahoots with the crime groups. “I’ll get our hackers on the case to see what background information they can find. Meet us in the bar before lunch. I’d like to get a feel for the place.”
“Thanks,” Mina says when I hand her a warm slice of toast and a cup of coffee.
By the time Mina and I are done eating, Anton and Ilya are on their way.
“Need anything from town, Mina?” Ilya asks. “I didn’t get too many clothes. I wasn’t sure about the size.”
“No, thanks,” I say flatly. “We’ll shop on the way.”
Ilya grabs his jacket from the chair back and stomps after Anton. When the door closes, Mina gets up and starts clearing the table. I study her closely. She’s been quiet. The marks on her body bother her. She says otherwise, but the frown on her pretty forehead hasn’t smoothed out since she saw the bruises.
“Come here,” I say.
She walks to my chair like an obedient girl.
I hand her the phone that the guys who delivered her to us had taken off her. I made sure it’s charged and not bugged. “Call your friends.” When she unlocks the screen, I grab her hand. “On speakerphone.”
She calls and explains
