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Anastasia Lenkov wants to live a normal life as a nurse after escaping her old, brutal life. But her past keeps catching up with her. She is on the run from the Russian mafia, because her father, the boss, will n...
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Slowly, the orange rays of the sun stretched across the still dark sky. My gaze followed how the until recently gloomy morning was replaced by the bright sun and illuminated the landscape overgrown with green plants.
I sat on the wide windowsill; my face close to the window glass. A sigh left my lips and I averted my eyes from the scene that was unfolding before me.
I looked down at myself, my bare legs kneeling on the cold windowsill, which sent a shivering chill through my body. A too-big white dress shirt, whose expensive fabric was wrinkled, and black lingerie kept the cool air away from my body, which seeped into the room through an open window.
My gaze settled on the bed after I had turned around on the windowsill. A tattooed back packed with muscles came into my field of vision and I stared at Antonio - the owner of the dress shirt I was wearing. It ended just above my knees, the first few buttons were undone and I had the sleeves rolled up to my wrists.
It was early in the morning and what I had been trying to avoid for 3 years was happening today. We would fly back to Russia. To the country where I grew up.
I continued to watch as the Italian exhaled deeply and he stretched. His muscles flexed as he stretched out an arm and placed it on the other side of the bed. The side of the bed I had been lying on until 30 minutes ago.
His hand lightly scanned the empty side of the bed and a slight groan escaped his throat when he didn't find what he had apparently been looking for.
The many thin blankets rustled as he rolled over on the bed and his face turned in the direction of the window. In my direction.
He blinked slightly as he looked against the sun and when he found what he was looking for he closed his eyes and dropped his face into the pillow.
"Come back to me. To bed." He grumbled out in his far too deep voice, half muffled by the pillow his face was pressed against.
A small smile stole onto my lips and I slowly slid down from the windowsill until my feet touched the floor. The sound of my bare feet on the cold flooring echoed through the room until I reached the bed.
I climbed onto the soft bed and before I could do anything a firm arm covered in black tattoos wrapped around me and pulled me against a hard body. A soft chuckle erupted from me as Antonio pulled me on top of him and nuzzled my head against his chest.
"Five more minutes." He murmured against my hair.
"Antonio Ramirez." I warned as I tried to move my head and sit up so I could look him in the eye. When I finally did, I stared at his closed eyes. "We have to go, didn't you say the plane leaves early in the morning?" I whispered.
A grumble ran through his body, I felt the vibration on his stomach, on which I was leaning. Not a second later he opened his eyes. Bright gray like a rainy night mixed with the blue from the deep ocean as his gaze met mine. God, I sound like a poet.
