Alessia leans against me, her shoulder pressing against mine. “I like you, too, Vlad.”
Shock registers before the pleasure that blooms in my chest.
“When you’re not being a dick.”
One of those unexpected laughs bursts out of me.
Christ, I don’t know when I’ve laughed last. I never laugh. Like Mika, I grew up too fast. I don’t remember when or if play and laughter were part of my experience.
Yet here I am under the wide blue sky with the most beautiful, easy to be with girl on the planet.
Laughing.
It doesn’t feel real.
Chapter 11
Alessia
“Alessia.”
I don’t think Mika’s used my name before. I’m glad he’s warming up. We had our morning study session and then he disappeared for a while. Now he’s shown back up in the living room. He crooks a finger at me. “Want to see something?”
Does the Pope wear a pointy hat? I’m bored out of my skull locked up here. Vlad’s been working all day in his office. I scramble off the comfortable easy chair I’d settled into. “Yes. Da.” I’ve started on my Rosetta Stone Russian lessons. I wish I could just download the language into my head like they do skills in The Matrix.
I follow Mika to the back wing of the mansion. To what appears to be more of the “servant’s quarters.” Zoya’s domain.
Mika takes me into the laundry room and points. There, bounding in and out of a wicker laundry basket full of towels, is a litter of black and white kittens. Their tiny mews make me laugh.
“Awwww,” I exclaim, crouching down to pet a tiny head with my index finger. “They’re so sweet.” I pick one up and hold it to my chest. It starts purring immediately. “Is the mama cat Vlad’s?”
“I don’t know.”
Zoya comes in, her expression severe as always. She says a few harsh words to Mika.
“She says she has to get rid of them before Vlad finds out. I think the mama is hers.”
I grab the laundry basket protectively. “No way she’s getting rid of them.” I pick it up. “Ask her if I can keep them.”
Mika’s eyebrows shoot up. “All of them?”
I don’t really want to keep all of them, but annoying Vlad is my only diversion these days. I think having five rambunctious little kittens tearing around his bedroom is a perfect way to drive him crazy. “Da,” I say.
I am perfectly willing to go up against him on this issue, even if Zoya isn’t.
Mika says something to Zoya who looks at me doubtfully.
I kick up my chin. “The kittens are coming to my room,” I announce. “Vlad can deal.” Maybe I can use this as a bargaining chip to get my own bedroom. Lord knows sharing a bed with Vlad is a dangerous proposition. If we have a repeat of the other night’s performance featuring his tongue between my legs, I won’t be able to resist him.
“Will you ask Zoya to bring a litter box to my bedroom?” I ask Mika as I breeze out the door carrying the kittens.
I leave Mika and Zoya discussing the situation in the laundry room.
In the bedroom, I close the door, turn on the television and let the kittens explore. They are the cutest things I’ve ever seen and they totally brighten my day. Even if I hadn’t wanted to annoy Vlad, having them in the room is a delight.
Zoya installs the litter box in the en suite bathroom. I can’t understand what she’s saying, but there is much hand-wringing and clucking about it. She’s definitely worried about Vlad’s reaction.
“Don’t worry,” I tell her in English. “I’ll handle Vlad.”
She catches his name and bobs her head, talking some more. Finally, she leaves.
I sit on the bed and watch TV, holding various kittens on my lap. When Vlad comes in, there’s one on my shoulder, one on my chest and two in my lap. The fifth one is curled up on Vlad’s pillow.
He stops short. “What…?”
I smile broadly. “You have kittens! I’m keeping them all.”
The kitten on my shoulder is batting at my hair. I laugh and pet her.
I expected Vlad to be annoyed. Instead, his expression softens and he just gazes at me for a moment. “That’s cute,” he says, surprising me.
“Aren’t they?”
He shakes his head, his lips curving into a slight smile. “Not them. You. You with them. Very cute.”
I’m taken aback. “So I can keep them?”
“Da, printsessa. Whatever makes you happy.”
“Can I get a puppy, too?” I press.
He just grins. “Now you’re just testing me. Do you even want a puppy?”
“Maybe not until the kitties have grown up a bit,” I concede.
Vlad’s smile grows even warmer. The lines on his face, softer. He’s a different man like this—younger and more handsome. Almost boyish.
I pick up the kitten on my chest and hold it out to him. “Hold one. They’re so sweet.”
“Okay.” He’s so agreeable. He takes the kitten and puts him on his chest, rubbing under its chin to make it purr.