Conquered Bride (Belaya Bratva 1)

Or was it something more? Something telling me that I didn’t want to be back in LA?

I turned on the water and grabbed the washcloth that had been placed by the sink, wetting it to run over my face and the back of my neck. Whatever it was, it had to go away. I wasn’t in the mood for throwing up today.

The nausea dissipated as I felt the landing gear lower and hurried to the main cabin, where Gavril was already seated. After slipping on my shoes, I fell into the seat next to him, buckling my seat belt.

“Record time,” I said lightly.

The wheels touched down just as the last word left my mouth, and Gavril arched a brow. “Not a minute too soon either.”

Sticking out my tongue, I was rewarded with a sexy grin from my husband. I had to keep this going. I had to keep this lightness between us because I was so afraid that if I didn’t, I would lose him completely.

Once the plane taxied to the hangar, Gavril stood and I gathered my bag, following him to the pilots, where Gavril greeted them both with a firm handshake. He then took my hand and helped me down the stairs to where a dark sedan was waiting. “Ivan,” I replied warmly as I saw Gavril’s driver, Ivan Popov, waiting by the back door.

“Mrs. Kirilenko,” he acknowledged with a warm smile of his own. “Welcome back.”

“Ivan,” Gavril replied, coming up behind me.

“Pakhan,” he responded, inclining his head as he opened the door. “Welcome home.”

I slid inside and Gavril followed, Ivan shutting the door behind us. Gavril immediately pulled out his cell phone, and I tried not to lose the hope that I had found earlier. Of course he had things to attend to. I couldn’t be the center of his attention all the time.

I just wished that the happiness could have lasted just a little longer between us.