“Absolutely.”
I squinted at him. “You’re extremely stubborn.”
Sasha grinned. “Glad you noticed.”
“And possessive.”
“Careful, baby. I might think you’re into me with how much attention you’re paying to me.”
I rolled my eyes. “And mildly unhinged.”
He shrugged. “Only mildly.”
Sasha rolled out of bed, walked past me toward the chair in the corner. He grabbed one of his shirts out of his bag and tossed it in my direction.
“Put this on.”
I caught it automatically and examined it for a moment before pulling it over my head. The fabric dropped halfway down my thighs, which I wasn’t mad about considering the lack of shorts underneath it.
When I looked back up, Sasha had gone very still. His eyes moved slowly from my legs to my face, and the air in the room shifted.
“You can wear this for now.”
I quirked a brow, the corner of my mouth twitching. “That was the plan.”
“And nothing else.” He raked his hungry gaze over my body, the heat in his eyes almost palpable.
“Well I wasn’t planning to accessorize,” I quipped, deliberately misunderstanding his comment to wind him up.
His hand brushed briefly against my hip as he passed. “Good.”
The villa’s large, open kitchen was filled with sunlight — a bright, airy space making it hard to believe several armed men lived somewhere on the property.
Coffee was already brewing, and the ocean glittered through the tall windows.
Kyrill was sitting at the long kitchen island, eating eggs with such intense focus, you would have thought he was convinced his breakfast was going to escape any second.
He looked up as we walked in, his sharp gaze landing on me. One eyebrow rose slowly, almost artistically, when he took in my attire.
His eyes moved to Sasha, then back to me.
“Well,” Kyrill drawled.
I slid onto one of the stools and shot him a bright smile. “Good morning to you, too.”
“You already doing this couple shi— stuff?”
“It’s just a shirt.”
“It ishisshirt.” Kyrill pointed his fork at the hulking figure behind me.
Sasha casually rested his hand on my shoulder, his fingers brushing the side of my neck in an absent, territorial way suggesting he was unaware of what he was doing and had no intention of stopping.
He knewexactlywhat he was doing.
“She looks good in it.”
Kyrill took a slow sip of coffee, regarding us over the rim of his mug. “That is not the issue.”