Sins He Taught Me - Nicole Fox Page 0,64

the door and go in search of her. I’m curious about what her father said to her in private. They spoke for a long time while I was upstairs with Nikolas.

She’s in the laundry room, tossing clothes in the washer and then grabbing Nikolas’s clean shirts from a previous load to fold them. I clear my throat and she gives a start, glancing up at me.

“Did you have a good talk with your dad?” I ask.

“It was nice, yes. Thank you for letting him come by and stay for so long. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until he got here.”

“What did you talk about?”

Her gaze shifts back to the tiny T-shirt in her hands. While she folds, she says, “Nothing really. He told me about work. About how he’s trying to get cleaned up so that this, uh, problem won’t happen again.”

The way her lips purse, I can easily see she’s holding something back. They discussed something she doesn’t want to repeat to me, and I’m tempted to press the issue.

Instead, I say, “Don’t worry about that,” pulling one of Nikolas’s socks from her hand. “I’ll have the housekeeper take care of this.”

“But—”

“Have a drink with me.”

She blinks. “No, I shouldn’t. I have to finish the laundry and get everything ready for Nikolas tomorrow.”

“It wasn’t a request.”

Victoria sighs and puts down the clothes in her hands. “Okay.”

In the living room, I reach for my favorite bottle of whiskey and pour two tumblers, dropping a few cubes of ice in each of them. When I hand a glass to Victoria, she lifts a hand and takes it.

She takes a sip. As soon as it hits her tongue, her face contorts and she lets out a small noise of displeasure. Despite her nerves and my irritation with Daniel, I crack a smile.

“How are your burns doing?” I ask, looking at the hand that’s bandaged.

“They’re doing fine. I should probably change the bandage soon. The doctor said the wound needs to be checked frequently for the first few days, just to make sure the healing process is going alright.”

I leave her in the living room for a moment and head into the kitchen to grab some of the supplies I had delivered on the way home. New bandages and the priciest bottle of aloe vera gel I could find. When I return, Victoria is standing by the fireplace, filling her glass up to the brim.

I raise an eyebrow, and she shrugs.

“Come here.”

Obediently, Victoria takes a seat on the couch next to me. She holds out her hand for me, and carefully, I unwrap the bandages around her palm. The burn looks nasty and it must hurt, but I keep my face neutral.

The skin on the back of her hand is soft, a stark contrast to her ruined palm. I look up at her. “I’m going to put this on the burn. You might want to take another sip when I start.”

“Okay.” She brings the glass to her lips, and when she begins drinking, I smooth the cooling gel over her hand. Victoria winces and closes her eyes, but she doesn’t pull away or snatch her hand back. I draw small circles with my fingers, spreading it out evenly.

“How is that?”

“It’s okay,” she murmurs, drinking again.

When the gel is on, I wipe my hands and begin wrapping more gauze around her, tearing a piece of medical tape with my teeth and securing the bandage around her wrist. Her eyes never leave mine.

“Thank you, Matvei.”

If I’m being honest, the way she says my name still hits me differently than anyone else. There’s a different emotion behind it. Hesitation and intrigue twined together.

We sit in silence for quite some time, neither of us saying anything between sips of the whiskey. I watch the tension in her body slowly start to fade, and it’s almost amusing how quickly she slouches against the sofa, her eyes glazing over.

“You’re already drunk,” I say, laughing quietly.

“No, I’m not,” she argues. She turns her head towards me, and it’s written all over her face. “Okay, maybe I am.”

“Do you drink whiskey often?”

“No,” she says. “I don’t drink at all. This is my first time.”

“Your very first time?”

“Yep.” She sloshes the amber liquid around in the tumbler. “Dad’s alcoholism was a pretty good reason not to even try this stuff. Addictions like that can run in the family, and I don’t want to be like him. I like having control. I like knowing exactly what I’m doing and having

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