Free Sasha & Andriena #1 (Lovers & Sinners) by Marita A. Hansen Page A

future in medicine. Now, all she was offered was derision and
no promise of a future at all.
    She continued, “Do
you know how hard it is going from being extremely intelligent to dumb just
like that?”
    “It would be
horrible,” Sasha replied, no longer looking angry, his expression instead full
of curiosity.
    She nodded. “It was,
and still is. People call me a ditz, a moron, stupid, airhead, birdbrain ,”
she emphasized the word he’d used, his derision having hurt her, “the list goes
on.”
    He grimaced. “I’m
sorry for saying that.”
    Her eyebrows shot up.
“Did you actually apologize to me?”
    His grimace grew.
“I’ve apologized once before, so don’t make a big deal about it or I’ll take it
back.”
    She smiled, amused by
his embarrassed gruffness. “I much prefer you like this.”
    “Like what?”
    “Nice.”
    “I’m far from nice,
woman.”
    “Can you stop calling
me that?”
    “It’s what you are.”
    “But not who I am.
Please call me Andriena.”
    “Fine, Andriena .”
    “ Grazie , I
mean, thank you.”
    “You don’t have to
translate for me.”
    “Oh,” she said,
remembering he knew Italian. “Looks like I should apologize too.”
    “For what?”
    “For saying those
nasty words to you the other day.”
    “I deserved them.”
    Her smile resurfaced.
“Well, maybe the part about your balls swiveling into raisins.”
    He tensed.
    “Ah... I didn’t mean
anything by it,” she said, not understanding his upset reaction. “It was just a
joke.”
    He didn’t reply, still
looking upset.
    “You want to see my
scars?” she asked, hoping to distract him.
    His upset expression
dropped, curiosity once again lighting his gray eyes. “What scars?”
    “The ones from the
car accident.” She leaned her head down and parted her hair. “This is only one
of many on my head. If I was bald, you’d think Freddy Krueger had attacked me.”
    “Who?”
    She let go of her
hair and looked up. “The villain from A Nightmare on Elm Street .”
    “I don’t know him,
and what’s the nightmare thing?”
    “A famous film.”
    “The only films I was
permitted to watch were educational ones or the videos the Black Russian produces,
like what’s being filmed now.” He made a face. “I said the wrong thing again,
didn’t I?”
    “It’s not your fault,”
she replied, surprised he was being so nice.
    “Can we stop talking?”
he said, shifting about in his seat, looking uncomfortable again. “I’d rather
eat.”
    She nodded. “Sure.”
    She reached across
the table and picked up his spoon, dipping it into the porridge in front of
him. She scooped some up and held it out for him to eat. He closed his lips around
the spoon, drawing her attention to his mouth again. He had the most sensual
lips, full and nibble worthy, a real treat to look at.
    He moved his head
back, swallowing the porridge down. “You can move the spoon back,” he said,
making her realize she was still holding it out, his lips having distracted
her.
    She retracted it, relieved
he hadn’t snapped at her for staring again.
    Ignoring the brioche,
he leaned across the table and picked up her plastic fork, spearing some cubed
fruit. He dipped it in the container of yogurt and held it out for her to eat.
She wrapped her lips around the food and pulled it off the fork, amused he was doing
the same thing as she had.
    She swallowed the
food down. “You can move the fork back,” she said, licking her lips to
emphasize her point.
    A blush hit his cheeks
again, causing a thrill to race through her. She’d never understood why her
sisters liked to tease men—to tempt them, to play with them—until now, this new
found control she felt over Sasha empowering.
    He dropped his hand
and speared some more fruit, dipping it in the yogurt again. “I was just
waiting for you to finish,” he said, lifting the fork back up.
    Not believing him,
she took another bite, feeling a dribble of yogurt running down her chin. Before
she could