Marriage of Inconvenience by Alexandra Isobel

Author:Alexandra Isobel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: interracial romance, multicultural romance, military romance, alpha hero romance, bwwm romance
Publisher: Alexandra Isobel
Published: 2022-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter SEVEN

Marcus walked into the kitchen and inhaled the smoky scent of freshly brewed caravan tea. Unable to resist, he set down his rifle case and picked up one of the gold bottom and glass teacups from the tray Samara now kept on the centre island. He reached for the smaller tea pot that sat on top of the antique samovar, a kettle that had belonged to her great grandmother and poured some of the zavarka, tea concentrate into his cup. This was the best way to make Russian tea, the old way, by boiling down the leaves until they're thick enough to hold a standing spoon. Then, add fresh boiling water to reduce the concentrate to taste. He inhaled the fragrant blend of leaves before he put the cup beneath the samovar's spigot and turned on the boiling hot flow. He liked his tea strong and uncomfortably hot, so immediately twisted off the tap and grabbed a few warm sushki from the breadbasket she had also left warming on the stove.

Unable to help a smile, he leaned against the counter as he dunked a mini bagel shaped breads into his tea, feeling like he was ten years old again and standing in his baba’s kitchen. His grandmother made Russian tea and fresh sweet breads every morning before dawn while he was growing up.

He looked toward the bathroom, listening to Samara in the shower. As usual, his dick twitched in his pants, thinking about her naked under the water. He'd forgotten how good a cook she was, and good food never failed to turn him on. She'd learned to make both traditional Russian and African American dishes from both of her grandmothers growing up, but he knew for a fact that old Russian women were known to bewitch their husbands meals with a spell, for punishment or passion depending on what she felt he deserved at the time.

He looked down the hallway, his lowest appendage increasingly restless. He wouldn't put it past Samara to have put some kind of punishment spell on his tea. She'd done it before and for less reason than him cutting her hair and giving her a full dressing down for her impulsive behaviour. He set down his cup and put his case on the counter.

The men in his family had all been shooters, either in the First World War or the second. And they were all good. Natural hunters and snipers who passed on the skill from one generation to the next like an heirloom. He never really had a choice in his chosen of vocation. From the moment of conception, all boys of his clan were expected to serve in the military as shooters.

The water in the bathroom stopped, and someone pounded against his front door. He zipped up his case and walked barefoot through the house. When he pulled open the door his body caught fire. The four men who stood in front of him violently vibrated as his muscles contracted and convulsed for several agonizing seconds before he hit the ground like a freshly felled tree.

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