Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
There's something more at play here. But tonight, I don't care.
Tonight I want pizza and a good night’s sleep.
"I'm building you a safe room," he says over the sound of running water.
What is he doing in there? Drawing a bath?
"I'll have surveillance cameras and reinforced walls, so if there's any type of threat, you retreat there."
His home is already an absolute bastion of safety. But whatever floats his boat.
“Alright, honey,” I say on a yawn.
When I’m in bed, I’m thinking over how quickly things can change. This morning, I was convinced I had food poisoning. Tonight, I was convinced Volkov poisoned me, and now, I know that one of my greatest fears has actually come true.
I'm pregnant. There's a baby knitting in my womb at this very minute and my overprotective husband is going to lose his mind.
I lie against the pile of pillows in bed and note that I’m practically floating on them.
"Mikhail? Are there more pillows in here?"
"Of course," he says over his shoulder, his accent thickening. "I called ahead of time and made sure staff put everything you need in here. There's a body pillow, pregnancy pillows, blankets if you need them, and a call button next to the bed if for some strange reason I’m not here and you need anything else."
Okay, so now he's getting out of control. But for now, I'm not going to argue because these pillows are quite nice.
“You move fast,” I say with appreciation.
He shrugs. “It’s what I do. What kind of pizza do you want, my love?" he asks from the bathroom. The scent of lavender fills the air. It smells so nice.
"Wherever you got that thin-crust one with the really crispy edges. Pepperoni, please."
"Anything else?"
"My husband here so I can snuggle with him a little bit?" I ask, testing the waters. He peers in the doorway, a boyish smile on his face, his hands anchored on his hips.
"A snuggle? Do I really look like the type that will snuggle?"
He is absolutely the type that will snuggle, we just can't admit that out loud.
He walks over to me, holding my gaze the entire time, and my heart does a somersault in my chest. When he comes to the bed, he leans down and kisses me. Unlike the usual kiss he gives me, with his hand gripping my neck and my entire body suffused in sensuality, this is a gentle kiss. Just a brush of his lips to mine.
"First, a bath. I want to erase the memory of tonight from your mind and mine.” His voice has softened. What will fatherhood do to Mikhail Romanov?
I feared that I would fall for him, and now...
I love this man.
The realization doesn't shock me, as I’d think it would, because I've known for a little while now. I don't do anything in halfsies, and neither does he. My commitment to him, the intimacy we've forged under fire, the knowledge that who I am matters to him — all of it. I’ve not only fallen head over heels in love with a criminal…I’m having his baby.
I can’t think of that now.
"Bath sounds quite nice, provided it's followed with—"
"Pizza. I know. It's already on its way, my love."
My love. It's new, this little endearment. And he also has little Russian phrases for me. I kind of miss little hacker.
The oversized tub is filled about halfway with suds and steam that smells like lavender. I sink under the hot water, submerging myself fully to my chin. "Are you going to join me?"
"You think I want to smell like lavender?” he asks, crouching beside the tub.
“As if you care. Ha!”
He smiles at me and tweaks a lock of damp hair. “I have a few things to do. I'll join you for pizza.”
I hear him on the phone in the other room. He's making lists, barking out commands to his team, likely his brothers.
I don't exactly know what he's doing right now, but I hear the phrase, "the best doctors possible," and another phrase, "research the safest equipment." Equipment? I sink under the bubbles for a few seconds. When I come to the surface, my Mikhail is still talking on the phone.
I lie in billows of scented bubbles until I hear a knock on the door. "Our pizza has arrived."
Mikhail helps me out of the bath and towels me off. By now I am used to the way he likes to take care of me, as long as I know I can also take care of myself.
"You can have whatever you want, Aria,” he says as he leads me to bed. "But I do have a team putting together the best dietary plans for a pregnant woman as well. I will make sure that our chef has everything that you need prepared."
I smile. "You're sweet."
He makes a face like he just ate rotten fruit. "I'm not sweet. Are you crazy?"