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Authors: Roxie Rivera

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So far the beast had proven to be a good fit for the family. Vee utterly adored Stasi, and the dog seemed completely infatuated with her and intensely curious about her pregnant belly. Nikolai had watched the dog interact with children at the dog park where Vee liked to take him for socialization. He was gentle and sweet, but he had the instincts of a protector. Watching him chase Ilya off the front porch the first morning he had been in their home had been worth every penny Nikolai had paid for the dog.

Stasi nudged his hip in search of a pat, and Nikolai granted it but only after sternly eyeing the dog who promptly sat like the well-trained dog he was. “No bed. No furniture. Yes?”

The dog snorted and padded out of the room, probably to hop up onto one of the couches in the living room. Boychenko would have a hell of a time getting Stasi off the sofa if the dog decided to plant himself on it.

Shaking his head at Stasi’s antics, he asked, “Vee? Are you ready?”

“No.”

He grew concerned when he heard the sad, tearful sound of her answer. He followed her voice to the master closet where he found her wearing only a bathrobe and hot rollers as she stood in front of a pile of her favorite shoes. Tears glistened in her beautiful blue eyes when she lifted her head to glance at him. His chest tightened painfully. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Lower lip wobbling, she cried, “My shoes don’t fit!”

“What do you mean they don’t fit?” He stared at the pile of haphazardly tossed heels and flats and wondered how in the world a year’s worth of purchases could no longer fit her.

“My feet are fat and gross.” She burst into tears that stunned him. “My hands are fat. My wedding ring hardly fits anymore. And I broke out this morning!” Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed loudly and damn near broke his heart. “I’m a hot freaking mess!”


Sladest!
” He crossed the space between them in quick strides and gathered her in his arms. Even at nine months pregnant, she was still light enough that he could easily lift her up and carry her if he wanted. “You are
not
fat. You’re
pregnant
.”

He knew she didn’t mean any of that. She had never been the type of woman who cared about weight or who thought a woman’s worth was based on the size printed in her jeans. But the hormones were making her so overly emotional lately!

The hot rollers in her hair made kissing her forehead awkward so he noisily kissed her cheek instead and rubbed her lower back. He let his hand slide along the curve of her spine and the plump lushness of her bottom. Giving her a playful pat, he said, “Even if you gained two hundred pounds, I would still love you.”

Wondering just what she had on under that robe, he kissed her neck and slipped his hands under the fabric. When he encountered only warm, naked skin, he smiled lasciviously and nipped at her throat. He enjoyed the way she shivered in his arms and grabbed two very greedy handfuls of her lush bottom. “And I’d still want to fuck you every night and every morning.”

“Kolya!”

“You know it’s true.” He claimed her pouty mouth in a long, tender kiss. After everything she had endured and overcome in her life, Vee possessed a well of inner strength that rivaled his own. She was brilliantly talented, so unbelievably beautiful and held him right in the palm of her small hand. Her love had healed him and given him the courage to dream of a life that had always seemed impossible. Everything that was good in his life existed because of her.

But, over the summer, that bullshit with Tatiana had rattled her confidence. Hypersensitive to her bruised feelings, he had been overly attentive to her. He never wanted her to doubt his devotion and loyalty to her—and
only
her. Vee was the absolute and uncontested love of his life.

Even though he was blind to other women, that didn’t stop them from trying to gain his attention. For a man in his position, mistresses weren’t at all uncommon. Most of the married men who ran in his underworld circles had wives and mistresses and girlfriends and one-night stands. It was almost expected that he would find a woman to keep on the side now that his wife had given him a son.

He ignored the flirtatious glances and come-ons when he was at the restaurant or conducting business around town, but it wasn’t so easy for Vivian. She pretended not to see them. She pretended not to care—but he knew she did. He could only imagine how hard it was for her not to demand that he fire certain waitresses or to hold her tongue and not make a scene. She always presented herself as the perfect wife in public, always classy, serene, kind and in control. She didn’t complain about the female attention when they were alone either.

She trusts me to be faithful to her. I’ll gnaw off my own fucking hands before I touch another woman and break her trust or her heart.

And now here she was, heavy with his child, uncomfortable and hot with a constantly aching back and heartburn that kept her up all night, and all she wanted was to look pretty for their first anniversary and none of her damn shoes would fit.

“We don’t need fancy shoes for where we’re going,” he assured her. “In fact, we don’t need fancy clothes either.”

“But you’re in a suit,” she protested.

Cupping her face, he smiled down at her. “Vee, I’m
always
in a suit.”

“Sometimes I like you better in jeans,” she admitted.

“Then I’ll change into jeans.”

“Those?” She pointed to a pair hanging on his side of the oversized walk-in closet. Sheepishly, she added, “They make your ass look fantastic.”

He laughed. “Lady’s choice it is.” Gesturing to the small upholstered chair in the corner of the dressing area, he ordered, “Sit and wait for me to change. I’ll help you dress when I’m done.”

She didn’t argue with him. In the early days of her pregnancy, she had protested every single time he had pulled the overprotective husband card, but these days she happily complied. It took a little maneuvering for her to get situated in the chair. She shifted twice before finally finding a comfortable position.

Stretching out her legs, she curled one arm low around the swell of her belly and patted the top of her round stomach with the other. She smiled suddenly and reached for his hand. “Here. Feel.”

Nikolai stepped away from the rack of jeans and let her drag his hand into place on her firm belly. Even after all these weeks of being able to feel Lev kicking, he still reacted with wonder when he felt those powerful taps against his palm and fingertips. When she grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks flushed with excitement and happiness, Nikolai thought his heart might burst in his chest.

Marshaling his self-control, he bent down and kissed the spot their son had been kicking. “Be nice to your mother. Stop kicking her in the ribs.”

She laughed and leaned back against the chair. Wincing, she shifted again. “Dr. Vargas wasn’t joking when she said this kid is locked and loaded. I know this is going to sound horrible, and please don’t think I’m a terrible person or that I’m not excited about the baby—because I am—but I am so
over
being pregnant.”

Sweeping his fingers down her cheek, he said, “I don’t think you’re terrible for wanting to be done with this part of it. Nine months is a long time to wait to meet our son.” Thinking of what awaited her, he asked, “Are you still sure you want to do this without drugs?”

“I want to try. We’ll be in the hospital, and if I change my mind, it will be easy enough to have an epidural started.” As if reading his mind, she grasped his hand, turned her face and kissed his palm. “Stop worrying. I’ve got this.”

It was impossible for him to stop worrying, but he wasn’t going to burden her with that. Keeping on his shirt but tossing aside his jacket and tie, he quickly switched into jeans and his favorite leather boots. He crossed over to Vee’s side of the closet and picked out the comfortable black leggings he knew she liked the most and a simple snowy white sweater with pale pink hearts. Remembering the way she had complained about fabric rubbing on her sensitive stomach, he grabbed one of the white camisoles she liked to wear under her clothes.

When he opened her top drawer to find undergarments, she gestured to the island. “I bought something special for tonight. I might be dressing down for our first anniversary, but I’m still going to rock sexy panties.”

“I’m not going to argue with that.” He happily picked up the lacy panties and matching bra and carried them back to her. With her clothes draped over both shoulders, he held out his hands and helped her stand. When he was sure she wouldn’t faint from the change in blood pressure, he tugged on the sash holding her robe closed and shoved it off her shoulders.

For a long moment, he simply stared at her luscious body, taking in her curves and softness. Not content to only look at her, he put his hands on her skin and glided them down the line of her neck to cup her breast and hip. Suddenly his plans for their night no longer held the same appeal. Leaning down, he skimmed his lips over her collarbone and the swell of her breast. “I think I might prefer to stay in and have you for dinner.”

“As tempting as that is, I’m starving.” She ran her fingers through his hair and scratched at his scalp in the way he enjoyed. “Take me out and feed me. Then you can bring me home and do whatever you want to me.”

He groaned at the very idea of having her surrender completely. With the baby due any day, he was painfully aware that each sexual encounter they shared might be their last for weeks. Capturing her mouth in a hard, passionate kiss, he gave her bottom a playful swat before breaking away and dropping to his knees. He peppered ticklish kisses across her belly and at each hip before stroking her calf and silently coaxing her to lift her leg. He slowly helped her into her panties and bra and then into the rest of her clothing.

Having watched her put in and remove hot rollers for months, he had a pretty good idea of how they worked. He carefully removed each clip and pulled the each roller from her dark, shiny locks. By the time he was finished, the small island in the closet was littered with clips and curlers.

“Holly better watch out,” Vivian said, “because I might start seeing you for my blowouts and trims.”

Taking her teasing in stride, he joked, “Maybe this gift for hairstyling is genetic.”

“I’d like to see you say that to Maksim’s face.”

He chortled. “Not in this lifetime.” Then, thinking of the picture in the nursery, he asked, “Did he send the photo of my mother?”

She pouted. “You went into the nursery without me.”

“I’m sorry. Was it a surprise?”

“Well….sort of.”

“Tell you what. I’ll let you take me back in there, and I’ll pretend to be shocked.”

She rolled those pretty blue eyes. “No. But—did you like it? The gallery wall of photos, I mean?”

“They’re perfect.” Wondering why she was hesitating, he prompted her with a simple utterance of her name. “Vee.”

“Yes,” she said finally. “Maksim did send that photo.”

“And?”

“It was in the bottom of the box in an envelope with my name on it. He wrote me a note.”

“Maksim? Wrote
you
a note?” He couldn’t believe it. The boss
never
put anything in writing. Ever. It was one of his rules.

“It was short. Just a single line.” She hesitated. “You’ll know when he’s ready.” She hesitated again. “He signed it
Dedushka.

“He did not!”

She nodded. “He did.”

What game was Maksim playing? Signing a note like that?
Grandpa?
The idea of the old man embracing his new grandfatherly role troubled him.
What does he want with my son? What does he want with me?

“The rest of the photos are in my studio downstairs. I have them locked in a drawer. I wanted to talk to you before I had them framed for your office and the wall in the foyer.” She toyed with a button on the front of his shirt. “There are some really cute snapshots of you as a baby with your mom.”

“What? Really?” A painful tightness squeezed his heart. He wasn’t sure if it was longing or sadness that gripped him.

“Yes. You were so adorable, Kolya. You had the chubbiest little face.” She combed her fingers through his hair. “You were so blond. Like platinum blond.” Her eyes glimmered with excitement. “Do you think Lev will be blond like you or dark-haired like me?”

“He’ll have dark hair and blue eyes.” How he knew that Nikolai couldn’t say, but he was certain of it.

“The photos are all labeled on the back. It’s a woman’s handwriting.” Reluctantly, she said, “I think your mother sent them to Maksim, and I think he held onto them even after…” She seemed unable to mention his mother’s death. “When you look at them, you’ll understand what I mean.”

“I’ll look at them tomorrow.” He didn’t think he could handle it tonight.

“I should have told you.” She tilted her head and tried to read his face. “I should have showed you when I found them.”

“It’s fine, Vee. I’ve had so much going on the last week that I’m actually glad you didn’t mention them. I would have been too distracted.”

Placing her hand against his neck, she caressed him lovingly. “How is work?”

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