by Roxie Rivera
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?”
He didn’t like it when she asked about that side of his life, but he never lied to her anymore. After nearly losing her over the summer, he would never be that stupid again. “Things are tense between certain factions. It will work itself out, but it couldn’t be happening at a worse time.” He touched her belly. “I wish I could take paternity leave like a normal man, but if I step away for too long…”
“Kolya, I understand. I knew what I was getting into when I married you. After everything we’ve been through? We’ll figure out a way to make parenthood work. But when you’re here with us? When you’re home? Be here. Give us your full focus. That’s all we need. The amount of time doesn’t matter.” She burrowed into him and rose on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “We love you, Kolya.”
Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to rejoice in he
r love. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve this at all—but I’ll fight to the death before I give this up.
She stepped out of his embrace. Standing back, he watched with an amused smile as she tipped her head over and shook out the loose curls. He loved the sexy, carefree look and couldn’t wait to grab onto a handful later while she rode him hard and fast.
After checking her reflection in the bathroom mirror and dabbing on a little lipstick, she turned toward him and put her hands on her hips. “This still doesn’t solve the issue of shoes.”
“What did you wear today while you were out running errands with Ten and Boychenko?”
“My gardening clogs.”
“The orange ones?”
She nodded. “Hot, right?”
He laughed. “So sexy.”
“Well it’s gardening clogs or I can see if Ten left some of his giant shoes in the mud room.”
“The clogs are fine.”
She suspiciously narrowed her eyes. “Where exactly are you taking me?”
Snatching her hand, he planted a quick kiss on her mouth and tugged her after him. “It’s a surprise.”
“Hmm,” she murmured skeptically as he pulled her through their bedroom and into the hall. “The last time you took me out for a surprise I ended up pregnant and with a tattoo on the back of my neck.”
He paused at the top of the stairs and turned around to smile at her. “I really set the bar high for surprises, huh?”
She giggled and then made a measuring gesture with her thumb and forefinger. “Maybe we could set the bar a smidge lower tonight?”
“Done.” He gave her hand another tug. “Come on.”
After grabbing her coat and shoes, they left the house. The drive to their secret destination took a little longer than he had expected because of the weather and an accident. He didn’t mind. Sitting in traffic gave him a chance to text Boychenko and to simply enjoy holding her hand while they idled and waited for the cars in front of them to inch forward.
“It’s good to see Artyom behind the wheel again,” she said as she traced her thumb over one of the tattoos on his hand. The street captain and his crew were in the SUV in front of them. “I’m glad he’s back with us.”
“He seems recovered physically, but I worry about him. Getting shot like that? Seeing Erin kidnapped and his crew killed? Bleeding out on the floor? That changes a man.”
Nikolai still carried the guilt of what had happened that awful night in October. Artyom had nearly been killed trying to protect Erin. His failure to keep his family and friends safe that night still haunted him. It had been a painful lesson to learn, but it wasn’t a mistake he would make again.
That night, during his long drive to Mexico to deal with Lorenzo, he had realized that the people around him were safer when he was the brutal, ruthless gangster who cut first and asked questions later. Vee had softened him in so many good ways, but sometimes a man had to be hard. She could never know of the things he would do to keep her and their family safe. Those were secrets and burdens he would carry to his death.
“We should do something nice for him,” she said, completely and wonderfully oblivious to the dark turn his thoughts had taken. “We should send him on a vacation some place warm.”
It was a sweet thought but…
“He hates the beach.”
“Oh.”
Not wanting her to feel as if she had been shot down, he suggested, “We could send him to San Francisco or Seattle. He’s always talking about visiting the West Coast. He likes big cities.”
“I’ll talk to him about it after the baby comes,” she decided. “If you talk to him, he’ll say no, but if I tell him I want to send him away on vacation, he won’t be able to turn me down.”
Nikolai’s lips twitched with amusement. She had learned very quickly that the men who were part of her personal guard were simply incapable of hurting her feelings. Boychenko would walk barefoot across broken glass for her, and Artyom would do anything to keep her from crying or being upset. “Yes, I think it’s best if you bring it up.”
Still holding her hand, he navigated the dark streets to the Galleria district and found a parking space in the empty lot across from the building Alexei owned. The area was under development still, but it would be open soon enough. For now, the parking lot was a ghost town.
Clearly confused, Vivian glanced around the upscale retail center. “Is there a new restaurant you want to try?”
“We’re having something delivered.” He leaned across the center console of the Continental and opened the glove box. When he withdrew the black sleeping mask, she looked at him in surprise. “Trust me.”
“I do.” She unlatched her seatbelt and moved her head closer to him so he could put on the mask. “Always.”
Very gently, he slipped the mask into place and kissed her cheek. Of all the people who had trusted him, he cherished her the most. “Wait here, solnyshka.”
“Okay.”
He got out of the car and took the umbrella from Artyom who stood ready to guard them. The city had been quiet the last few weeks, but it would never truly be safe for Vivian or their son to walk alone on the streets, especially not at night. There were too many power hungry men and too many low-level street thugs with grudges to ever let their collective guard down in public.
“Boy set everything up,” Artyom informed him. “I called him right before we got here. He’ll wait for you two to enter and then hit the lights before he sneaks out the back. He’ll be watching the rear exit with Danny.”
“Good.” Walking around to Vivian’s door, he opened the umbrella to shield her from the hazy drizzle and reached in to help her out of the car. With a hand on the small of her back, he guided her across the parking lot and onto the wide sidewalk. He stopped in front of the double doors adorned with Bianca’s red bow. Safe under the awning, he handed the umbrella to Artyom who smiled with anticipation of Vee’s reaction.
Stepping behind his wife, he put his hands on her shoulders. He lowered his face and whispered against the shell of her ear, “I had a hard time wrapping this one, but I hope you like it.”
“Kolya…” Slight censure filled her voice. “You’ve already given me so much this year. You gave me presents on the 25th and on the 6th! I didn’t need anything else for our anniversary.”
“I’m your husband. It’s my prerogative to spoil you.” He kissed her cheek. “And this is different.”
Very carefully, he tugged free the mask and pocketed it. He heard her sharp intake of breath when she spotted the bow on the front doors. “I don’t understand…”
Stepping beside her, he withdrew a key from his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “Open the doors.”
She glanced nervously in his direction before stepping up to the tall, wide mahogany doors he had commissioned. She touched the iron filigree on the front before pulling on the bright red ribbon and handing it to him. When she unlocked and pushed them open, he trailed her into the dark space. On cue, Boychenko flipped the lights—and Vivian gasped.
“Oh my—! What did you do?” She whirled on him in shock and disbelief. “Is this…? Is it mine?”
Loving her reaction to his biggest surprise yet, he cupped her face, the ribbon still dangling from his fingers, and nodded. “This gallery is yours.”
She hopped up and kissed him hard, wrapping her arms around his neck and damn near squeezing the air right out of him. Grinning like a little girl on Christmas morning, she spun away from him and walked in slow circles as she took in the renovated gallery space with its gleaming hardwood floors, smoky gray walls and professional lighting. “What in the world possessed you to do this for me?”
“When we were in London at your show, I realized that you needed your own space to show your paintings. You need a place that you control and that only showcases your works or other artists you handpick.”
“Kolya, this is too much.” Seemingly in awe of her new gallery, she shook her head. “This is so hig
h-end.”
“You’re high-end.” He grasped her hand and interlaced their fingers. “You are an amazing painter. You’re going to be famous. You need a gallery that supports you and your growing career.”
Before she could protest the expense or the challenges of staffing the place, he said, “Let me show you the rest of it.”
Her eyes widened. “The rest of it? How big is this place?”
“Big enough,” he answered cryptically and led her off the main show floor. He pointed out the reception and cashier desk before taking her into the three offices in the rear. “I figured you would need a manager and probably an assistant. You’ll also need someone to work up front and maybe someone to handle the online side of the business.” He waved dismissively. “But we can work out the details later.”
“What’s back there?” She pointed to a set of double doors at the end of the short hallway.
“Back here,” he guided her into the wide open space, “is a place for you to paint and work. I thought there might be days when you need to be here instead of at the house studio. I had them bring over all of your furniture and shelves and supplies from the warehouse.”
He didn’t bring up the fact that they had closed down her old warehouse studio after the attack on her life in October. She couldn’t face going back there, and he didn’t blame her. “I thought you would be able to do a backdrop over here for photographing your paintings. You can frame over there and package and ship things here.” He gestured to the different stations. “And that’s for Lev.”
She smiled sweetly at the corner space he had outfitted for their son to play and sleep while his mother worked. There was a small playpen and a padded and very colorful floor covering plus toy bins and a comfortable chair for her to nurse. She had tears in her eyes when she hugged him again. “It’s perfect, Kolya.”
Burying his face in the curve of her neck, he inhaled the wonderful scent of her hair. “I’m glad you like it.”
