by Marian Tee
“Yeah right.” But her voice shook horribly, and she squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment.
“I missed you, pchelka.”
She pretended not to hear it, needed to act like the words didn’t exist so she wouldn’t end up crying. “You still haven’t explained how you found me.” Her voice came out thin but high-pitched, but at least she was still managing to hold her tears back. “Was it because of magic again?”
“Not quite.”
“I never did get to ask you. When you do magic, does it take the form of rubles or dollars?”
“Neither. I use checks.” He looked at her, noting how pale and thin she looked, and his remorse grew. “But in today’s case, I didn’t find you by magic.”
“You didn’t?”
“Alyx followed you and then she told me where to find you.” This time, he could no longer bear the distance between them, and the billionaire slowly reached for her, cupping her chin as he made her lift her face to his.
Her gray eyes were filled with terror, and his heart squeezed at the sight of it.
“I’m scared,” Fredericka whispered. It hurt to say the words because they made her feel like everything she had achieved until that moment was worth nothing.
Sergei released her face and when his hand slowly pressed against her stomach, her eyes stung.
“Is it because my child is inside of you?”
A tear spilled down her cheek as Fredericka choked out, “Yes.”
“Look at me, Fredericka.” He waited for her patiently, watched her square her shoulders before once again meeting his gaze. “I’m here for you. I will always be here for you, and I’ll be there for the baby, too.”
“You can’t promise me that,” she said brokenly. Because her father had promised her mother the moon and the stars, and yet in the end all his promises had turned out empty.
“I can and I am promising you that.”
“Life doesn’t work that way,” she cried out. “You’re you, and---”
His jaw clenched. “If someone older – someone perhaps like Julian Alexeyev – was the one who has made you pregnant, are you saying that will be the only time you feel there is no need to worry? It is only because of my age that makes you think I am incapable of caring for you and our child?”
“No.” His words forced her to see the silliness in her thoughts, forced her to remember the kind of man she knew Sergei Grachyov to be. He wasn’t like her father and had never been like him.
“Trust me, pchelka.” He breathed hard. “Because I love you.”
Fredericka jerked.
“I have loved you for a very long time.”
“Don’t say that just because of the baby.” Her tone was strained. “It’s not necessary. If you’re worried about what people would say---” She shut up when he looked at her like she had gone mad.
“My mother is an infamous gold-digging snob, and my youngest brother is dating our stepsister. Do you think I’d survive this far if I cared about what other people think?”
Right, right. But if that was so, then did that mean---
Her eyes widened.
And just like he could read the question screaming in her mind, Sergei said flatly, “I wasn’t lying. You didn’t hear wrong. I love you.”
“You can’t,” Fredericka whispered.
“I do, and I know you heard me the first time I told you.”
Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
“How can you love someone like me?” she choked out. “I’m older than you. And I’m boring. And---”
“I love you,” the billionaire murmured, “and I can love only you because you’re the only woman who pays for dinner when we go on a date.”
She laughed and cried, but when she saw him reaching for his pocket and pulling out a small jewelry box, her heart stuttered, and she burst out unthinkingly, “No.”
A shuttered look fell on the billionaire’s handsome face as he said stiffly, “I haven’t even asked you anything yet.”
“And you shouldn’t.” Her mind was shouting at her for being insane enough to preemptively turn down a marriage proposal from a confirmed bachelor like Sergei, but she knew her conscience wouldn’t have let her live with any other choice. Giving the billionaire a tremulous smile, she whispered, “Not just yet. Please?”
Ah. The billionaire studied her for a long moment before saying finally, “You still don’t trust me.”
She didn’t answer.
“You think I’ll leave you the way your father left your mother.”
She still didn’t answer, but when he started to move, she stiffened, the paranoid part of her already preparing itself to face his anger or disappointment.
But instead all he did was place a tiny kiss of her nose. It was a surprisingly cute kiss, and her toes actually curled hard at the billionaire’s gesture. “It’s okay.” His voice was quiet and gentle, strong and steady.
Definitely didn’t sound like a guy who was going to run out on her, she thought, but she also knew that things could still change, especially when the truth of his impending fatherhood finally sank in.
“I just want us to be both sure---” Fredericka was aghast to hear her voice crack suddenly. Was this already the start of those rumored mood swings caused by pregnancy?
Hiding a smile when she looked at him with eyes that unconsciously begged for his help, the billionaire said soothingly, “I understand, pchelka, and I will wait for you to be ready. There’s no need to hurry when we have the rest of our lives to be together, da?”
“D-da.” Right now, she would probably say yes to whatever he said. It was strange, the way she suddenly felt weak and confused, almost like she had reverted to being a newborn baby unable to understand how the world worked.
He cupped her face, murmuring, “All you need to do is focus on one thing, and you’ll be fine.”
“A-and w-what’s that?” she asked shakily.
His mouth moved down, and he whispered against her lips, “Just remember that I love you, Fredericka Spears.”
Ah. A wobbly smile touched her lips. “Cheesy.”
“But it’s working, da?” His tone was lazily confident. “You are smiling now, and you are no longer worried about our future.”
“You’re too cocky.” But her voice was breathless, and the way his eyes gleamed told her he knew she wasn’t irritated by his so-called cockiness. Rather, it was a major turn-on, and they both knew it.
When he bent his head, she closed her eyes, and as her lips parted, his tongue slipped in. The kiss they shared was so sweetly possessive it had her toes curling, and in the back of her mind, a thought formed. A future full of kisses like this didn’t sound so bad. Actually, it didn’t sound bad at all.
When the billionaire pulled away, the first thing he saw was the clouded look in her eyes, and the sight made him want to simultaneously laugh and crush her in his arms. Such denseness, little bee, Sergei thought with a mental sigh. This beautiful woman already loved him back. He just had to teach her to look past her fears to realize it.
Chapter Fifteen
The world as Fredericka knew it stopped existing the moment Sergei officially introduced her as the mother of his unborn child. The first major change was the shift in media coverage. It used to be that she appeared in headlines of dailies, and articles written about her were focused on the cases she handled. Now, she still did appear in headlines, but this included all sorts of tabloids and gossip rags, and the articles were more a collection of rumors and innuendos rather than facts and figures. They also all talked about what an older woman like her could have done to snag a gorgeous Russian billionaire like Sergei Grachyov.
“I think this is the best article about me so far,” Fredericka decided over breakfast one morning, and to prove her point, she turned the paper around so Sergei and the other Grachyovs could read the headlines.
Taking the newspaper from Fredericka’s hands, Seri Devereux read out loud, “Fredericka Spears, following
in the footsteps of her mentor Amal Clooney.” A blonde with striking good looks in her early twenties, Seri was famous all over the globe for several reasons. One was because of her work as a seiyuu or voice actor, second was because she was the one girl that all the Grachyov men openly doted on and would readily kill for, and third was because she happened to be dating her stepbrother, Vassi Grachyov.
The second major change in her life, Fredericka mused, and something she was still reeling from if she had to be honest. Pregnancy seemed to have made her unable to say ‘no’ to Sergei, and before she knew it, the Russian billionaire had convinced her to move back to California and live with him and the rest of the Grachyovs in their sprawling mansion.
Since her mother’s death, the only people she had allowed herself to form attachments to were Anneke and Alyx and her family. When she had felt her life was too empty, she had only toyed with the idea of being someone’s girlfriend, and now she knew she had chosen the professor because while he was perfect on paper and he could make her heart skip a beat, he didn’t threaten her. Her world wouldn’t collapse if he left her or said no.
But Sergei was different. The Russian billionaire hadn’t just gotten under her skin but had found a way to permanently glue himself to a part of her heart. Even worse, Fredericka thought with just a tiny amount of unease, the other members of his family had somehow managed to make themselves just as important to her as well.
What was it with these Grachyovs that they made you want them to stay in your life forever?
“Is it true, Freddie?” she heard Seri ask.
Shaking herself out of her reverie, she asked, “What’s true?”
“That Amal’s your mentor?”
“Nope,” Fredericka admitted cheerfully, “but Sergei brought me once to an event, and George Clooney and Amal were there, and I sort of did a photo-bombing thing---”
“Sort of?” Sergei coughed politely. As far as he could recall, Fredericka had practically pushed her way to the front in hopes of catching Amal Clooney’s attention.
Misha, the middle Grachyov brother, took the article from his sister’s hand and scanned the rest of it. Dark-haired and silver-eyed, Misha was the family’s genius, with two degrees under his belt – and counting – at the ripe old age of twenty-four. When he looked up, he said dryly, “I don’t think you should take this article as a compliment.”
“Why not?” Fredericka was confused.
“Because, my future sister-in-law---”
Fredericka turned red and Sergei grinned.
“It’s saying that the two of you are hooking up with famous rich guys because you want trophy husbands.”
Her jaw dropped open, but before she could respond, Sergei leaned close to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “It’s fine, pchelka.” His tone was silky smooth. “I’m fine with being a trophy husband. It means I can retire and you’ll start working for us, da?”
His siblings burst out laughing, and even the patriarch of the family, the intimidating ex-pugilist Fyodor Grachyov, was doing his best not to smile.
“No one’s going to be my trophy husband,” she protested.
But no one was listening to her. The other Grachyovs were too busy congratulating Sergei for finding the ideal wife.
Fredericka made a face, but she knew deep inside that she was just pretending to be mad. The truth was, she loved this family. If love at first sight was possible, then that was exactly how she felt the moment she had moved in with this rich, gorgeous bunch of lunatics. They had made her feel like family from day one, so much so that she couldn’t even recall what life was like before Sergei Grachyov and his family entered the picture.
Beside her, Sergei leaned close to her again, and she tried not to sniff appreciatively when she caught a whiff of his cologne. He had always smelled so good, but these days she just couldn’t get enough of his scent.
“Eat the rest of your food, pchelka,” he urged gently.
“But I already feel full.”
“You have to eat for yourself and for our baby, you know that, right?” Sergei reached for her spoon, asking, “How about I feed you---”
What? When she saw that the billionaire was indeed serious, she hastily grabbed the spoon from his hold, muttering, “I can feed myself, thanks.”
Sergei smiled. “Good girl.”
And just like that, she knew that he had only bluffed about feeding her, knowing that it would get her to eat.
Jerk, Fredericka thought without heat.
Sergei Grachyov should have been everything that she hated, but instead he was proving her every prejudice wrong.
Younger guys were supposed to be immature, but instead Sergei had taken his impending fatherhood in stride. He had issued a press release about her pregnancy, and he had his secretary pen all her doctor’s appointments and workshop dates into his calendar. He also seemed to know more about the ins and outs of pregnancy than she did, and when Fredericka had asked him about it, he had told her without an ounce of embarrassment that he had already read six manuals on the subject.
He was perfect husband material in other words, and it was getting harder and harder for her to remember why she had to turn his proposal down.
When everyone was finished with breakfast, the Grachyovs started to stand and Fredericka cursed in her mind. Shit. She had been so busy daydreaming she had forgotten about this. She hastily came to her feet, hoping to escape, but it was too late.
Vassi, the youngest Grachyov brother and the family’s prankster, reached for her first. He might look like a silver-haired angel at first glance, but he was really the devil in disguise and he gave her a crushing bear hug, murmuring piously, “Seri and I have to leave for work, big sister. We’ll miss you and the baby.”
“Ha!” But her face still ended up flaming, and Vassi released her with a laugh.
Seri reached her next and the younger girl placed a kiss on her cheek. “See you later, Freddie.”
The two linked hands as they walked away, both of them at ease with being a couple made infamous by the fact that they were also stepsiblings.
When she noticed Misha reaching for her, she quickly tried pulling back, but because he had really long arms, he still managed to ruffle her hair in the end. “It’s my turn to babysit today, so I’ll be checking on you later on.” Although notorious for being coldly indifferent to everything and everyone outside his family and work, Misha had made an exception in her case.
Unfortunately.
“I can take care of myself,” she muttered.
“I know that,” Misha answered patiently. “But big brother over there---” He inclined his head to Sergei, who was leaning against the breakfast counter and gazing at them with amusement as he took a sip of his coffee. “---will die if anything happens to you. The entire family, actually, will be devastated, so I need to do my part and make sure nothing happens to you while you’re on my watch.”
“I am not a kid,” Fredericka growled.
“I know that, too.” And this time, Misha slanted a pointed glance at her tiny bump, which her wraparound dress couldn’t hide.
The innuendo had her muttering, “S-shut up.” She glared at him as he walked away, but then she found herself face to face with Fyodor Grachyov. Although he was in his mid-forties, the older man looked more like a big brother to his grown-up children. Sergei was, in fact, the mirror image of his father, and looking at Fyodor, Fredericka already knew that Sergei was blessed to look beautiful for the rest of his life.
“Has the pregnancy caused you any discomfort?” Fyodor was asking.
Hurriedly pushing all envious thoughts of Sergei’s gorgeousness aside, she shook her head, mumbling, “It’s been great so far. Just a few unusual food cravings, but other than that, nothing.”
Behind them, Sergei coughed politely, but Fredericka pretended not to hear it. So ‘a few’ and ‘unusual’ were understatements, but so what? He had knocked her up, now he had to live with the consequences, and that included lookin
g for an exotic Asian shrimp paste paired with an equally exotic variety of mangoes – in the middle of night.
“That’s good to hear. If you need any of us, do not hesitate to call, okay?”
She nodded.
He raised a brow.
Aaaaargh. He really was like the rest of them. Or rather, all of his children took after him. She said obediently, “Da, Papa.”
Fyodor grinned. “It gets easier, da?”
“Nyet,” she returned honestly, but her answer only made the older man laugh.
And then it was just her and Sergei, and she told him accusingly, “See what you’ve done? It’s like this every morning!”
But the billionaire only smiled, saying mildly, “All I told them was to make you feel like you’re part of the family because you’ve spent most of your life alone.”
“What you really mean is you’re all sadistic by nature, and you all enjoy torturing me by smothering me with hugs and kisses.”
“That, too,” he agreed.
She watched him place his cup down on the counter, and when he turned to face her again, the gleam in his dark gaze made her gasp. “No!” But her breathless tone gave her away, and when he took a step towards her, Fredericka’s knees buckled as a sweet, thrilling kind of dread filled her.
“N-no, Sergei.”
“You mean yes,” he mocked, “don’t you?”
This time she didn’t bother to answer and simply whirled away and ran out of the Grachyovs’ informal dining room. Unfortunately, she only made it as far as the stairs by the time he caught her, and Fredericka let out a little shriek when he swept her up in his arms from behind.
His slumberous dark gaze met hers, and her heart started to hammer. “Pick a place, pchelka.”
The husky, accented words made her shudder, but she tried to hang on to her common sense, saying weakly, “You might be late for work.”
He shrugged her concern off, saying, “This is more important.”
“But---”
“Choose, little bee, or I’ll choose for you.”
And since she knew he would choose a place that was particularly risqué or even public, she said right away, “Our bedroom please.” She hugged him tightly afterwards, but it was only a pretext so she could hide her flaming face in the crook of his neck.
