The Bodyguard's Baby (Russian Alpha Erotic Romance Book 3)

by Kendall Duke

  “That wasn’t so rough,” I said, smiling.

  “You scare me when you stand on bed,” he said softly, and the genuine concern on his face made me feel slightly ashamed.

  “You know I was perfectly safe,” I said. “I didn’t mean to actually frighten you, Ivan, but…” At this point, I picked up my foot and rattled the shackle on my ankle. It was difficult, considering my pants were still looped through the chain. “Seriously?”

  “I keep those for emergency only,” he said, his brow arching in that way I love. “This emergency.”

  “The fact that you refused to make love to me was an emergency,” I said, raising my own eyebrow back at him. He bit his lip.

  “I no want to hurt baby,” he said softly, and it was impossible to be irritated with him. Ivan was so sincere, his hands so gentle as they ran lovingly over my hips and ass, then settled on my stomach. “I no like hurt you either, Julie. I know I do this, I do not mean to but then…” He gazed into my eyes. “I am crazy for you. You know this expression? You make me crazy.”

  “Those are two different things,” I said, laughing.

  “You do both these things,” he said, unconcerned. “They are same to me.”

  “You cannot seriously shackle me to our bed and be surprised when I act out,” I told him, and I knew he understood the expression by the tiny lift at the corner of his mouth. “You can’t! No sane person could. This is an invitation to behave badly—which you love, by the way. You love it when I’m bad.”

  “Nyet,” he protested, but I just laughed.

  “Da, Vanya. You do.” My laughter faded as I looked down at him, remembering my thoughts just before we collided with one another. “Ivan… Do you really think I could cheat on you?”

  “Cheat?” He looked thoughtful. “Like boy-friend, like high-school?”

  “Kind of,” I said, watching him. I settled on his body, feeling his appreciative glances at my rounder figure. “I said I would go get the first—”

  “Please, Julie, do not say this again.” He looked like he was in physical pain. I reached down and stroked his cheek until he opened his eyes again.

  “I would never, ever, ever do that to you,” I said. “That’s not what I meant, but I let you think it so you would… Do what you did.”

  “Julie, that is very cruel,” he said softly, his eyes round and dark. I gulped.

  “I’m sorry. I was so frustrated—I took advantage. It wasn’t even in my thoughts, but I let you believe it. I’m sorry.”

  He was quiet for a long moment, watching me. “You say you would never do this?”

  “I would never cheat on you.”

  “This expression—is like gambling?”

  “No,” I said, understanding his confusion from before. In the circles he moved in, chances were good no one ever got cheated on, except at blackjack tables. “I would never be unfaithful to you, Vanya.”

  His pupils widened. “You… You are faithful to me?”

  “I told you,” I said, running my hands over his magnificent chest. I unbuttoned his shirt so I could touch his skin. “I love only you. I’m yours.”

  “Is easy to believe in the moment you say this,” he said softly, remembering, I’m sure, the first moment when I had. It was very heated, and I wasn’t really even thinking in complete sentences at the time. “I know my feelings for you—I will never leave you, Julie. I will be with you always, as long as you will be with me, and even if you…” He swallowed. I knew, somehow, that he was thinking about his line of work. “Even if you decide you like better life, for you and baby, I will always do what is best—I will take care of you and baby. Even if I must do it from afar.”

  “I never want to be away from you,” I told him again, holding his gaze with my own.

  “Julie…” He looked very sad, all of a sudden. “You say this now. I not hold you to this.”

  “Ivan, listen to me: I want to be with you. Only you. Forever.”

  “The baby make this real to me, Julie,” he said softly. “You cannot say this. There will be a time… You take baby, you go somewhere else, away from me—”

  “No. No, you listen to me,” I said, and the force in my voice registered with him. “I waited and waited for someone to love me. I wanted someone to make me feel like I was special. I was trapped in a prison—just like you said. And you came to me. Anyone could have gotten the job of being here with me—tons of men with jobs like yours, anyone could have done it. But fate put you here,” I said, tears in my eyes. “Fate gave you to me. I will never be with anyone else. I will never love anyone the way I love you.”

  He was quiet for a very long time, his strong hands cradling my face as he thought. Finally Ivan sat up, pulling me belly to belly and chest to chest with him. “Milaya, will you marry me?”

  I wept then; I wept as he held me, stroking my hair and murmuring in my ear. He told me that he’d loved since the first time he saw me, that he knew I was too special and good for him but he loved me anyway. He wanted to give me the best life, the very best, and he didn’t think it could happen with him—but he understood, now, that we didn’t have a choice. “It almost impossible to believe you could love me like I love you,” he whispered in to my ear. “I would do anything for you—I would die for you, I would kill for you, I will live for you. And if you say you want to be with me… I want you to be my wife, Julie. I want you to be my wife when you have my baby.”

  It was the sweetest, most impossibly perfect moment in my entire life. I felt connected to him, as if our hearts had slowly been memorizing each other and were beating in time, creating a perfect rhythm that existed only between he and I. I was so happy I felt like my whole body was glowing, as if I would take flight if I didn’t hold him tightly enough, and he held me the same way. We pressed against one another, feeling each other’s souls, finding the future.

  And then the most frightening moment of my entire life happened.

  It was so sudden, so quick, that I didn’t understand where my body was or how it got there.

  One minute, I was curled against Ivan in our bed, ecstatically happy, and the next I was in a ball by the headboard, his body blocking my view. Ivan hovered protectively over me, facing toward the bottom of the bed, and then he launched himself in the air. I saw him tackle someone, and then there was just the sound of heavy breathing, three low grunts, and silence. Ivan popped up and straightened his shirt. He tossed me the phone and told me to call—“the police?” I stammered, I was so shocked and afraid.

  “Nyet, milaya, call Alexei.” He grabbed the laptop, to my surprise, and scanned the screen; he was checking his surveillance cameras. Ivan nodded to me one time and pointed to the closet. “Wait for me in there. Do not be afraid, lyubimaya. I tell you,” he said softly, “I am very good at my job.”

  I didn’t look at the huddled mass of hands and ripped fabric at the foot of the bed. I scurried into the closet and dialed Alexei, trying not to hyperventilate as I told him what happened. “Five minutes,” Alexei said, his voice as expressionless as Ivan’s, and then he hung up.

  Ivan was back before I could count to ten. There was blood on the cuff of his shirt, and a scratch under one eye that hadn’t been there before. He kissed me on my forehead and drew me out, holding me close; I was shaking. I worried I would throw up, and not from the morning sickness. “Stress not good, Julie,” Ivan said, his voice calm and quiet. “Remember: we are safe. Ivan make you safe. And soon we leave, all safe, no worries.”

  I couldn’t stop shaking, but I did start to feel safe.

  He was so confident. He stepped over the pile of dead body at the foot of our bed—our bed!—and scooped me up, then carried to my room. He pulled an already packed suitcase out of my closet and added it to one that was already waiting in the hall; bug-out bags, Americans called them. I’d always thought it was another affectation of my father’s that just made him feel tough. Ivan helped me get dressed, tenderly brushing my hair while I fastened a thick coat over my middle an
d found gloves. He sat me on the bed and put my shoes on, lacing my sneakers so they wouldn’t be too tight and straightening my socks, making sure I was warm enough. He hadn’t bothered pulling a coat out of his own closet, and when he went downstairs he didn’t take me in to the garage. Instead, we waited in the hallway until headlights pulled into the driveway, and rushed out and slid in the backseat. Alexei was behind the wheel. Three guys arrived in a Chevy Tahoe that pulled up to the curb. They were all wearing black tactical gear, and none of them spoke English, instead giving brief reports to Ivan and Alexei before disappearing into the house the way we came.

  Alexei immediately left, pulling out of the driveway and on to the road before they came back. My head whirled. I couldn’t believe anything that had just happened. And were we really leaving my house? Just like that?

  When Ivan turned around, his face was carefully calm. “Julie, do we need go hospital? Are you alright?”

  “I’m alright,” I said, a little too quickly. His eyes narrowed. “I really think I am,” I promised. “We can make an appointment with Dr. Landau tomorrow…” Could we? Where were we going?

  “Good idea,” he said, nodding. “I call her now.”

  I felt a little relief knowing that we weren’t leaving the state, and settled back in my seat. Before I knew it, I was drifting off.

  It had been an eventful evening.

  ~~~

  Ivan carried me into our hotel room. It was the most opulent place I had ever been in my entire life. It was so extreme I felt completely out of place. Everything was gilded, marble, titanium, crystal, and steel. He watched me turn in a circle, staring at the sitting room around me, and waited. “Ivan… I don’t belong here,” I said finally, my eyes coming to rest on him. “This is… This is crazy. This is a place for billionaires.”

  “Julie…” Ivan looked uncomfortable for a moment, then walked briskly over to me and pulled my palms to his chest. His shirt was still unbuttoned, and now I noticed a blood stain on his right side, a small one, as if he’d leaned against a little spot of blood. He looked down at me with apprehension. “Julie, your father is very, very wealthy man. You know this?”

  “I suppose so,” I said, and he nodded, encouraging me. “But we lived a pretty normal life—”

  “Your father keep you in pen like animal,” Ivan said, some of his usual flare returning. “You live normal life. You are cover. Your father,” Ivan said, standing back and gesturing around himself, pointing to the incredible view, the gilt-framed mirrors, the velvet-slippered chaise. “Your father live like this.”

  “No,” I said, frowning at him.

  “Da, Julie,” Ivan said, his brow lowering. “I do not want to tell you this, but is true.” His gaze softened, a glimmer of hope and fear flashing by. “Julie… This is how I live.”

  “No,” I said again, feeling foolish. I stared around me, then shook my head. “No, Vanya. No.”

  “Da, my Julie,” Ivan said softly, not letting go of my hand. “I like to live with you, in real house, eat real food made by beautiful woman. I like this very much. But if Julie never happen to me, I live like I have since young man. I live like this.”

  “This is a hotel, Ivan,” I pointed out, but he just nodded.

  “I live this suite, here, and two more—one in New York, one in London. In Russia I live in compound with Alexei mother and sister, Sergei, when he in country.” Ivan watched me, trying to gauge my reaction. “I pick this when I am seventeen,” he said, looking around as if trying to see it like I would. He rolled his eyes. “I think very fancy. Now it seem…Too much, da?”

  “Too much?” I ogled the room around me, then stared at him. “Ya think?”

  “This place is very fancy. Maybe too fancy,” he conceded, blushing ever so slightly.

  “This place is ridiculous,” I said, but he just shrugged and pulled me over to the couch, then settled me in his lap.

  “I very young. I think I impress pretty American women like you.”

  “Well, I’m impressed.”

  “You are teasing me,” Ivan said, and sighed as if this were particularly hurtful. I poked his side, and he chuckled, the façade folding immediately.

  “Ivan,” I said after a minute, “is this really… Are you really…”

  “I am not billionaire—yet,” Ivan said carefully. “Family is very wealthy. We have some deals, if we lucky, maybe five years I be billionaire. Right now I only millionaire.”

  “What the…” My jaw dropped open.

  “I think you must know this, Julie,” he said, biting his lip. It made me want to kiss him. “I am embarrassed you discover this now.”

  “I’m the one who should be embarrassed,” I said, suddenly realizing it was true. “You must—you must have maids, and have sex with super-models—” I sprang out of his lap, my insecurities completely overwhelming me. Ivan grabbed my hands and pulled me down next to him, then cradled my face with one hand, forcing me to look up at him.

  “I never love anything ever again. I am only for you,” Ivan said slowly. “When you pregnant and I am afraid to make love to you, I cannot even touch myself. When you cry, I feel my heart break. When you laugh, I am happy.” He kissed me, sweetly, deeply. “You belong where I am, always.” Ivan leaned back to look at me and squeezed my hands.

  I tried to think about his life before we met, and failed; I didn’t understand anything that was happening, any of the opulence surrounding me.

  But I trusted him.

  I believed him when he said he loved me; I felt it, that connection between us, burning like a bright flame. Nothing could sever it. “Okay, Vanya,” I whispered, and kissed him back.

  I was just about to suggest he take a shower when the events that brought us here came to mind. “Da?” Ivan always knew when I was thinking about something.

  “Ivan, who was that? In my house, I mean?” I didn’t want to get more specific, didn’t want to remember the details—what little I could. Ivan had shielded me from the violence and from the view, for the most part. I shook off the memory.

  “I am not sure yet, milaya,” Ivan said, his voice thoughtful. “There are two people Alexei suggest, and I think he is right.” He swallowed, then met my eyes. “I tell you about Irina’s ex-husband, yes?”

  “Yes,” I said, and he nodded.

  “Your father, he defect to his organization. Is probably not a coincidence.”

  “My father… You mean my father sent those guys to—”

  “To collect asset,” Ivan said, letting me read between the lines but not saying the words out loud; they were too upsetting. “Or, Irina ex-husband decide to hurt me, take something I love, although I think more likely they are working together.” He sighed. “Is not important.”

  “What do you mean, it’s not important?” The panic was gnawing at my mind, making me feel like I couldn’t breathe. Ivan saw this and once again drew his face towards mine, forcing me to look at his calm expression and listen to his slow words, forcing me to slow down too.

  “Because, I tell you. I am very good at my job.” I blinked. “I will find out who this is, and then I do my job, milaya. Alexei, too, is very good at his job. We are best. Maybe two weeks, maybe three, is no problem,” he said, as if he were describing a contracting job to a client working with a deadline. “And then I marry woman I love more than anything, woman who means world to me, woman carrying my baby.” His point was unmistakable. “I love you. You are mine, Julie. No one can hurt you now.”

  I slept soundly that night, in satin and silk and velvet. I slept the whole night, and never had one bad dream.

  I believed him.

  Ivan was very good at his job.

  Be sure to look for the conclusion to this story, The Bodyguard’s Bride, coming in May of 2019!

  Kendall Duke’s The Bodyguard

  The Bodyguard and the Virgin

  The Bodyguard and the Girl Next Door

  The Bodyguard’s Baby

  The Bodyguard’s Bride
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